Everything Is F*cked

Pandora’s Box
In Greek mythology, the world started out with only men.
17
Everyone drank a
lot and didn’t do any work. It was one big, everlasting frat party. The ancient
Greeks called this “paradise.” But if you ask me, it sounds like a special kind
of hell.
The gods, recognizing that this was a fairly boring state of affairs, decided
to  spice  up  the  situation  a  bit.  They  wanted  to  create  a  companion  for
mankind,  someone  who  would  command  the  men’s  attention,  someone  who
would introduce complication and uncertainty to the easy life of shotgunning
beer cans and playing foosball all night.
So, they decided to create the first woman.
For this project, every one of the major gods helped out. Aphrodite  gave
her  beauty.  Athena  gave  her  wisdom.  Hera  gave  her  the  ability  to  create  a
family.  Hermes  gave  her  charismatic  speech.  On  and  on,  the  gods  installed
gifts and talents and intrigues into woman like apps in a new iPhone.
The result was Pandora.
The  gods  sent  Pandora  to  earth  to  introduce  competition  and  sex  and
babies  and  arguments  about  the  toilet  seat.  But  the  gods  did  something  else,
too:  they  sent  her  with  a  box.  It  was  a  beautiful  box,  embossed  in  gold  and
covered  in  intricate  and  delicate  designs.  The  gods  told  Pandora  to  give  the
box to men, but also instructed her that it could never be opened.
Spoiler  alert:  people  suck.  Somebody  opened  Pandora’s  box—surprise,
surprise, the men would all blame the woman for it—and out flew all the evils
into the world: death, disease, hatred, envy, and Twitter. The bucolic sausage