One day I walked into the kitchen and it was a fucking mess. I hate messy kitchens and I said to myself “why can’t everyone just leave it how they found it?”. If everyone left it how they found it then it would always be tidy, right?

Well actually somebody would have to tidy it first but after that initial tidy it would always be tidy, right? Actually no because things would gradually degrade over time and nobody would repair it because they leave it how they found it.

Clearly the answer is for everyone to leave the room in a slightly better condition than how they found it. If everyone improved the kitchen just a tiny bit it would slowly get better and better until one day it would reach perfection. And on that day someone would walk in the kitchen and say “Holy shit it’s perfect! What is left for me to improve?”.

They realise the only way to improve a perfect kitchen is for them to get the fuck out of there. We can’t have an imperfect human just hanging around in our perfect kitchen.

Then the next guy visits the perfect kitchen and realises that the only way he can improve it is to prevent people from coming in. So he rips out the door and replaces it with a window, now the perfect kitchen is a sealed room where people can observe the perfection through the window but can’t get in there to fuck it up.

Now the next guy shows up to take his turn but there is nothing he can improve because he can’t physically get in there, and even if he could, it’s all perfect… except for one thing: A giant window with a bunch of ugly human faces pressed up to the glass, their orgasmic expressions gurning away in awe at the sight of true perfection.

Only one way to improve the kitchen now: brick up that window! Stop all these clowns from staring in and messing up the perfection. And once that’s done people will tell you the story of the perfect kitchen and you’ll want to see it for yourself, but they say you can’t see it. And you’ll say “well if I can’t see it then it ain’t fucking perfect”.