“Directly after copulation, the devil’s laughter is heard” – Arthur Schopenhauer.
It is after orgasm that you realize that all your efforts and activities related to sex are really biologically driven. That there wasn’t much to it than satiating our primal drives. That we are no different than cocks, dogs and donkeys. Of course, I’m going out on a limb here.
The thing is, the tension and anticipation leading up to sexual activity is really the opposite experience you get after orgasm. The underwhelming plateau after the act is probably the reason why men start snoring soon after coitus. But as if the gods wanted to make fun of us, we desire the same experience, sooner rather than later. We jump through hoops hoping that the next tryst will be more fulfilling. It seldom does. Absurd.
Let’s look at the story of Sisyphus from Greek mythology. Sisyphus made the gods angry because he tricked them. The gods gave him the punishment of rolling a heavy rock up a mountain. So, he struggles to push the rock up, but just when he reaches the peak, the rock comes tumbling downhill. Sisyphus has to go down and start the process again. This happens again and gain. He is condemned to futile labor. For eternity.
Isn’t the story of Sisyphus the story of our lives? We engage in mundane tasks day in day out. We wake up, eat, work, check social media, mate, defecate, and sleep. And we repeat the same the following day, again and again. If this sounds like I’m saying that life is meaningless, trust your instincts.
The story of Sisyphus sounds tragic. Imagine Sisyphus walking down the hill to roll the heavy rock back to the top knowing very well that it will roll down again. What’s the look on his face? Sadness? Despair?
Albert Camus encourages us to imagine Sisyphus happy. Happy as he goes down the hill, looking forward to the adventure that is pushing the rock uphill. In fact, we can imagine Sisyphus taking his punishment with contempt. Smiling rebelliously as he embarks on the futile duty that has been assigned to him.
Perhaps we should take life with the defiance of the adolescent who continues to enjoy playing, despite knowing too well that he will be punished in the evening by his parents for not cleaning his room.
Perhaps life does not need to have meaning for it to be meaningful. Perhaps there is no meaning to life. Maybe we should face the struggles that characterize our life with a smirk on our face. Just like we do when we are relieving our bowels in a pit latrine.
Life is life
Fabio