The Meaning of Existence is evident in its acronym: ME. “Simplify, simplify,” Thoreau said. “Keep it simple, stupid,” we say today.
Who better exemplified that than the blood-spitting rock band KISS? They inspired me to visit my old classics teacher Mrs. Robinson. She was surprised to see me.
“Sullivan?” she said, squinting through her quad-focals. “Oh, yes. You were quite a … handful. Have you found meaning in life?”
I have, I said. In the classics.
“That’s sublime!” she said. “Beethoven, Bach …”
I mean classic rock, I said, whipping out my iPod. Listen:
“I … wanna rock’n’roll all ni-i-i-ight! And party every day!”
KISS, I said. Philosophers of hedonism, or me-donism as I call it.
“Gracious!” she said. “Wait a minute.” The old lady left the powder room, then returned wearing only gold lamé panties.
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