Pitfall Matters
The Pits
You should see the pit I’m in
“Hello? Hello! Hey, is someone stomping around up there? Hey! Hey you!”
“Uh…hello? Who’s there? Is someone talking to me? I can’t see you.”
“Follow my voice. Yeah, come towards the giant hole in the ground.”
“Oh. OH.”
“Yeah, I’m down here.”
“Oh Jesus. Do you need help?”
“Me? Oh no no no. I live here.”
“Oh. Wow. In that giant hole?”
“Yep.”
“…in the middle of the highway?”
“That’s the one. My hole.”
“And you are?”
“I’m the guy living in a pit.”
“Well…that’s certainly a…nice pit you’ve got there. Quite big.”
“Yeah. Well it should be, right? I mean, it’s home, ya know?”
“It’s dark in there. I can’t see a thing.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad. You get used to it.”
“Is this thing deep?”
“Oh yes. Very.”
“How deep is it?”
“It’s like, at least ten, maybe fifteen me’s deep.”
“Oh really?”
“How would I know? It’s really dark. I can’t see a thing.”
“Oh. Hey how did a pit get here anyways? In the middle of a road. In the middle of town.”
“I dug it up!”
“No way.”
“Yes, way. I dug it. Seriously. One early Summer’s day I came to the middle of our little flat town for probably the millionth time, because I was bored, like everyone else living the horizontal life. I looked around and saw the same things I would see every day all around me: the same bored and boring people, traveling back and forth to the same little mom and pops, the same old rundown McDonalds, the same failing little local Hardware store Joe’s-”
“Wow, you must have been down there a while. Joe’s closed down a few years back. There’s a Home Depot now. Little ways down the road.”
“You don’t say? That’s probably a lot taller than Joe’s. Actually, anything else change in the last few years?”
“Uhh, not much. New high school went up. And we’re back to electing old white dudes for president.”
“Wait, were we ever not electing old white dudes for president?”
“Wow, man. Never mind that. Let’s see, what else? Oh, and there’s a Starbucks across the street.”
“I did hear about that! Actually, I could hear it going up from here. They make all those delicious drinks.”
“Yeah, actually they’re making olive oil coffees now.”
“Ugh, pass.”
“No, they’re not bad!”
“Really? Because they sound awful.”
“No, they’re good, really.”
“…”
“I mean you dump out minutes after drinking one, but they’re really g-”
“Okay so anyways back to my thing. I was in the town square and I suddenly recognized the boring flat life I call the Prime Horizontal Plane. And I noticed everyone in it was sad. Sad and bored from living life in a virtually 2D existence, freedom limited to forward-back and left-right. Take a look at the horizon, anyone I could see was just as sad. The confines of the horizontal world have you trapped. Same grind. Every day. “
“Anyways, I saw that, and I thought, ‘Phil, you can’t be a part of this. You’ve been stuck in this horizontal way of thinking for too long. Well the horizontal plane ain’t for you. If you want to change, you gotta start thinking vertically!’”
“Sure.”
“And since I couldn’t afford a plane, I thought, ‘Dig a hole, Phil. Go where no one else has gone before! Go down!”
“In the ground.”
“Yes, in the ground. So, I grabbed some tools, a shovel and a pickaxe from Joe’s. I even got a little construction work hardhat with a flashlight to look professional. Then I got to work.”
“Right here in the middle of the road!”
“Yep! I dug, and dug, and dug, and dug. Straight down. I dug all day and all night. Even in the pitch black of the new moon, I kept digging.”
“And what did you find?”
“I found out that when you dig a pit straight down, it’s really hard to climb out.”
“Uh huh.”
“So I dug every which way, and let me tell you, it seems like digging up just isn’t an option. I’ve gone left. I’ve gone. But not up. If anything, I dig further down. But I always find myself right back in the same old pit.”
“So you’ve just been living there since the George W days?”
“Yep. Oh wait, you said HW, right?”
“And you’re fine with this?”
“Oh, well, I panicked for the first year or so. Seemed like no one wanted to approach the hole in the ground with a madman screaming from it. But after a while, I got used to it. The silence. The introspection. The lack of a traditional 8–5. It’s actually pretty sweet.”
