The purpose of life.
This could displace “42” as the answer to the “ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything.”
Beautiful prose. I needed this.
This is a really clever piece of writing, and reminds me of when my MacBook’s battery died and I had to take it to an Apple Store to get repaired. They held it hostage for about week and I discovered that I was completely helpless and cut adrift without it. I couldn’t even work, since all my work was mediated by my laptop.
“And there’s a deliciousness in knowing that our batteries are the excrement of supernovas…” What a great line. But then aren’t we star dust ourselves? And after human triumphs like the Parthenon, Michelangelo’s David, and even mapping the genome, we have devolved into algorithmic addicts transfixed by our blinking devices. Books, those archaic vessels of escape, wisdom, and knowledge, don’t require lithium or an outlet, just an open mind and a free afternoon. Somehow those old empty library desks seemed more inviting when they held books instead of charging stations. Enjoy the break, Charles, and we’ll await your return.