by Andrew M. Kasper
Originally written for Matt Salmela
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Public Domain License.
LEON: Homework problems? Psh. You have nothing to worry about; God made this place too goddamn big. Today, I was learning about tying knots and stuff -- you know, for when you’re sailing -- and I started thinking, “What the hell does this matter?” I mean, how important can something be? Then, I started thinking about what the most important thing ever would be: the end of mankind, probably. The end of the world. Like, if a bunch of bombs went off and everyone died. Or if the earth got cracked into a billion pieces by an asteroid. Hey, that’s not even one piece for every person who would be killed. Holy hell. And even if that were the case, even if it were the end of humanity, so what? People have only been around for a few seconds on the clock of All Time. And that’s assuming that even the most conservative estimates of how old the universe is are even close to true. I mean, life has only even been around for a few minutes, unless it started up earlier on some other planet, in which case, maybe a few more minutes than we thought. As far as we know, though, only a few minutes. If we all died, what would it matter? It would just be one of nine known planets near one of millions of known stars in one of billions of galaxies in the hugest place ever. How meaningless would it be to the universe -- to God, the only being who really matters -- if we all died? It would be like Ted Turner dropping a penny. Not even that. It wouldn’t even register as a fart, cosmically. What I’m saying is, cosmically, no one gives a good goddamn about you or your homework, and it doesn’t pay to worry about it.