I love peanut butter. I like fried chicken. I dislike celery. I hate peppermint. I both love and hate Long John Silvers. I’m made uncomfortable by chicken broth. I’m developing a surprising affinity for spicy tomato juice.
But I am completely neutral about pumpkin pie.
I do not love pumpkin pie. I do not hate pumpkin pie. I do not like pumpkin pie. I do not dislike pumpkin pie. I have no feelings about pumpkin pie whatsoever.
To me, pumpkin pie is neither delicious or nasty. Pumpkin pie simply is.
People do not know what to make of pumpkin pie neutrality. They think I choose pumpkin pie based on the merits of its presenter. But it is not so. I do not select your pumpkin pie because I like you or reject yours because I hate you. There is no more emotion involved than there is for a set of dice deciding to roll snake eyes.
“Oi, so wha’ if someone offahs you some pumpkin poi, then, eh? We shall see wha’ yoh bloody neutrality is wohth then, wot?”
But I’m afraid you shant, my dear Cockney friend. For if you offered me pumpkin pie twelve times, half a dozen times I would say yes, and six times I would say no. And if you asked me why, I would tell you, “I eat pumpkin pie because I eat it. I do not eat pumpkin pie because I do not eat it. There is no greater reason than that.”
Some people believe that all behavior is a result of our past experiences. They believe that if you could truly know a person, you could predict their actions with 100% certainty–that all of our choices are dictated by facets of our personalities we aren’t even aware of.
But those people did not count on my absolute indifference to pumpkin pie. Pumpkin pie is a moist, orange roulette wheel, upon which turns the fate of the world. Every time someone offers me pumpkin pie, the universe splits into two different universes: one where I eat pumpkin pie and one where I do not. My relationship with pumpkin pie is one of the pillars of chaos that the mad tumblings of the world rest upon.
So be forewarned, every time you offer me pumpkin pie, you make the world a stranger, more chaotic place.
Will I eat it? Will I not?