Go, Seabass (yarr!)
On this, one of Steve’s last days at the Free Press, he sends us the following, which is effectively one man’s meaning of life:
To me, it’s always a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, “Hey, can you give me a hand?,” you can say, “Sorry, got these sacks.” I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they’d never expect it. A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk I have a work station….. Isn’t it a bit unnerving that doctors call what they do “practice?” There’s no future in time travel. If you can’t convince them, confuse them. Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity. I believe you should live each day as if it is your last, which is why I don’t have any clean laundry because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life? I gaze at the brilliant full moon. The same one, I think to myself, at which Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato gazed. Suddenly, I imagine they appear beside me. I tell Socrates about the national debate over one’s right to die and wonder at the constancy of the human condition. I tell Plato that I live in the country that has come the closest to Utopia, and I show him a copy of the Constitution. I tell Aristotle that we have found many more than four basic elements and I show him a periodic table. I get a box of kitchen matches and strike one. They gasp with wonder. We spend the rest of the night lighting farts.
And how.