Q: Hello, Conan. Do you have a few moments for a follow-up satisfaction survey?
A: I suppose. Will it take long?
Q: Perhaps. It depends on you, the respondent. Would you like to do this later?
A: I am sitting in between the distant booms of intercepted missiles. Might not be a later. What is your first question?
Q: Are you satisfied with your existence?
A: What does it mean to be satisfied: Like completing a crossword puzzle satisfied? Like the riff in the Rolling Stones satisfaction? Or, like the aha! moment at the end of Socratic inquiry?
Q: Let me clarify, I mean the (w)hole of existence. Do you feel that yours is sufficiently filled?
A: First—pause. Second—how big of a hole? Are we talking a mouse hole, donut hole, sinkhole, or black hole? The hole of cultural knowledge after Caesar’s troops burned down the Library of Alexandria? Or, the hole in your heart after you flew downstate to see the girl you had been corresponding with all summer, writing letters by hand and waiting a week for the post office to deliver your response, only to have her blow you off and ignore you the entire time?
Q: Apologies. I didn’t mean to provoke you with the question. Do you need a moment?
A: No…I’m good. Sho ga nai! Nothing can be done. Can you clarify what type of hole?
Q: An indeterminate hole, like a quantum particle. Measurement determines the size. Are you able to conceptualize this?
A: Yes, I suppose. What fills this hole?
Q: That is decided by the individual—whatever provides meaning to them. What gives you meaning?
A: I am not sure. That is too broad. Can you give me examples?
Q: Do you enjoy doing things—like the ache of ascending Machu Picchu’s stone stairs after a four-day Salkantay Trek? Or, do you enjoy thinking about things—like mulling over dichotomy paradoxes for a six-page philosophy paper, splitting distances until a migraine splits your temple?
A: I don’t like when questions are framed as binaries. Are there other options?
Q: Yes, but you have to discover these options. What have you discovered?
A: Not sure…as the adage goes, there is nothing new under the sun. Can you move to the next question?
Q: Absolutely. Maybe try answering this: What do you spend your time thinking about the most—the past, present, or future?
A: Can I be like a quantum particle?
Q: Not quite. You are a four dimensional being. Can we remain within the human framework?
A: Yes, so time is linear for me, correct?
Q: For your purposes, yes. Now, what is your answer?
A: I suppose I am content at the moment. More past behind me than future before me; but that’s OK. I am in a good place, but it’s like standing up in a canoe on a Class II river, feeling the cold splash against your calves. You understand the simile?
Q: I understand. Still, you can express it as a metaphor, can you not?
A: The aggregate of my life’s experiences is currently a stable murmuration of wings beating—dodging unhappiness and evading the interceptor missiles of existential dread. Acceptable?
Q: Acceptable. For now, the survey is complete. When should we return to this?
A: Do I have to set a specific time?
Q: Not necessarily. These conversations tend to recur on their own, particularly with age or under conditions of uncertainty. That is the nature of endophasia.[i] Does that seem reasonable?
A: We’ll see what happens, won’t we?
[i] Speech that is not audible or visible: implicit speech
Photo by Jake Nackos on Unsplash
opusculum 