The universe is a few simple physical laws overlayed on a fractal, chaotic and random substrate. We are the part of the universe that creates meaning, as well as subtlety, consciousness, intelligence and humor, because those things do not exist until we make them happen. Without us, they would be totally absent from the cosmos and it would be a truly sterile place.

Humor is especially important, because it is the human recognition of the essential pointlessness of reality, its inherent absurdity, and how we have transcended that and made it matter. In fact, we have made that intrinsic random chaos interesting. Without us, there would only be atoms and the void. Without us, the Book of Nature would be written in invisible ink, in a dead language no one could read.

I know you understand this, Bowser, because you have clearly seen (and commented often!) on the utter desolation and tragedy of those who cannot.

He went to town once a month, and that was it. No conversations, no friends, just delightful privacy.

About 6 months into this a very large, coarse, bearded guy beat on his door. He answered.

“Hello. You’ve lived here long enough, I thought I’d invite you to a neighborhood party this Saturday.”

Guy thought a moment, figured it was about time to get acquainted. “Sure, I’d love to.”

“Gotta warn you. Might be some drinkin’. Might be some drugs.”

“That’s OK, I can hold my own.”

“OK, good. Might be some fightin’. And some sex.”

“Sounds good. What shall I wear?”

“Don’t matter. Jes goin’ to be the two of us.”

(My back is starting to hurt. I’m through praying. You are at the tender mercies of Southern Baptists. Google “Jimmy Swaggart” to see how to handle them.”

Tommy Chong: “Man, my father was Chinese.”

Cheech: “Far out, man, what was your mother?”

Chong: “She was a waitress.”

Sincerely,

Bowser (I’m on my knees now, and will be here a while.)