There are many mysterious truths in this world. Almost anyone can tell you a couple, whether they’re a student, a lecturer, the owner of a business or something else completely. An economist will talk about how the hidden hand of the market manipulates prices without any conscious human input. A chemist might say that one of the smallest building blocks of matter can change the most volatile element into a harmless gas. A psychologist could tell you that a physicist would say the same thing as a chemist. Mathematicians are an exception to this, given that they know literally everything. And we, dear reader, are telling you that for every three hundred and fifty people on this earth there is one twenty-litre mayonnaise bucket filled with something that is not mayonnaise. Now, granted, that may not seem like very many, but even having one raises far, far too many questions. To find some answers we enlisted the help of one of our local college kitchens. When we say “enlisted”, we, of course, mean we put aside our crippling fear of public conversation and briefly and awkwardly spoke to one of the chefs who works there. They quickly admitted that they indeed did have a twenty-litre mayonnaise bucket filled with something that was not mayonnaise. When questioned about it they simply said that it was cheaper to buy twenty litres of mayonnaise than it is to buy a two-litre bucket, presumably not originally filled with mayonnaise. Unfortunately, at that point we remembered that speaking to people is an experience on par with looking at spiders and using public transportation, so we made our excuses and ran away screaming to breathe heavily under a bridge for an hour. This means we did not have time to hear why it was mayonnaise specifically and not, say, salt, or asparagus, nor what exactly is in the twenty-litre mayonnaise bucket that is not mayonnaise, so we will assume that they simply refused to answer.
Perhaps, you, dear reader, might think that this blatant dodging of questions could be an isolated incident; however, you would be mistaken. Why, just a few weeks ago we were getting free pancakes at the courtyard when we noticed two twenty-litre mayonnaise buckets filled with something that was not mayonnaise. Now, you may fault us for not asking the free pancake makers about these twenty-litre mayonnaise buckets, but we would fault them for not straight up telling us about the mysterious contents and questionable origins of the buckets. Truly, who are the victims here?
The only thing we can discern about these buckets is that they always seem to be involved with food of some sort, though not necessarily for humans. You see, years ago, before we discovered rap and developed irrational fears, we visited a wildlife park. In it there was a man holding, yes, a twenty-litre mayonnaise bucket, and he was throwing raw meat out of it to the crocodiles. We asked him what happened to the mayonnaise inside the buckets, to which he ominously replied “the kitchen”, before signalling to the other workers that we had asked about the buckets. The rest of the day consisted of walking around the park while being followed by the eyes of men wearing tiny, olive shorts.
After all this we still only know of one thing ever put into a twenty-litre mayonnaise bucket and we know next to nothing about them. Perhaps all kitchens secretly make sacrifices to some crocodile god, though even that doesn’t answer all of our questions. We probably will never know all we feel we need to, but that alone gives us hope. To feel that there are mysteries out there, mysteries irrefutable and mysterious, mysteries that are nigh impossible and will likely never be solved. Hunting for the answer of something like that would be called, by some, a waste of time. But to us, it has meaning. Even if we cannot find every piece of the puzzle, we might get an idea of what it might eventually reveal. But we cannot be satisfied by just that. We may never find the answer; but a step taken forward is a step not taken back.
Until next time,