Hedonists Are Bound to Fail (Taken from Chapter 6)

Did you ever hear the expression, “The average man thinks he is smarter than the average man”? It seems to be a quirk of human nature that people feel the rules of human nature apply to everyone — except me. Me, I am just… different.

So let’s assume that while I know that “there’s more to life than money,” that’s true for all those little people who don’t know how to spend their money. But me? I am way smarter than that. I know having money in the bank won’t make me happy. It’s knowing how to spend it that brings happiness. Just give me enough money, and I will be as happy as a lark.

Let’s take this a step further. Imagine that I get a chance to try it out. My greatest wish is granted — I win the lotto. But not just a lotto, I win the largest single payout in history of the US lottery: 365 million dollars in cash. Awesome joy! I made it. I have arrived. I am rich! Rich! RICH!

And so, since all that has been standing between me and some real happiness has been this lack of money thing, now that I have it, I intend to enjoy it! So I set out to have pleasure. But not a little bit of pleasure. Not some haphazard come-as-it-may pleasure, but real pleasure, heaps and heaps of it. Pleasures upon pleasures. As much downright pure pleasure as I can possibly cram in. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we may die! Let’s party!

My Life of Pleasure

The first thing I do is buy myself a private island in the Pacific. What better place to enjoy life than there? I hire a team of butlers and maids and an entire dining room staff. An Italian chef for breakfast, Mediterranean cuisine for lunch, and for dinner nothing but the finest: my personal French chef.

And so, I set out on my pursuit of pleasure.

I plan breakfast for the first morning: Belgian waffles, delicately toasted, covered in Vermont maple syrup, topped with fresh-picked strawberries and hand-whipped cream. I’ll have orange juice flown in that morning from Brazil — all served by white-gloved waiters.

As I prepare for my feast, my anticipation couldn’t be higher. I mean, this is going to be great. Just wait till I taste those waffles… The fluffiness, the gentle flow of sweetness, the depth of flavor — Heaven! I can’t wait for the first bite. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

And now I am there, the first morning of my pleasure excursion. I approach the table. My personal waiter pulls out the chair, and I sit down. The plate of food is brought in — covered of course, so that it arrives at exactly the temperature it came off the griddle — Heaven forefend for it to cool off while it is being brought out to me. The waiter sets it down, removes the cover, and…         the first bite — wow! It is everything that I thought it would be. (Well, almost… I mean, they do taste very good.)

The second bite not far behind, as I concentrate on the aromas that waft through my palette, I focus on the balance of flavors, and textures. Then the third bite, then the fourth… Then something happens… I find my mind wandering. I just start thinking about my day and everything else I have planned, and before I know it, I am almost finished the plate. Hey, what happened?… My waffles… the maple syrup… my personal chef… And I discover the first rule of pleasure:

The sizzle is better than the steak.

The First Rule of Pleasure

Did you ever notice that the restaurant ads show a thick slice of meat about to be put on the grill, then SZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! The smoke goes up, and you can almost taste the meat. Why don’t they just show the cooked meat on the plate?

The answer is that one of the rules of marketing is: sell the sizzle, not the steak. Madison Avenue understands well that the anticipated pleasure is much greater than the actual pleasure.

Imagine how good it is going to be. Better than anything you have ever experienced. More delicious than anything you’ve ever tasted.

A funny thing happens when you actually bite into the dish. It isn’t that the steak isn’t good, and it isn’t that the sizzle isn’t real; it’s just that the anticipation was far greater than the pleasure. The sizzle is always better than the steak.

The buildup is great, the anticipation is powerful — but the pleasure never lives up to the promise. Every pleasure is over-promised and under-delivered. The pleasure is built up to be the biggest and best thing that man has ever seen. And while the first bite is pleasurable, that pleasure quickly fades. Because the hype is always greater than what is delivered.

I Will Not Be Deterred

But I am a diehard pleasure-seeker, and a little touch of reality isn’t going to put me off, so I continue on my journey. I finish my first helping, ask for a second and a third, and continue to enjoy a gala breakfast celebration.

Of course, no breakfast would be complete without dessert. Ah! A bit of Rocky Road, my private blend of ice cream, topped with hot Swiss chocolate and fresh whipped cream — only from Hereford cows, please; their cream is just so much thicker.

And I lash into this with the same gusto. (Well, almost the same, because I am pretty full by now.) But this stuff is great; I mean, really great. The first spoon, the second, the third… And then I start slowing down as I simply run out of room. Hmmmmmm? And I suddenly discover the second rule of pleasure:

Every pleasure has a limit.

