The Meaning of Life

The Meaning of Life

We are, I hope, all intelligent adults here. It’s not all bodily functions and swearing, and to prove it, I hope to lead a discussion on that deepest of philosophical questions: “What is the Meaning of Life?”

The great philosopher B. Forsyth tells us: “Life: It's the name of the game.” But is it?

Now, I know, without the threat of extreme genital torture, some clever bastard’s going to pop up and say “Ha ha – it’s 42, isn’t it? Ha ha – just like in the book with the depressed robot and the fella with the dressing gown. AND they got the question wrong. Ha. I preferred the film version.”

This is not the Meaning of Life, people, and I vow extreme genital torture on anyone who suggests otherwise.

So, where were we? Yes – complex philosophical, theological and existential discussion on how – and why- we are here on this insignificant planet in a brain-meltingly large universe. It is a question that has defeated the greatest minds our civilizations have produced, and to put and end to all this waste of brain cells, we’re not going to leave today until we’ve got an answer.

After years of personal research, I have come up with two suggestions to lead this discussion off.

Firstly, the words of the great American thinker and dead president Abraham Lincoln, at his last personal appearance in San Dimas, California: “Be most excellent to each other, and party on dudes!”

Deep, meaningful words from a great, great lover of the theatre, I’m sure you’ll agree, and a fine way to live your life.

However, regular Scaryduck reader Ricardipus reminds us there are more important things in life than slacking off and partying: “When the going gets tough, the tough play bongos.”

Bongo playing – an allegory for the human condition, combining anarchy with the self-discipline of rhythm and getting away with the easy option for as long as possible. That’s a bit more like it, but still lacks an all-embracing definition for the complex reasoning behind our very existence.

Then, examining unpublished notebooks from the current Lucasian professor of mathematics at Cambridge University, we found a page dismissing the works of Albert Einstein as a “nebulous fiction” with the following words written in a shaking hand in the margin:

“THE MEANING OF LIFE: There is one simple step to nirvana. Masturbate as much as you can in one month, then try to beat that figure,” followed by “167!!! Beat THAT Newton!!!”, circled three times.

Stephen Hawking: we salute you. No wonder you’re always smiling.

As the web is as close as we're ever going to get to the infinite monkeys thing (present company excepted, of course), the answer must be on these internets somewhere.

Other suggestions I have already received, hawking my theories round the Think Tanks of Europe:

* “Sticking my willy in things whilst drunk.”
* “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.” (I like this one).
* Pot as many balls as you can” (From the ‘Big Break’ school of thinking. Unfortunately these theories have been thoroughly discredited, as any form of life that revolves around the involvement of Jim Davidson is, frankly, not worth living.

Meaning of Life. Any ideas? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

“I am so excited by this, I cannot wash.”