I was going to make this title a dumb rock pun, but I'm too lazy to think of one
I sent in an application for a Chinese entrance visa yesterday. If everything works out, I'll be flying to Beijing the second week of July, meeting up with Dan Stafford, and then traveling all around the country. Dan Stafford and I have been Dans together since we were 5, so this trip is just one more step toward our merge into a single Dan - Dan Stubner. Dan Stubner will be unstoppable, because the Stafford half knows Latin, and the Hubner half knows how to play in creeks for scientific purposes.
Some drunk-driving rad dudes pegged me with a football-sized rock while I was biking home from Ian's tonight. When it first hit me, I couldn't even figure out what was happening - like, a "brain does not have proper circuit to interpret this stimulus" situation. Then I heard the mumbly mouth-breather laughter from the car as it sped off (huhh-huhh-huhh), saw the rock laying by me, and put two and two together. Which prompted me to declare, "What, seriously? You've got to be fucking kidding me." Then I started to get all adrenaline-y, so I hopped back on my bike and cruised around the neighborhood for a while in the direction the car went, figuring that if they were dumb enough to have parked nearby, I'd find a rock of my own and smash all their windows. This strategy did not pan out, which I guess is for the best... Although sweet illegal justice is a pretty brilliant and consequence-free idea, right?
So now I'm cranky, and my left arm, knee, and kidney-area hurt pretty bad. But I think I've hit on some deep philosophical wisdom as a result. See, Albert Camus wrote in "The Myth of Sisyphus" that the only important question in life is whether or not to kill yourself. I have not myself read "The Myth of Sisyphus," but other people who want to seem smart have paraphrased it at me without my asking. Which is always fun and interesting, and doesn't at all make me want to shit in a bucket and then run around with that bucket on my head. But anyway, the point is, I think I've one-upped Camus. The only serious question in life is the one I came upon tonight: "What, seriously? You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Some drunk-driving rad dudes pegged me with a football-sized rock while I was biking home from Ian's tonight. When it first hit me, I couldn't even figure out what was happening - like, a "brain does not have proper circuit to interpret this stimulus" situation. Then I heard the mumbly mouth-breather laughter from the car as it sped off (huhh-huhh-huhh), saw the rock laying by me, and put two and two together. Which prompted me to declare, "What, seriously? You've got to be fucking kidding me." Then I started to get all adrenaline-y, so I hopped back on my bike and cruised around the neighborhood for a while in the direction the car went, figuring that if they were dumb enough to have parked nearby, I'd find a rock of my own and smash all their windows. This strategy did not pan out, which I guess is for the best... Although sweet illegal justice is a pretty brilliant and consequence-free idea, right?
So now I'm cranky, and my left arm, knee, and kidney-area hurt pretty bad. But I think I've hit on some deep philosophical wisdom as a result. See, Albert Camus wrote in "The Myth of Sisyphus" that the only important question in life is whether or not to kill yourself. I have not myself read "The Myth of Sisyphus," but other people who want to seem smart have paraphrased it at me without my asking. Which is always fun and interesting, and doesn't at all make me want to shit in a bucket and then run around with that bucket on my head. But anyway, the point is, I think I've one-upped Camus. The only serious question in life is the one I came upon tonight: "What, seriously? You've got to be fucking kidding me."