
Leave it to humans to ascribe something so aggrandizing and delusional to their fixed position in space-time as “purpose.” Only a human would take the sum of all random acts of biology, chemistry and physics since the dawn of time that led to their chance existence on this miracle planet in this chronological micro-blip and filter it through a lens of “meaning.” It’s all meaningless. We are all surrealist punchlines in the grand cosmic joke of the universe.
…ed detached from the world, putting up a wall of indifference between them and anything meaningful. So he took to the pages of the Washington Monthly, condemning the collective youth in a piece titled “Fear of Success.” He accused the era’s twentysomethings of longing for boring and unchallenging jobs, self-sabotaging…