The Philosopher's Angst

Well folks, today is another day. Much like any other. However, I have been renewed today in a way that is entirely new for me. I awoke this morning much as I have awoken every school day this semester. Which is to say I awoke wondering why the hell I am going through this hell of boringness that has become my classes when I'd much rather sleep a few more hours and trottle off later to some mindless job and no longer be broke. After all, I'm having soooo much trouble giving solid referential (ie external) evidence for the pantheist thesis I've been hounding for the last few years of my life. So much trouble in fact, that I was beginning to question my philosophic ability. No more. Should you care to know why, please read on.

He left the physics building a man defeated. Two little formulae. Just two. Not now. Definately not now. Perhaps his thinking as of late was right. Maybe he wasn't a scholar or a wise man. Perhaps he was just a working shmoe. But that can't be! Mediocrity equals death. To do what has been done is to do nothing. Perhaps Harry has some answers he's willing to share. Besides, he always makes an extra effort to help his students feel better. But not this time. More existential bull. He left Harry's presence infused with new ideas, but little new hope. Walking, head hung down, toward a mediocre lunch, a voice rang out. "The most important question in philosophy is 'would you like fries with that?'" it said. In a whiplash motion, head raised. Did he hear what he thought he heard? And who said it? YES! YES! YES! OH YES! The beaten down philosopher rejoiced. For he had just experienced exactly the justification he had been seeking. For our downtrodden philosopher had just found that his humorous wisdom had traveled out into the world and come back full circle successfully. Now all that remains is translation into swahili.