Deal or No Deal

There’s something Kafkaesque about the show, and I only realized it yesterday. If you’ve been out of the planet for the past few months, it’s a show where one contestant chooses one briefcase among 26, and bets on its value against a “banker’s” offer which depends on the possible amounts left after opening one briefcase after another. Whew.

Imagine that each briefcase contains a possible “boy” [or girl, whatever suits your taste] instead of an actual amount of money. The spectrum from worst to almost-perfect human being will be distributed among the cases.

Then, imagine instead of a banker, you have “God” to bargain with. There’s a catch, you can never have a direct transaction with God [not even a phone call through Ms. Kris Aquino, no relation to yours truly]. You just take hints, signs of sort, like seeing him/her twice in the course of 24 hours, or you sharing the same taste in books.

At some point, maybe you’ll realize that you don’t want to risk getting the worst, and there will come a time you’d take what God offers you. You bring your hands into fists, pointing your thumbs upward, then pressing the red button with all your might, you scream “DEAL!!!!”

You take it home, you have it.

But you’ll always think, what was in the briefcase?

Because people are inherently fashioned to be perpetually dissatisfied pandimensional beings. But at the same time, there’s an unseen force that counters this, the will to settle (for anything less) because uncertainty could drive people nuts. Some would take the offer, but would secretly salivate over the unopened briefcase, and others would even go as far as stealing the briefcase right after settling for something, quite possibly, less. Cheater!

Think of another scenario, you take the briefcase after saying “No Deal” to God [an absurd act, if you ask me]. There’s another catch, and God never told you. You may take the briefcase home, but…

It can never be opened.

Like the story in Kafka’s The Law, one would inevitably realize, you can’t have your cake and (vomit) eat it too. The briefcase contains a possibility, and it will always be meant for you because you chose it. But what you’re never told is that, that possibility will forever remain as such… a possibility. And once you’re gone, the possibility shall disappear with you. Why? Because even if you could never have it, it only survived because it found nourishment from your desire.

So, deal… or no deal?

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