Earth was a dull place. Humans, the third most intelligent life form there, agreed with pretty much everything. They all agreed, for instance, that anything anyone ever wants in life is to sit down and eat a sandwich in peace, and they all agreed that getting crushed by a garbage compactor results in a gruesome death, even after multiple refutations from the “experts” at the Maximegalon Institute of Slowly and Painfully Working Out the Surprisingly Obvious. To be fair, however, the research was only in its initial stages, which many consider proof of its invalidity.

The research was never finished because, in deciding how to proceed with it, the experts got into an argument which ended with the department head being crushed by a garbage compactor and dying gruesomely. His ghost still maintains that his death was not caused by the garbage compactor, but by the fact that, having entered a state of harmony with the trash, he became one with it, only to subsequently eat a metaphysical sandwich and, with no more reasons to live, decided to let go and die.

In either case, life in agreement with everyone else was so dull that humans always spent their free time pretending to disagree about politics and delaying eating their sandwiches. Many argued that this was a waste of time and let’s just eat our sandwiches and be satisfied already. Until one strange day when the gods in charge of maintaining colour consistency got into an argument with one of the humans over the existence of the colour blurple. The gods claimed that such a colour did not exist, but the human refused to recognize the authority of the gods to make such a claim and claimed himself that the colour did exist but was kept secret from humans because of divine qualities. Feeling offended by the claim, the gods decided it was finally time to go to therapy to work out some power insecurities caused by father issues.

This whole event left Earth with no colour consistency, which finally created a disagreement over the true colour of a picture of a dress. The many that thought that arguing over politics was a waste of time also claimed that the dress argument was also stupid and a waste of brain power, until they saw the picture in question and realized they couldn’t agree with the colour of the dress themselves. Divided, some of those people decided that solving the dress debacle was in fact a worthwhile debate and proceeded to google scientific explanations for its colour duality, only to find that these were not any more convincing than the Institute’s theory about garbage compactors. Others decided life could only get better if they became one with the dress, just like the researcher at the Institute, and, having done so, they realized the dress did not give any fucks about which colour it was. Those people were soon considered to be wiser than the rest, and they were elected as the new gods of colour consistency.

When the actual gods of colour consistency returned, however, they felt offended by their replacement and started a debate with the new gods of colour consistency, who considered the debate to be a waste of time and returned to their godly functions such as claiming that blurple was, in fact, a colour and ignoring anyone who wanted to pretend to disagree with that.