FA+
Shop
A day in the life of a Tohri.
15 years ago
Tohri is busily taking items off the shelves of the Cumberland Farms convienience store where he works, wiping the invisable dust off the shelves, and putting the items back on.
The Nihilist speaks.
"The advertizing on these products never ceases to astound. "Better taste!", "New and improved!", "More active ingredient!", "A whole serving of vegetables!" That last one is a can of Chef boyardee Beefaroni."
The Objectivist appears, and both watch for a while as Tohri gets to the dried pasta and checks the dates. The spaghetti expires two years and four months from tomorrow.
The Objectivist speaks.
"People expect to be told by the product they are buying that they made a good choice buying it. Never mind the can of beefaroni they bought on the basis of the proclaimation that it's as good as a fresh carrot or two has two tablespoons of salt in it, and as much fat as a couple of pop tarts."
The Nihilist considers for a moment as Tohri steps aside to let a customer grab a roll of toilet paper. The toilet paper costs more than an average day's wage in 34 countries.
"P. T. Barnum said it best. Clearly people are the problem, present company included. There's no saving the unwilling, no helping the suicidal. I motion to cut to the chase and build a doomsday device. Has tristan's girlfriend gotten her Viropathology degree yet?"
The Objectivist takes his time pondering this broad statement.
"I for one don't feel like destroying the world simply because that's where I keep all my stuff. Stuff is important, it makes us feel like our lives have meaning. So I suppose we could ask Kelly if she feels like slapping together a mutant strain of toenail fungus to kill everybody."
The Nihilist grins, a blue moon occassion.
"Never see it coming, a killer toenail fungus. Less credable than global warming causing an ice age. It'd take everyone by surprise. Have to start it in Englant, everyone expects rampant diseases to come from the third world. The british would be an ideal incubator."
The objectivist raises his hand, as Tohri moves off to answer the new girl's questions about the lottery machine.
"Seconded, motion passed. How can anyone ever get anything done with such polarized voices like 'good' and 'Evil' making their decisions for them? I should put the blame on modern politics, Though we seem to get by just fine with a two party system. Next order of business is... Hm.. Exestential quandries in the field of compulsive gamblers. Oh, this should be fun."
The nihilist snorts.
"No, it won't."
The objectivist frowns.
"So Sorry, I forgot You don't believe in fun."
The Nihilist speaks.
"The advertizing on these products never ceases to astound. "Better taste!", "New and improved!", "More active ingredient!", "A whole serving of vegetables!" That last one is a can of Chef boyardee Beefaroni."
The Objectivist appears, and both watch for a while as Tohri gets to the dried pasta and checks the dates. The spaghetti expires two years and four months from tomorrow.
The Objectivist speaks.
"People expect to be told by the product they are buying that they made a good choice buying it. Never mind the can of beefaroni they bought on the basis of the proclaimation that it's as good as a fresh carrot or two has two tablespoons of salt in it, and as much fat as a couple of pop tarts."
The Nihilist considers for a moment as Tohri steps aside to let a customer grab a roll of toilet paper. The toilet paper costs more than an average day's wage in 34 countries.
"P. T. Barnum said it best. Clearly people are the problem, present company included. There's no saving the unwilling, no helping the suicidal. I motion to cut to the chase and build a doomsday device. Has tristan's girlfriend gotten her Viropathology degree yet?"
The Objectivist takes his time pondering this broad statement.
"I for one don't feel like destroying the world simply because that's where I keep all my stuff. Stuff is important, it makes us feel like our lives have meaning. So I suppose we could ask Kelly if she feels like slapping together a mutant strain of toenail fungus to kill everybody."
The Nihilist grins, a blue moon occassion.
"Never see it coming, a killer toenail fungus. Less credable than global warming causing an ice age. It'd take everyone by surprise. Have to start it in Englant, everyone expects rampant diseases to come from the third world. The british would be an ideal incubator."
The objectivist raises his hand, as Tohri moves off to answer the new girl's questions about the lottery machine.
"Seconded, motion passed. How can anyone ever get anything done with such polarized voices like 'good' and 'Evil' making their decisions for them? I should put the blame on modern politics, Though we seem to get by just fine with a two party system. Next order of business is... Hm.. Exestential quandries in the field of compulsive gamblers. Oh, this should be fun."
The nihilist snorts.
"No, it won't."
The objectivist frowns.
"So Sorry, I forgot You don't believe in fun."
And a bit depressing 8|