The Universal Remote Control
Life
In the vast and mysterious universe of household gadgets, there exists an object so enigmatic, so profoundly pointless, that it has baffled philosophers, scientists, and at least one moderately confused dog. This object is, of course, the remote control that doesn’t do anything.
At first glance, it appears to be a perfectly ordinary remote control. It has buttons—many, many buttons—each labelled with cryptic hieroglyphs such as “AV2,” “PIP,” and “Mystery Function X.” It boasts a sleek, ergonomic design, which is to say it is slightly too large to fit comfortably in any known human hand. It even has a little red light that blinks reassuringly when you press a button, as if to say, “Yes, I have received your command and am now ignoring it.”
The primary function of the remote control that doesn’t do anything is, as the name suggests, to do absolutely nothing. Pressing the buttons will not change the channel, adjust the volume, or even turn on the television. In fact, it is entirely possible that the remote is not, and never has been, paired with any device in your home, your neighbourhood, or your dimension.
Experts believe that the remote control that doesn’t do anything serves a vital psychological purpose. It provides a sense of agency in a world where the batteries are always flat and the instructions are always in Finnish. It is a comforting talisman, a modern-day security blanket, and an excellent tool for pointing at things during heated arguments about what to watch next.
Should you ever find yourself in possession of such a remote, do not despair. Simply place it on the coffee table, where it will gather dust and existential ennui, and remember: sometimes, the most important things in life are the ones that do absolutely nothing at all.