Monday, August 22, 2016

Philosophy, Alcohol and drugs

It's desperately quiet over at the Smack Crack and Cocaine Emporium. There are no comings and goings. Lurch the financial adviser has no one to advise right now. The supply chain has been cut off for the moment after last weeks police raids. The poor lambs don't know what to do with themselves. No drugs to sell. My man saunters past on his way to the Offy. Actually it's the corner shop, I just call it the offy. He's smiling. he has no problem. he just goes and gets his bag full of super strength lager and he's happy
I ask him why he drinks that stuff. he looks at me as if I'm stupid, "why do you breath? It's lager innit. It does the job."
"What job? What job do you want it to do?" I'm being deliberately obtuse.
"Are you for real?"  for the first time my man looks angry with me, he doesn't want to admit he needs the drink. "At least I don't do drugs." he swerves. He does, but I let that one slide. He will use what ever he gets his hands on. But alcohol is his drug of choice. Except to him it's not a drug.
"I can't drink that stuff. " I say, "It's far too strong.  Even Ice cold it's too strong to drink."
"You get used to it. Drink enough of it and it doesn't matter anymore."
"Does anything matter?"
"That's very Nihilistic have you been reading Fichte or Kant recently?"


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