Summary
The real path to wisdom (especially if by "wis" you mean "freaking out" and by "dom," you mean "squares") lies in making short, condescending and indefensible statements that discourage conversation, leaving you as the clear victor.
Next time you're sitting with your boombox in front of the mall, pop the classics into your deck-the classical classics. Start with something dissonant and urgent, like Igor Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. From there, move to a grand, throbbing eruption like Richard Strauss's Also Spracht Zarathustra (aka, the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey). End your program with a clamorous chase-tune like Edvard Grieg's "In the Hall of the Mountain King" from Peer Gynt. When any squares within a block radius hear the tunes and realize how un-urgent, un-grand and not-worth-chasing their own lives are in comparison ... freak-out achieved.Does that sound fun? It shouldn't. Stay sober next weekend for long enough to listen to a single conversation between your loaded friends, and you'll immediately realize that they're squarer than Amish waffles. But what is fun is using your well-honed freak-faculty to take advantage of that subtle interplay of squarifying elements. Bring your arsenal of Grieg and Cicero to a local intoxication station, and you will either be worshiped as a god or thrown through the front window, western-movie style. Either way, that's some mighty fine freaking. And when someone asks the next morning, "Damn ... what were you on last night?" the appropriate course of action is to smugly reply, "What ever do you mean?"See the full content of this document
Extract
Get Absurd
"At any streetcomer the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face. "
When Albert Camus wrote those words in his essay "The Myth of Sisyphus," he wasn't referring to all those political campaign signs that have sprung up at the intersection of 14th and Idaho Street. He was referring to the big stuff: The grand, impenetrable indifference of the universe to your individual struggle; the times when the stench of the question "why?" just won't dissipate; the realization...See the full content of this document
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