surely you’ve seen the youtube sensation, “henri, the existentialist cat” and the very clever “blog of jean-paul sartre” that are making the rounds. if you haven’t i encourage you to indulge (not that it will make a difference in your pitiful existence.)
but when i was reading camus, sartre, genet (that criminal, marxist revolutionary homosexual) et al. in high school, it was a revelation that a soul could be so disengaged from the world around them. that even love, or even more importantly, love was a desperate attempt at forming a bond with another human being when the end would always be the same, death. and when you died there was nothing else, just worms and decay. no heaven, no hell, no hope, no redemption (but lots of cigarettes dangling from lips, dark glasses even at night, trench coats with collars up, a blond–most likely catherine deneuve–and the steam from a locomotive as it pulls out of the gare st. lazare or so i imagined.) as you can probably tell i am not seduced by the philosophy of existentialism because i require more from life. the grand gesture is not part of the vocabulary of mes amis the existentialists.