“And so you…what, you live off of rocks?”
“Ah, no. After a while of me staying quiet people started tossing food my way. It’s amazing what people will donate to your pit home when they think it’s just a regular old hole in the ground. I get all sorts of goodies — snickers wrappers, day-old bagels, the occasional half-eaten happy meal.
“That’s disgusting.”
“Actually that’s how I first discovered the Starbucks empire- pre-olive oil coffee that is. Boy, I still remember the first time I had one of their drinks. It was a cold winter morning and I was sleeping peacefully when a half-empty cup of frappuccino splashed me awake. I was only in shock for a second before I got a taste of the backwashed caramel syrup, and I was hooked for life.”
“I might vomit.”
“Away from the pit please!”
“Ugh…no. No, I’m good.”
“Anyways, after a while people would come by to toss in a piece of garbage and I’d take the opportunity to reach out to them and strike up a conversation. It’s nice. I usually shout something profound, helpful, or funny, or maybe a combination of those, and afterwards, they clap for me. If they like it, I ask them to consider buying me a Starbucks or something.
“They just drop it down? So you’re just swimming in cup sleeves and stir straws down there? ”
“Sorta. Some of my regulars have got a system. They’ll bring a rope with a basket. Take out the food, put it in the trash. Really convenient. You think I just leave my trash in this hole? That would be terrible for the planet.”
“So they’re tossing you a rope…and you’re still in the hole? Why not just use it to climb out?”
“…huh. Guess I never thought of it. Anyways, it’s a great pit, and like I said, no office job, so I’m pretty happy.”
“And you’re not, I dunno, uncomfortable? I can’t imagine there’s much room to stretch out in there.”
“Oh, you should see it. It’s great. Really opens up when you get a few dozen feet down. I’ve got room for everything. A living room. Kitchen. Bar. Bedroom. Lots of bathrooms- like, so many bathrooms.”
“And you’re happier down there? You left up here because it was boring, and hot, and the people are sad, but you’re down there doing…what? Just thinking?”
“Pretty much.”
“And that’s enough?”
“Yeah man. It’s on my terms.”
“So…that’s it. You just live in a pit?”
“Yeah man. Hey what was your name?”
“Matt.”
“Hey, Matt. I actually called you over to ask, you wanna buy me a coffee or something? I got kind of a hankering for something.”
“Well, you said it was transactional, right? Like, you say something funny or profound, or whatever, and people give you a coffee?”
“Oh, okay, I see. Sure, I can do that.”
“…”
“Uh…”
“…uh, you know what? This has been a great conversation but actually I should get going.”
“Hold on! Wait. Just gimme just a minute. It’s not like I just have these things locked and loaded.”
“Really? What else are you doing down there if not thinking about your next conversation?”
“Look man, these sayings are custom tailored, made for each individual listener. I can’t just, just, just make something up without thinking about it. I’ve got to put serious time and energy int- Oh! I got it!”
“Alright, lay it on me.”
“…Life in a pit…is freedom.”
“Uh huh.”
“Just wait. There’s more. Okay. Life in a pit is about freedom. Life in a pit is about living in the moment, in a vertically unencumbered world.
“Matt, you said, right? You seem a little concerned about me, about my way of life, but let me say, that I’m more free than anyone above ground in the prime horizontal plane could ever be. Up there, you’re limited in your physical movement, while in constant motion. Your body can only go so many places, while your mind lives in a polydimensional reality. Your mind, disengaged from the boring 2-dimensional topology you live in, does anything it can to stretch itself. It races to the future, and it pulls you to the past.
“Up in the prime horizontal plane you live life by a schedule, yet another dimensional constraint, being at work by 7, being in bed by 10, saving up for some week-long planned vacation to undo the thing you’ve endured to pay for the vacation in the first place, all while dodging speeding cars driven by similarly hopeless, blind horizon seekers, and living within the confines of a reality which you helped build, and which built you. It will not stop as long as you participate in it.
“The pit allows you to escape those confines. You go deeper, stretching down, down, down until the horizontal world no longer recognizes you. And then you can build your own world freely, on your terms, an extra entire dimension at your disposal. This freedom of motion provides a proper challenge to the mind, and it suddenly does not feel as if the mind is reeling towards any potential or past events, instead focused on the moment itself.
