I am sitting here in Salamanca (lovely, go if you can) just a few steps over from the home of Miguel de Unamuno, the great philosopher. His “tragic sense of life” is apt, now as always.
It can be summarized, I suppose, as “suck it up, buttercup”. In a philosophically rationalist but-not-quite form of course.
Given that, they just brought me a very second rate sidra, emphasizing that tragic business.
“Suck it up buttercup”. That’s it?
That’s all you have for me? I’m buried in BS and you send me another truckload of Confucius Confusion.
If only you had said, “Life is a banana.” I might have seen the hidden wisdom. Instead I think a truck caravan is already on the road.