Beware of the pudding!

My inspiration for this idiom is of course the old saying ‘to bang your head against a brick wall’. However, striking a wall, although definitely more painful, entails a much quicker resolution. You’re not stuck in a state of uncertainty because you find out straight away: it‘s either your head or the damned wall. And everything becomes bright and clear even though you’ve knocked yourself out.

Matters don’t reach such a bloody head in the case of pudding, nor are they resolved so quickly. Banging your head against pudding is like this: you go through life with your head stuck out in front expecting a fight, like a ram. You bash down some hurdles into the dust; but avoid others – just in case. Suddenly your head comes into contact with gunk. The glugging goo softly cushions the impact, giving way to your blow. However, when you pull your head back, bewildered by the unusual sensation, the pudding returns to its place. Ripples on the surface spread out ever more slowly until they finally dissipate and again you’re presented with a smooth mirror-like surface. Absolute silence ensues, so you run-up and try again. But again you get stuck in the sticky goo, which covers half your head with a nasty squelch and absorbs your impact. And when you pull back, the pudding returns to its original shape. And everything is the same as before just like nothing had ever happened. You can shout, punch with your fist and even take a spinning kick like a certain Texas ranger, but be sure of this: the effect will remain the same. None at all. The pudding is not impressed by your actions whatsoever. It is above all of that.

There are a few possible outcomes to banging your head against pudding. Outcome 1, the opportunistic result: You will try to charge through it many times but finally you will tire, hitting it with ever less force. You will run out of strength and lie down on the surface to rest. Then it turns out that lying on the pudding is not so bad. It’s soft, warm and it rocks you pleasantly... And then you stay there forever. The pudding has you.

Outcome 2, the tragic one: You insist on trying again and again because every pudding must eventually give in. However, you’ve just made a fatal error in your thinking: the pudding is a passive and amorphous mass; it doesn’t have to do anything. Instead, it engulfs you pulling you in deeper and deeper. This is not due to some murderous intent or perverse pleasure – it simply is like that. The more you fight, the sooner you disappear. Without a trace. It’s lousy because your insurer is never going to believe your spouse if they say you were killed by goo.

Outcome 3, for the lawyers among you: You quickly realise that fighting makes no sense. So you turn around and try to find another, less greedy pudding, with which you might come to an arrangement i.e. you find another job.

To sum up: buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, cause Kansas is going bye-bye. There’s no escape from the pudding.