“Life in a pit is ninety-nine per cent meditative silence, considering your state of being, letting go of the past and the future. It is about finding, honing the senses that you’ve neglected your whole life, and utilizing them to form an extra perceptual life, where the unconscious thought becomes conscious.
“The other one per cent is unexpected, open-minded conversations with horizontally oriented strangers such as yourself coming after days of silent reflection. Each of us imparts and accepts osmotic wisdom where it is most beneficial, in what will be remembered by you as a once-in-a-lifetime interaction.
“My day is freedom. My night is peace. The time I’ve won in living in this pit, it’s a gift to myself. And I use that time, and that freedom, and that peace, and the wisdom gained from people like you, and I think. And I craft perfect worlds within myself, populated with rich characters representing your wisdom. They all exist within me. In some small ways, I am not unlike God. All thanks to this life in a pit.
“From the bottom of my heart, in the bottom of this pit, I believe that life in a pit is perfect. And I think more people should live in pits, so they can feel the gifts that pit life bestows for themselves.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty great.”
“I never really thought of life that way.”
“I’m glad I could share my perspective.”
“And you just live life on your own terms. No one else’s?”
“Yeah. Now, if you’d consider buying me one of those delicious caramel frap-”
“I’m coming down.”
“puccino-what?”
“I’m coming down. That sounds perfect. More than perfect. I hate it up here. It’s so boring. The people suck so much. I want what you have, and I don’t want to waste another minute thinking about it. Should I bring my backpack? It’s just in my car.”
“No, that’s uh…you see, the thing is, this is really just a one-man pit.”
“Ah, you said it had plenty of room! I’m sure it’ll be fine. Maybe I should go buy a shovel or something?”
“No, but this is my pit. Mine. I just…I took a lot of time to carve it out.”
“Well, yeah, but I could come down there, and we could carve like, a lot bigger pit. More bathrooms. And we could expand! Hey, we could make more pits like this, in other cities, and bring more people down to join us. No do you think I need a change of clothes? I actually have a travel toothbrush in my backpack.”
“No! No backpacks. No travel toothbrushes. We don’t need shovels, or pickaxes, or clothes, or freaking flashlights, or any freaking other thing you can think of. This is my pit! You’re not welcome down here.”
“…”
“…”
“…Yeah the flashlight was a good idea actually. Let me grab one real quick. I’ll be right back. Oh, do you think we’ll need an umbrella? All this stuff is in my car.”
“Please. Please just…I want a Starbucks. That’s all I want. Can you please just get me that? You can drop it down, I don’t mind the splash.”
“I don’t know man. Those drinks are like, seven dollars now.”
“Seven doll- Jesus, that’s expensive.”
“Yeah, inflation man. Anyways I’m going to my car to grab that stuff, BRB bro!”
“‘BRB?’ Okay Phil. It’s fine. Honestly, it’s more than fine. It’s like a hundred-foot drop. He’ll never make the jump alive. If nothing else his body will make for good emergency rations in a pinch.”
“Coming down! Whoooooooooooo-”
“Ah!”
“oooooooooo-huh!”
“Jeez a little warning man. Hey. Wait. You alive? Hey. Hey!”
“Hey Phil! Yeah, I’m fine! Wait, your name is Phil, right?”
“…yeah. How did you survive that fall?”
“Oh, I’m pretty into crossfit.”
“What’s crossfit?”
“You’ve never heard of crossfit? What, have you been living in a pit?”
“…”
“No worries. We’ve got plenty of time, I’ll show ya! Anyways I ended up getting you a coffee from across the street like you asked, to say thanks.”
“Caramel Frappuccino?”
“Olive Oil latte.”
“Ugh. No thanks.”
“So this is the digs, huh?”
“You into puns, Matt?”
“Very.”
“Well, that’s the pits.”
“It’s pretty dark down here.”
“Yeah well, it is underground.”
“Yeah. I can’t wait to get started man. The silence. The freedom. The peace. Solitude. Ah. It’s perfect.”
“It really was…”
