Existential Angst

Or... big words Shawn likes to use for no apparent reason. So the ladies of the house have all been asleep for the last hour, and I've just been killing time reading various blogs and articles on different philosophical concepts. I've come to two conclusions.

1) I'm an idiot.
2) People waste a lot of time blabbing on about the most idiotic things. (see conclusion #1)

Follow my logic on that one? Good. I'm basically mad at the world today, for no particular reason. Okay, maybe a few particular reasons here and there, but overall it all just adds up to a gigantic waste of emotion. Anger, the emotion I love to hate. That sounds like a great book title.

One thing I found very amusing, is reading a long, well thought out commentary on life, happiness, meaning and all the rest, where someone tries to use logic to counter depression. Only to have some one come along and say, "Brain chemistry can cause people to be depressed, and has nothing do to do with (insert any philosophical discussion on happiness here)"

Or as I like to call it, "Your argument is as pointless as (insert any philosophical discussion on the meaning of life)".

For a long time now, I've been pissed off at the things in life I can't control. Or more to the point, I've been silently pissed off about them. Why? Because, what's the point of getting mad about things you can't control? Leave it to Dilbert to get me thinking...


Somehow... in some strange way, the above Dilbert comic combined with reading bits and pieces of inane psychobabble from some stupid rich dude that wrote a book called "The 4-Hour Workweek", led me to one last conclusion:

Is the thing that is REALLY pissing me off the most, is that I'm just not smart enough to come up with an alternative to sitting in a cubical until I'm 62?

Pwned.