Изглежда никой не знае защо хората съществуват - каква е целта на всяко едно тяхно действие, поради каква причина са се появили, каква функция изпълняват. Може би дори не съществува отговор на тези въпроси - ако хората са резултат от някакво случайно явление, някакъв каприз на природата. Това важи и за другите живи същества, въпреки че те дори не могат да си зададат въпроса, защото не притежават съзнанието за да го направят. Логично е да се предположи, че има и други въпроси като този, които ние дори не можем да се сетим да зададен - още по-малко да им отговорим. Накратко казано, не знаем нищо.
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Once upon a time in a town far north there was a deaf swordsman called Jack. Despite his handicapped body the technique of his sword was awesome. Nobody who dared to oppose him lived for more than a second.

Мany begged him to accept an apprentice so that the secrets of his martial art would be preserved for the generations yet to come. But all they were able to get from him were a few sentences on a scrap of paper. “My blade sings the scariest song you can imagine”, he wrote. “It sings about the ashes of love, the phantoms of happiness that dwell in my sword. It sings and I dance and there is nothing more to it.”

Then, puzzled by this strange response, the people wrote back: “Yes, but how can we learn to hear this song ? What is the first step to take ? ” To their greatest annoyance the response was even more cryptic:

“The first step to take is to die. Living souls can’t swing the blade of resignation.”

Discouraged by his riddles the people were coming less and less often to the seek the advice and instruction of Jack. The day he passed away his art was lost forever. But the name of the master was not forgotten. For centuries to come extremely skilful swordsmen were nicknamed Jack Deadly.

Once upon a time there was a life, one that was meaningful and there was another, one that was meaningless. In fact they were two people having these names, Meaningful and Meaningless. The two of them didn't get along very well, they were having a hard time finding common topics of conversation. Nonetheless, they did talk from time to time because they were the only people living on an Island.

One cloudy morning just when the rain was about to find courage and start pouring form the sky, Meaningful felt the need for some idle chat. He approached the part of the Island where Meaningless used to live.
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