"What's the big deal about Žižek, isn't he just some internet philosophy celebrity?" Q lies in the air-conditioned dorm bed, scrolling through his videos.
"Ah Q, could you just stop playing video games and have some preparations for the test of tomorrow?"
His roommate, Bear, kindly advises. This top student is from the Department of Modern Philosophy at West Fabulas University and had just secured the first place in the entire faculty for three consecutive semesters. he was about to publish a book:
"And you don't understand Žižek at all. Q, you are the one from Classical Philosophy Department, please just stop your casual judgement."
"Dude, it's because I always think what we have learned is useless. Besides, is our philosophy department better than Latin Literature department? Just a bunch of losers with some stupid big dreams. "
"You're talking about employment again." Bear sits at his desk diagonally opposite, still reading Schopenhauer's "The Wisdom of Life". Like Q, he is a pessimist in nature, but even though he feels life is meaningless. He still studies hard.
And Q says with signs:
"You have a rich family, running a pharmaceutical factory, selling anti-cancer drugs. A dose sells for one thousand dollars, and the state reimburses one thousand and nine..."
"How's your grandfather's health lately?"
"Oh...thanks to your father's kindness to give him the medicine. He feels good these days."
When it is time for class, Bear heard that their postmodern philosophy theory class had attracted quite a few pretty girls. Q and Bear had already in conspiracies to go check out together. Now Bear has been waiting for a pretty long time, and until now Q still has not gotten dressed.
"Alright, just lie there and listen to my good news." Bear says,Â
"Fine, I'll take a nap, don't forget to tell me the good news."Â
Q closes his eyes. Usually, it was hard for Q to fall asleep. It is not late night, and yet the sleepiness is so tense. Slowly, he finds his breathing becoming cold. He struggles to wake up, but the deeper he sinks into the darkness, the more he fails.
Finally, he gets to the bottom of the darkness. Then an old man with glasses comes from behind the scenes, and with a smirk. He declares:
"Welcome Young man! You're dead."
"What?!"
The philosopher is not astonished at all, but instead scratches his head and patiently tries to strike up a conversation with him.
He snaps his fingers, and the originally empty space suddenly becomes bright, and the ground turned into blue waves without nuclear radiation, from which two chairs emerge.
Q looks around but could not find a green exit. He slaps himself and it does hurt, but there was no signal of waking up. It's the time to feel panic.
"Oh J, I'm dead?"
The old man sits down first, and takes out a large pipe from his pocket, quietly watches him go crazy:
"My name is Sartre. Friedrich was originally responsible for the handover with you."
"Friedrich? Nietzsche??? Are you Sartre??? What do you want from me?"
"I'm asking you to sit down. Look at you... so rash."
"I don't want to see you; I want to see Camus! I'm Algerian, my name is Sisyphus."
Now Sartre somewhat understands why the higher-up had Nietzsche to connect with him. This kid is really not light in his illness. He thinks, is it that those who operate in their undertaking are all like this, or has this kid not been here long enough.
"You have a chance to come back to life." Sartre shrugged, "The space you are in now is 'the void' or we philosophers call it 'Bureau'. It is the territory of a goddess. If you fall into the hands of other demiurges, there is absolutely no chance for you to come back to life."
Sartre sighs and looks into the depths of this void space— invisible abyss is the most horrible thing in the world.Â
"Their knights need to travel to the future... In short, that's another story."
Q calms down a little bit, sits on the chair and begins to feel sad because his grandfather's illness still needs someone for help, and he cannot die yet. Moreover, the person in front of him is exactly the same as the picture in the textbook, Sartre, it couldn't be more real.Â
"Why can you speak English? Is Nietzsche's mental illness cured?"
"I ask you, young fellow what is the biggest problem in philosophy?"
"There's no problem, it's très bien (French: very good)." Q is a little bit intimidated when he meets the great philosopher himself, and the nature of troll was exposed.
"It's impossible. If there's no problem, you wouldn't be here." Sartre's eyes become serious, "You have already understood part of the mystery of nihil, and only then can you enter this hall."
Upon hearing "enter the hall", a feeling of burglary suddenly arises in Q's heart. He feels that he is quite a bad guy sometimes, and he never respects Bear, but this honest roommate always treats him for meals, invites him to the parties, and spends all night in the bar with him, boozing and laughing.
But Q hates his poor family. Even he was admitted to the university, he still had no money to buy a laptop.
At the opening ceremony, everyone attended the dinner in suits, but he could only wear a T-shirt and daze in the empty cafeteria.
"Maybe it's because I'm poor, and what I'm learning is nothing."
"You are already yourself; you are everything." Sartre said so.
"Come on, you old people just like to give these nonsense inspirational sayings."
"Camus, someone needs your points! Hahaha." Sartre shouted towards the back of the stage with a bit of teasing,
"Get out!!" Algerian French rolled out from behind the stage—
But Sartre suddenly stood up, clapped his hands, as if he had said enough, like a doctor who had finished the diagnosis.
"Now, young man, I ask you to go back to ancient Greece, to eliminate the entire Western philosophy from its origin. Let this building collapse."
"Collapse!!!!" The Prussian German behind the stage shouts.
"Collapse...? But I... I'm just an internet troll."
"You have the ability of that goddess who has causes all the disputes in history: rebellion, meaninglessness, negation. These are the most severe, the most feared tools."
"This goddess is..."
"She—" Sartre's voice was replaced by a resentful female voice, "She is hatred, she is denial, she is the East; she is colonized, oppressed, she is the eight-hour work system that can never be obtained, she is a slave, poverty, a woman, the weak, the disabled, the foolish, the disgusting one. She is pain, tear, and helplessness. She is kindness."
"Isn't that...?"
But before he could finish his words, space has already begun to distort, and he couldn't catch his breath, as if walking on the street during a typhoon.
This small void space is experiencing violent changes of days and nights, and Sartre seemed unaffected, waving goodbye like someone who had been through it.
Nietzsche pokes his head out and looked at what is happening on the stage with appreciation, but was driven back by Mrs. Schopenhauer, the poodle dog, who came from nowhere.
He is still twitching here, Kierkegaard, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Sartre, Heidegger, and Fichte all came out from behind the scenes together.
Except for Schopenhauer, who takes out a handkerchief to cover his breath, the other old men seem to be blessing him with the most cordial words for success.
Finally, the last sentence he says before losing consciousness is:
"Damn, I just arrive here for 3 minutes."