Given the unlikelihood of being born at all, it seems logical that one would make every effort not to squander the great miracle of life.
Seems that way, yes. What this line of reason fails to account for, however, is that squandering great miracles itself represents a privilege unique to the living.
In his Histories, Herodotus relates how the Persians would either make a decision while drunk and then review it while sober or make a decision while sober and then review it while drunk.
A student of the great texts, I find real value in this technique. Not only that, but I believe I have improved upon it. My solution? To remain always half-drunk and half-sober. That way, I can deliberate upon and also review important matters simultaneously. This is how I have become an expert decision-maker.
Those who contend that a “rising tide lifts all boats” fail to recognize that not everyone identifies with the boats in that metaphor.
To be hailed as a model of the genre… and then to learn that the genre is whimpering.
I’m wary of those who feel compelled to wait for a certain hour before they start drinking for the day. It’s the sort of practice adopted by one afraid of his own appetites.
That’s why I endeavor to drink whenever I’m moved to do so. It’s merely one way in which I’ve committed to performing virtue.
Athenian statesman Solon contended that no man’s life could be regarded as happy until after he’d died. More recent data suggests that Solon’s timetable might have been optimistic.
Here’s the great benefit of embracing a determinist perspective: one finally knows that his efforts are futile, rather than merely suspecting it.
OSCAR WILDE is in the rural South, where he’s confronted by an AREA RESIDENT.
AREA RESIDENT
You don’t look like you’re from around here, boy.
OSCAR WILDE
Given the impression I’ve formed of the place, I’m inclined to regard that as a compliment.
I used to regard it as the purpose of literature to facilitate brief moments of ecstasy. This is one way in which I’ve improved, perhaps. Now I don’t burden anyone, myself included, with reflections on the use of literature.
Periodically, one is compelled to perform some existential calculus — namely, to determine if the trouble of being alive is outweighed by the pleasure that life facilitates. Fortunately, one isn’t also compelled to show his work.
The New Enthusiast 