Nietzsche's Niche V
Dear Nietzsche,
I think I don’t exist…?
Anonymous
Dear “Anonymous”,
Good. In all likeliness, neither you nor I have any true “existence”. You have begun a greater journey towards an enlightenment in the darkness of the void. Truly, I commend you.
Dear Nietzsche,
It is time for me to start finding a college, but I have no idea where to go. My parents want me to go to the community college even though I want to go out of state. What do you think I should do?
Polly
Dear Polly,
I am so glad that you have taken the time to reach out to me. The previous is a statement which is false, because I have no capacity to care about your situation. You are unsure about schools, which I assume is natural. I frankly would not know, as I have not been your age in quite some time. Back in my day, we went to school for learning, not for the sake of attending a school! You say you want to go out of state, to which I can reply that this course is generally favorable, yet I get the sense that this move would be meaningless, as it would be for the sake of pointless education in worldly affairs, or something of the like.
Why waste your time on knowledge of that which is so irrelevant in the larger scheme of the universe? Instead, you should devote yourself to inner study, to independent intellectual betterment, not beholden to whatever notion of “learning” you may have.
True learning comes not from the textbooks of the greedy, but rather from the struggles of the empty.
Dear Nietzsche,
Do you know any good jokes?
Heinrich
Dear Heinrich,
To start with, I appreciate your name. It is so infrequently that I am able to address a fellow with a name as regal and distinctly German as mine. With regards to your question, I must admit that you have disappointed me. The idea that one should have a sense of humor about anything--besides perhaps the irrelevance of humor--is quite absurd.
Even so, I feel that I must indulge your pathetic request, as I have become aware of rumors that I am somehow incapable of wit. I will have my readers know, I am exceptionally witty. Not that it is of any consequence to me, but I trust that your sides with be veritably busted:
“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“To experience the rush of taking their lives fully within their claws as they skirt along the endlessly hungering maw of the Void, and in doing so, defy the idea of an omnipotent God and His predestination.”