Have you heard that we're living in a simulation? This is a theory that has gained currency recently - embraced by real-life Bond villains like Elon Musk and smartbonces like Neil deGrasse Tyson (whose name along is surely more proof) - spurred on by WTF phenomena such as Donald Trumps, Brexit and people thinking Catfish and the Bottlemen are a good band. But all of them pale into insignificance when you consider that there's an advert for a product called VIPoo you spray into a toilet before taking a shit. The VIPoo advert is, as far as I'm concerned, indisputable evidence that we're living in a simulation.
Why? I'll tell you. The chances are that our universe is a simulation - yes, like in The Matrix - because we are now capable of running complex simulations. And when our simulation becomes sufficiently lifelike the people within that simulation will start running simulations of their own. And so on. But the odds that, out of a possibly infinite number of simulations, we are the originals is pretty unlikely.
What's more something seems to be going wrong with our own universe: Trump, Brexit, Le Pen, Ed Sheeran, Leicester City... That they have all enjoyed an unlikely success suggests that someone is meddling with our universe: a naughty toddler, a mad scientist, someone listlessly playing Sim City while lazily cracking one out to their version of Youporn. Stuff like this that is totally inexplicable is a worrying indication that we're living in a computer simulation.
Still, you'd want more proof than that before running into the streets naked, gorging yourself on Krispy Kremes and fags, and trying to shag that person you suspect fancies you at work in the bogs. Brace yourself, for I have found it.
It's this VIPoo advert and I'm going to attempt to describe it. A Hollywood starlet is at a red carpet event when she realises she has to drop off the kids in a nearby water closet. Naturally she's worried about stinking out the only unisex toilet in the building, but it's OK, she can deposit her oddly doughnut-shapped stools into a bowl that has been secured by a spray that rejoices in the name VIPoo.
Hollywood's biggest director - a man who looks like he's more than capable of releasing some massive turds, whether on celluloid or not, follows her to the lavatory, wafts some toilet smells towards his face and smiles appreciatively.
Let's pause to take this in. This is a real advert - not some 90s clip show or LOL-some internet creation. It's not an April Fool's and it's not a viral advert. It's real. And that has some serious ramifications for concepts of free will, evil and the entire foundation of science, religion, ethics and knowledge itself when you think about it.
Because if VIPoo is real, the universe is not. It's the straw that broke the camel's back, the glitch in the machine, the black cat in the room. It's absurd, it's ridiculous, it's deliriously awful. Nothing like this could happen in a rational universe.
The VIPoo advert is proof that we're living in a simulation. And even though that terrifies me on a fundamental level I can take some solace from the fact.
If I'm not real then so be it. But at least the VIPoo advert isn't real either. Or Catfish and the Bottlemen.
• NB. There is another one and if anything it's even worse. Like I said, simulation.
Hey. Are you one of those sad bastards who climbs into bed, reads for a bit, has an occasional tommy-tank and then drifts off to sleep? If so I have some bad news. If you don't win at sleeping YOUR A TOTAL LOOSER.
Did you notice the two spelling mistakes? That's because anyone who cares about spelling or apostrophes is not WINNING AT WRITING. Full caps are also evidence of WINNING AT TYPING. Everyone knows the most important people type in full caps, drive everywhere as fast as possible and throw away half-eaten food.
One of the surest signs of
being a total idiot being brilliant is to WIN AT SLEEPING. This means having a fight with your duvet, or something, and flinging around some cushions.
It's very important that sleeping is a competitive sport. So much so that it will be included in the next Olympic games when Our Brave Athletes will Make Britain Proud by furiously outsleeping other countries such as the LOOSER EU.
If you don't put on an expensive grey t-shirt before you go to bed you're not working hard enough at relaxing. You should be sanctioned and immediately lose any bed benefits, such as wearing a nose clip that costs £30.
If you don't compete with other people - or at least furniture or abstracts concepts - then how can you expect to compete for a job, Audi A3 or school place at the nearby rated-outstanding primary school? If you don't undertake, tailgate or cut up on motorways how do you expect to win at sleeping?
Life is a battle and we can't show anyone, even members of our family, the slightest mercy. Not even trees, cats or broccoli. Not astronomy, empathy, gravity, digestion nor jazz. You must defeat them all. You must win at sleeping.
But most of all you must defeat those nocturnal foes who might prevent you from winning at sleeping. Such as caffeine, the car alarm down the road and the gnawing existential fear you feel whenever you stop winning at other things like eating, walking and urinating.
Don't stop winning at things, lest the fear return. The fear that it's all for nothing, that you will die a sad, unfulfilled and empty vessel and that you know that on your death bed you'll think 'Why did I spend all that time worrying about winning stuff and being a dreadful human being?".
Eat your dinner over a bin. WIN AT EATING!
Shit all over the floor in a public convenience. Yeah! Make them clear up your human waste! WIN AT SHITTING!
Park on double-yellow lines so you can be slightly closer to the shops. WIN AT PARKING!
Be a cunt in as many aspect of your life, preferably to the detriment of other people. WIN AT CUNTING!
It is not enough to win at sleeping. Others must fail at sleeping. Only then will you have an Audi A3, own parking space and four-bedroom house.