Life's Unanswerable Questions
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Since the birth of time, there have existed many questions which man has struggled to find the meaning for. Queries which Philosophers through the ages have endeavoured to search for the answer to. This is conclusive proof that there remain certain aspects of our world that mankind (or even womankind, for that matter, though it may come as a bit of a surprise) cannot begin to comprehend. We, as mere mortals have struggled to cope with the vastness of existence.
Even The Theory of everything has its flaws: it assumes people are naturally naive and liable to believe everything they read. However, nothing should be taken at face value, as those that destroyed all of their electrical appliances for fear of suffering at the hands of the Millennium Bug will testify.
They have remained unanswered. Until now. Contained on this page are the answers to some of those unanswerable questions in life, condensed into an Uncyclopedia article for ease of digestion.
How many roads must a man walk down, before you can call him a man?
Estimates range between seven and 42. Three if he only has one leg. Ah, whatever. The answer is blowing in the wind anyway.
What came first, the chicken or the egg?
Some purport that the chicken would always come first in any race, as eggs generally don't have legs. One could assume someone could roll the egg along with a long stick, but then that would be cheating.
Experts have since determined, however, that at some point the chicken must have been laid first before the egg, and thus the egg came first. Some say fish invented eggs and only later they put chickens inside.
On the other hand, scientists postulate that the chicken came first and they can be heard ending arguments over the matter with their official Chicken-Egg-Argument answer: "God just simply wouldn't sit on an egg. Get real."
Other prominent biologists argue that eggs cannot cum, since they do not have penises. Others believe that eggs accumulated male organs through Darwinian Evolution, while others argue that eggs are intelligently designed to spawn penises in a million years.
Why does your toast always land butter side down?
Serves you right for being greedy and buttering both sides.
Attach a cat to the bread prior to buttering. Since cats always land on their feet, the bread is certain to land butter side up. Remember to unattach the cat before eating, however, or things could get messy. Also beware of using dogs, rats or manatees as a substitute for a cat, as they'll just eat your bread and your butter and you may starve. There is a possibility of contracting rabies. Attaching the cat, however, makes it impossible for it to land at all (due to the rules that the toast must land butter down and the cat must land on its feet conflicting), thus designing that which scientists have thus far failed to make - the anti-gravity machine. Or it could land on either side randomly, due to the rules cancelling each other out.
Alternatively, don't butter your toast at all, for Mythbusters proved this reduces cancer, acne, and World of Warcraft addiction.
Many historians believe Adolf Hitler stole them just before committing suicide and ascending to his rightful throne in Heaven. However, seeing as the theory was invented by Dave the Wendy's guy after ingesting thrice the lethal amount of cocaine, it is doubted to be true, although the infamous writer Don Quixote has presented significantly substantial evidence to this theory.
Was it me? Maybe you? Couldn't be.....then who???
Is my glass half full or half empty?
Neither, if what happens at my local pub is anything to go by.
If my glass is half full, you'd better get me a refill. If it's half empty, you'd better not have spilled my pint.
Why don't the people on Eastenders ever watch Telly?
Some say this is because they are stuck in the past. However the actual reasons are varied: some of them can't afford a television license as is typical of the poverty stricken East-end of London. Others in the show refuse to watch the rubbish acting the BBC pass off as soaps these days. This is perhaps the only part of the show that has a semblance of reality. I mean, have you seen television nowadays?
Talk about breaking the fourth wall.
And, for some reason they never go to the toilet, sneeze or do anything 'normal'. That's because there is no toilet. The actors live on a rickety wooden set with no roof and huddle together in the winter like sheep to keep warm. Occasionally, they are allowed the luxury of being allowed to venture out of their confines to attend such events as The National Soap Awards and public hangings. Many report not having been able to distinguish between the two.
And what the Hell is so good about Eastenders anyway?
It's not Neighbours. Nuff said.
Why did that guy who walked into a bar say "ow"?
As many people know, a bar is not meant for pain but rather for dealing with pain (or just getting completely shitfaced with a few good mates).Pyrospontaeioulogists, commonly referred to as firemen, speculate that perhaps the bar in question was on fire. Linguistas, or the Spanish speaking analysts of the english language, believe that guy might have been trying to communicate distress through a mouthful of nachos, or even "owl" . However neither of these possibilities, nor any others, could possibly be true, as bars are fireproof and nobody speaks spanish. The truth is, nobody knows.
