The back is the least imaginatively named of the body parts. A Greek scientist named Melion of Cantaloupa discovered it somewhere around the 12th century BC; he also invented the waterwheel and the concept of appetizers that day.

“What if we eat something before we eat?”

“This is like that other dumb idea you had. What did you call it? Desert?”

“Dessert. Two S’s. And this is nothing like that.”

“How is it different.”

“It’s before.”

“Dude, you’re real lucky I just invented Stoicism, because otherwise you’d be pissing me off right now.”

And so on.

Melion divided the back into several parts: the backiupsilon, which is the upper part behind the shoulders; the backimedia, which is the middle part that you cannot wash or scratch by yourself; and the backiagonista, which is above the tushee. Melion noted in his great lost work Physiogony that the back contained the spine (which he thought contained something that has alternately been translated as “motion fluid” and “Zeus’ ejaculate”), the rear ribs, and a series of muscles, ligaments, and tendons that were connected to virtually every other part of the body. Melion made these discoveries while lying down on the hardest rock he could find while his wife held his legs aloft as he yelled at her.


“Stop yelling at me!”

“Woman, if I could move, I would invent the gun and shoot both of us.”

As Melion shows us, the back is often a source of constant, or recurring, pain for human beings. We can easily discern the reason for this by looking at all the other animals our size who walk uprightohwait there aren’t any. Unlike every other species of megafuana, Homo sapiens rests all its weight and expends all its energy through two limbs instead of four, and all that power and stress and strain goes directly through the back. Add to this the fact that we evolved to walk on ground while barefoot, instead of concrete while wearing flippity-flops or cowboy boots, and you have a perfect recipe for back problems.

Throughout the years, there have been fixes, remedies, tonics, procedures, unguents, balms, salves, stinky poultices, and elaborate exercise routines prescribed for backaches. Machines resembling the medieval rack have been employed, except during the Middle Ages, when people just used the actual rack. Yoga, pilates, tai chi,  fun-shu (that’s a Chinese thing where fat guys whip oranges at your shoulder blades),  toro-bazugo (same thing as fun shu, but the fat guys are Japanese), and plain old calisthenics have been recommended to ameliorate the pain. Opiates have been deployed. Recently, surgeons have begun going in and welding shit together.

One will note the word “cure” was not used in the previous paragraph.

˙uʍop ǝᴉl oƃ puɐ ƃuᴉʇᴉɹʍ doʇS ˙ʎǝH

Who are you?

˙ɥɔʇᴉq ‘pɐd ƃuᴉʇɐǝɥ ʎɯ ǝɯ ƃuᴉɹq

NO. NO, Lower Back. You are not a fucking character in this bullshit!

˙uᴉpoɔᴉʌ ǝɯ pǝǝℲ

NO. Get out of here! Shoo! Get!

That was weird

Who was that?

Lower Back.

Dude. Dude? You need to start dating again.

The world isn’t ready for me.

You’re just, you know, constantly having conversations with concepts.

In my defense, Lower Back started that conversation.

Sure, champ. You all better?

Not all. Not even some.

But you can sit upright?


Goody for everyone. What’s your particular remedy for back pain?

Heating pad and I binge-watched a season of The L Word.

Jesus, why?

You can only feel one pain at a time. The show’s so terrible, I couldn’t feel my back.

Not bad thinking.

I’m an ideas guy.