PART 1
INTRODUCTION
During my junior year at UC Santa Cruz, I took a class on Dante’s Inferno. A truly uplifting story about an Italian guy, Dante, who thought he’d take a little jaunt through hell with his buddy Virgil. He breaks hell into 9 circles, each corresponding to a sin. I thought this class would be awesome — like the book version of David Fincher’s Se7en! Instead it was some really dry Italian poetry about all these people who were relevant in 14th century Italy. It’s a snooze. I read the cliff notes and got an A in the class — GO BANANA SLUGS!
Despite the fact that the story itself sucks (and it sucks big time), I love the IDEA. The fact that this Italian dude was just like, “Hey — here’s how hell is laid out in beautiful but boring poetry. 9 circles mother fucker. And oh yeah — the devil has 3 heads. WHAT?! DANTE UP IN THIS BITCH.”
It got me thinking… what would the modern day American version of the Inferno be? I’ll tell you. It’s big and blue and yellow, and it’s not even American. It’s IKEA… on the weekend. And I’m going to tell you why. In order to give this nightmare some structure and map it to Dante’s Inferno, I’m going to take a few liberties and break it down as follows.
THE CIRCLES
Dante lost his way and went berserk in later circles. I mean… heresy? Nobody gives a shit about that anymore. I’m going to keep mine simple and break my 9 circles down as the 7 deadly sins sandwiched in-between Limbo and “the center of hell” where the devil resides. The circles also do not increase with wickedness as they do in Dante’s Inferno — rather they are meant to represent and match the “IKEA Experience.” It’s really more linear in terms of timeline and layout than circular. Honestly, aside from the basic structure, I’m not going to talk about Dante that much. So, you’re welcome. If I somehow “offend” you with inaccuracies — let me say two things. ONE: Good. TWO: I don’t care. This is MY inferno.
Before embarking on this journey, I feel obligated to enter a disclaimer: I do not actually harbor any ill-will against IKEA. IKEA makes a mean meatball, and does serve a purpose (I guess) in society. I can think of things in this world A LOT worse than IKEA. Famine and war… just off the top of my head. Now that we have that out of the way — on we march.
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LIMBO (FIRST CIRCLE):
In the Inferno, Limbo is reserved for decent souls who had the misfortune of living before Jesus was a thing (that seems fair). Dante encounters great poets and philosophers from ancient Greece such as Homer and Aristotle, each offering wisdom and perspective.
Limbo at IKEA is a bit different. The warnings and wisdom do not come from old, dead Greek dudes. There are no wise poets or philosophers issuing warnings outside the gates — for if there were, many a soul would be saved. Instead of advice, you are left with a feeling. A feeling deep in your bones. It’s the feeling that something truly dreadful lies ahead. It’s with you in the parking lot. You put your car in park and let out a heavy sigh. “Did I leave the garage door open… maybe I should go back.” It grows stronger as you approach the entrance. “My foot kind of hurts. Am I really up for a big day of walking and shopping?”
As the sliding doors scan your iris and open, the cold beads of sweat start to drip down your forehead. You just KNOW you shouldn’t go in. YOU KNOW IT. But every trip to IKEA begins with a sin. The sin of betrayal. You ignore every fiber in your body and betray YOURSELF. As the sliding doors open, you hear the wind whisper, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”
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LUST (SECOND CIRCLE):
Ikea does not discriminate between lust and love. This place is not one for lovers, lusters, or any carbon-based being for that matter. If you go alone, you’re in what I’d describe as a “Hunger Games” situation. Every man/woman/child for themselves. But if you go with someone you truly care about — you are playing with fire. If love is a star shining bright in its majesty in the ever expanding galaxy, then IKEA is the black hole that tears it into pieces of stretched time and dark matter.
It starts out innocent…almost inviting. Oh, look at all these tiny irrelevant decisions we need to make together that we are bound to disagree on. The sick, SICK irony of ANY IKEA decision is that there is no right answer. EVERY answer is wrong. No matter what option you choose, no matter which charming Swedish-named reading lamp you prefer (I’m a GRÖNÖ guy myself) – they are all bound to be fatally flawed. Once home, the fighting continues, as you need to have a PhD in electrical engineering to get the lamp to work.
In our most recent trip, my wife and I bought a toilet brush. It didn’t come fully assembled.
Let that sink in.
A toilet brush. That needed to be assembled.
… why?
…… Why do this to people?
It’s a toilet brush! I have to assemble this?!
FUCK YOU, IKEA. I’ll have a double scotch.
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END PART 1
Death By Content 
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