Is mommy dead?
No, she's just sleeping.
Is there a God?
No, because we're all going to die. Or should that be: yes, because we're all going to die?
There is the point of view that God exists, only in the form of the face of a popular fast food company. However this is just stupid: why would God have a moustache? You'd think his face would automatically shave itself.
The real answer is that Gods are like a London bus. You wait forever for one and a thousand come along. There are Gods of Earth and of wind, even of spontaneous combustion. The God of Gods, being the modern man that he is, allows humans the choice of which God to worship, be it St. Chav, the Almighty Big Brother or Gary Lineker. He also hoovers and irons on Wednesdays.
So, who is this 'God of Gods'?
Nobody knows, though he is reported to be working on a building site in Cheam, to be living on an island with Elvis, to in fact be Eric Clapton, or even living in the form of Rolf Harris. This would explain the number of people that tune in to Animal Hospital each week: perhaps they are hoping for a televised judgement day, live from Anrich Veterinary Hospital, Wigan.
What happens when I die?
We take your wallet, steal your identity and run a drug ring out of your house. For years, we live off your life's savings and live the high life in Southampton. Some fat guy cops off with your boyfriend/girlfriend/other half, and we sell your life story to the News of the World. Then, we tell your family you are in a Japanese prison where no visitors are allowed and there is nothing to eat but rice cakes and vinegar. Finally, we crash your car into the front of a police station and cover your granny's car in custard. Oh yeah, and we 'recycle' all your porn before sending it in a parcel to your family.
But what would you care? You'd be dead.
Why are we really here?
It's The Big One. Not the rollercoaster at Blackpool or the fat guy that sits next to you on the bus, but the most asked question by philosophers and thinkers alike since man invented the toilet. No, not why Eric Cantona insists on wearing his collar upturned like he's about to put on a tie at anFGJCGJ, VBGK BNGK y point during a match. Why the hell are we here? What is our purpose in life?
Well, the only certain thing about life is death. Yeah, the reason we live is to die. But first, it seems, one has to experience cheese rolling, the thrill of running over a dead cat and pelting John Prescott with eggs before they have truly 'lived'. Alternatively you could just stay at home watching football and eating McDonalds every day. That works just as well.
For you see, life is all about making your own choices. Whether to go to work naked or in a chicken suit, to see what happens if you put a rat in the microwave, to poke your manager in the eye with a banana or a custard pie. You live and die by your decisions (or lack thereof, in the case of whether or not to ignore that 'live wires' sign).
And it's not as if anyone is arsed about you. You are just one, insignificant speck on the landscape, a dog hair in your lasagne, another brick in the wall. That is, unless you are a talentless nobody that just so happens to be the offspring of a mega-rich businessman, in which case you can do no wrong.
The real meaning of life differs slightly according to one's social status.
- Working Class: Be Bumfight world champion by throwing bricks at everyone
- Middle Class:
Get a fricking job.Punch that Robbie Williams square in the facein the square face. And to throw bricks at people better than them.
- Upper class: Get pissed, nick a trolley from Tescos, ride down the high street at 3AM and throw bricks working class people.
So, it seems everyone has particular things in common. We all secretly want to be a tramp and have a strange compulsion to hurl bricks at everybody.
- The Answer to The Great Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything, D Cameron, 2005
- The Ultimate Question, Parmenides, March 3, 553 BC
Thus concludes this wade through the depths of human consciousness. But what's that I hear you think? This guide is not as conclusive as it might have been? What of the real solution to the Da Vinci code? Why can one never eat 100% of a Cadbury's Flake? And why does George Bush walk like he's holding two sheep under his arms? These things are sent to challenge us. After all, what is the meaning of existence without contemplation?
Oh, OK. It's
alcohol chocolate running down Market Street naked whilst consuming a large cream cake in the rush hour, pursued by ten cops on rickety old bicycles.
- The most asked question in the universe, Capitalus Unos, 1998
- Proof that everything on the Internet is true, A Einstein, 1965
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