Snarkattack

I once met a not-so-nice fellow who told me that it was not the intention of philosophy to console. This didn’t seem right to me, though I’m not a philosophy expert (cut me some slack. I did some cultural theory at uni. Or rather, it did me) but isn’t the point of everything in life to console??? What else am I getting up every morning for?

I admit this whole embracing life thing and casting off my suicidal ways is still in its infancy, but I’m not budging on this. Thought, art, entertainment, money - everything exists, in my view, to make you momentarily forget that you not close to death. What could be more beautiful, more serene, than stillness, and non-existence? Don’t say downers - they wear off and overdosing on them is not as much fun as it might sound.

Anyway, philosophy and consolation. Why did I assume it was the brief of one to achieve the other. Aside from my slightly pessimistic view above (I’m a real hoot when I’m depressed, I can tell you), it was because I’d read a book by Alain de Botton called The Consolations of Philosophy. I did indeed find parts of it consoling, and others not so. I read the book voraciously because it was so damn enjoyable. A classical philosopher, Boethius, also had a philosophical tract bearing the same name. So I assumed, that philosophy, or some aspects of it, were to soothe those concerned with the problem known as existing. After all, it’s not a choice, is it?

Against my better judgement, I proceeded to see this pretentious fellow who enjoyed putting down people like myself. Eventually, I was dumped, via e-mail, and as he was apparently not able to come up with words to express his reasons, he instead gave me a mini-lecture on Theodor Adorno. Classy. It would have been hilarious, if it didn’t make me look like such a loser.