The Second Rule of Pleasure

No matter what the pleasure is, it lasts for a finite amount of time, and then you are forced to stop. You can eat for thirty minutes, an hour, maybe even two hours, but then you are stuffed — there is just no more room.

Forget the hype, forget the buildup, and forget the sizzle being better than the steak. Let’s take the pleasure itself. Assuming that it really is a deep, rich, memorable experience, how long does it last? No matter how great the pleasure is, if you count the actual time that you had “pleasure,” you will find it to be very short, and then it is done.

Breakfast might last for an hour, but the actual time of intense and profound pleasure, when you were concentrating and taking in all the flavors and aromas, was probably only ten minutes if that long. Lunch might stretch out over an hour and a half, but the actual time of unique, dramatic eating enjoyment won’t be much more than twenty minutes. If we throw in a candle-lit dinner set against the ocean backdrop, assuming that you aren’t distracted by the company, the conversation, your own inner chatter, or whatever else pulls at you at that moment, you might add another twenty minutes. So we have racked up less than an hour of intense powerful pleasure.

And that is the second rule of pleasure: Every pleasure has its limit. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, maybe an hour — then it is done.

Universal Laws of Pleasure

The interesting part is that these rules show themselves in every culture and every time period. They seem to be an iron law of man’s stay on the planet. All pleasures are limited and passing. They look so alluring, so tempting. It really seems that my life will be different, but the physical pleasures pass and I am left… the same.

I Am Not Giving Up Yet!

To be honest, by this point, this pursuit of pleasures thing is starting to wear a bit thin, but my entire life, all that I have asked for is some good powerful pleasure — I’m not giving up now that I am finally here! If eating can’t do it for me, then I will find other ways.

So, off I go to a carefree life of pleasures and enjoyment. First to the Mercedes dealership to buy a string of cars in every color of the rainbow. Next off to Africa for a hot air balloon ride over the Serengeti. Then to Paris to go bungee cord jumping off the Eiffel Tower. No expense is too great, no distance too far — the absolute pursuit of pleasure is my goal.

And I must admit, it is great! Wow! The rush of adrenaline as I looked down and watched a rhinoceros charging out of the undergrowth! (Well, it didn’t really charge, but it did sort of walk, and I did have to hover for two hours in 115 degree heat till it finally decided to move.) That sense of excitement and exhilaration as I stared down a thousand feet to the concrete of the French street below! (Terror might be a better word, but I said to myself, “Yes, now this is truly living.”)

But when it is all over and I come back from my exotic and far-flung adventures, I discover the fourth rule of pleasure:

I had a good time.

The next Rule of Pleasure

Ask someone to describe a pleasurable experience, maybe a week-long cruise to the Bahamas, a ski trip to the Swiss Alps, and carefully study their description:

“Wow, it was amazing.”

“I had such a great time.”

“I enjoyed it so much.”

Please note that all of these are in the past tense, as in:

“Wow, it was amazing.”

“I had such a great time.”

“I enjoyed it so much.”

And so we come to the next rule of pleasure: Once the pleasure is had, it is gone.

Used up. No more. Nothing left but memories. I am left as I was before the pleasure — unchanged.

What Are We Up To?

Now, as they say, the plot thickens. It is clear that Hashem wants us to enjoy life, as He created many, many pleasures, and gave us the ability to benefit from them. He also gave us the drive to seek them. Yet, for some reason all pleasures seem to be so limited, so difficult to attain, and so passing. Does He want us to enjoy them or not? If He doesn’t want us to benefit from all of these features, why put them there in the first place? If He does want us to enjoy them, why is it so difficult?

Bring the Shmuz to your Community!

The new Shmuz on Life books, will, IY”HASHEM, be arriving by the end of November. To help promote the book, I am interested in speaking in various communities. If you feel that yours shul, school, or organization would benefit from the Shmuz, please let me know and we can discuss the details about bringing the Shmuz.

Also, I am looking for volunteers to place copies of the book excerpt in their Shuls. It is a small booklet that contains the first two chapters of the book and is a great way of letting people gets a taste for the Shmuz on Life book.  If you are willing to take a few copies and leave them in your shul for others to look at, please let me know.

You can either e-mail Mrs Zweig by responding to this e-mail, or you may e-mail me directly at Rebbe@TheShmuz.com.