The Great Cosmic Carousel: Why Your To-Do List is a Joke

Welcome to another day on this spinning wet rock. If you’re reading this, congratulations. You’ve successfully navigated the high-stakes gauntlet of “waking up” just to participate in a society that is essentially a giant, loud, neon-lit waiting room for the inevitable.

As Rust Cohle might say while making a beer-can mannikin: “Time is a flat circle.” And honestly? That circle is looking more like a hula hoop we’re all failing to keep up.

The Absurdity Buffet

Modern life is a peculiar brand of madness. We’ve managed to automate everything except the existential dread. Here’s a quick look at the nonsense we’ve agreed to pretend is normal:

The Inbox Purgatory: We spend eight hours a day sending digital ghosts (emails) to people we don’t like, about problems that won’t matter in six months, to earn paper that only has value because we all collectively decided not to laugh at it.
The Screen Worship: We stare at a black mirror in our pockets to see what people we haven’t spoken to since 2012 had for lunch. We are the first species to document our own extinction in 4K resolution with a “vintage” filter.
The Health Hustle: We go to the gym to run on a belt that goes nowhere, just so we can live three years longer in a nursing home where no one remembers our names. It’s peak efficiency.

Sentience: The Evolutionary Oopsie

We are biological accidents with just enough consciousness to realize we shouldn’t exist, but not enough to do anything cool about it, like fly or breathe underwater. Instead, we use our “higher intelligence” to argue with strangers about politics on a Tuesday afternoon.

“I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware.” — The vibe every time your Wi-Fi drops.

We’ve built a world where the most stressful part of our day is choosing a streaming service to watch while we eat a microwave burrito. We are giants of intellect, weeping because our phone charger is too short.

Why Bother? (The Good Part)

If everything is meaningless and we’re just meat-puppets dancing to the tune of our DNA, there’s actually some good news: You can stop trying so hard.

If the universe is a vast, uncaring void, then that “embarrassing” thing you said in a meeting three years ago doesn’t exist. Your credit score is a fictional story. The pressure to “find your purpose” is just marketing.

We’re all just walking each other home in the dark. We might as well crack a joke while we stumble.

The 90s Anime That Predicted Your Doomscrolling: Why You Need to Watch Serial Experiments Lain

Have you ever stared at your phone at 2 AM, blue light burning your retinas, wondering if the “you” on the internet is the real you?

If yes, congratulations! You are living through the plot of Serial Experiments Lain.

Released in 1998—back when the internet was mostly just chat rooms and slow-loading pictures of cats—this anime didn’t just tell a story. It looked into a crystal ball, saw our modern obsession with social media, memes, and digital identity, and said, “Hold my juice box.”

It is weird. It is confusing. And it is arguably the most important anime ever made about the digital age. Here is why this 25-year-old show is more relevant today than ever.

Wait, What is it About?

Okay, explaining the plot of Lain is like trying to explain the flavor of water. But here is the simple version:

Lain Iwakura is a quiet, awkward middle school girl. Her life is boring until her classmate, Chisa, jumps off a roof. A week later, Lain gets an email from Chisa.

The email says: “I have only abandoned my physical body… God is here.”

Lain gets curious, upgrades her computer (called a “Navi”), and dives into “The Wired” (the internet). As she spends more time online, the barrier between the real world and the digital world starts to break. People see Lain in places she hasn’t been. She develops different personalities. Reality starts glitching like a bad video game driver.

Why It’s Still Mind-Blowing Today

You might think a show featuring clunky CRT monitors and dial-up sounds would feel dated. But the themes? They are terrifyingly fresh.

1. The Internet Isn’t Just a Tool; It’s a Place

In the 90s, the internet was something you “visited” for an hour before your mom needed the phone line. Lain predicted a world where we never log off.

In the show, the “Wired” bleeds into the real world. Today, we have Augmented Reality, the Metaverse, and people walking into traffic because they’re looking at TikTok. Lain understood that eventually, there would be no difference between “online” and “offline.” We live in the Wired now.

2. The “You” Online vs. The Real “You”

Lain develops a split personality. There is the shy, quiet Lain in the real world, and the bold, terrifyingly powerful “Lain of the Wired.”

Does that sound familiar?

Real Life: You are too shy to ask for extra ketchup at McDonald’s.
Twitter/X: You are a fierce political commentator fighting strangers at 3 AM.

Lain asks the big question: Which one is the real you? Is it the physical body, or the data floating in the cloud? If everyone knows the “online” you, does the “offline” you even matter?

3. The Loneliness of Connection

There is a recurring haunting phrase in the show:

“No matter where you are, everyone is always connected.”

It sounds nice, right? No! It’s actually a horror story. The show depicts a world where privacy is dead and everyone is mentally linked, yet the characters feel more isolated than ever. It perfectly captures that specific modern sadness of having 5,000 followers but nobody to eat lunch with.

Is It Hard to Watch?

I’m not going to lie to you—yes.

Serial Experiments Lain is an “avant-garde” show. That is a fancy way of saying “you will spend 50% of the time staring at the screen asking ‘What is happening?’“

There are long silences. There are shots of power lines buzzing for no reason. There is a guy in a suit with laser goggles. It is a mood piece. It’s less about understanding the plot perfectly and more about the vibes. It feels like a fever dream you had after scrolling Instagram for six hours straight.

The Verdict

You should watch Serial Experiments Lain not just because it’s a classic, but because it is a warning we ignored.

It predicted that we would upload our memories to the cloud. It predicted that rumors online could change reality. It predicted that we would all worship the glowing rectangles in our hands.

Plus, the opening song (“Duvet” by Bôa) is an absolute banger that will get stuck in your head for the next decade.

So, go watch it. Just remember: if you get an email from a dead classmate, maybe just delete it and go touch some grass.

We are the Cyborgs (And It’s Hilarious)

Remember those sci-fi movies where humanity was a drooling, helpless mess, utterly dependent on their glowing overlords? Yeah, about that… it seems we skipped the “glowing overlord” part and just went straight to the drooling, helpless mess.

We’ve all seen it. The person trying to unlock their front door with their car keys. The frantic thumb-tapping when the Wi-Fi goes down, as if the air itself has suddenly become unbreathable. The existential crisis that unfolds when you try to calculate a tip without the aid of a phone’s calculator. Suddenly, a simple 15% becomes a mind-bending, mathematical odyssey that would stump Isaac Newton himself.

Our brains have outsourced so much of their basic functionality to our devices that they’re starting to get a little… dusty. Why memorize a phone number when Siri has the entire global contact list on speed dial? Why navigate by instinct when Google Maps can tell you, in a calm, robotic voice, to turn left at the exact moment you’re about to walk into a lamppost? Our ability to remember, to orient ourselves, even to have a productive argument, has been slowly, joyfully surrendered to the tiny rectangles in our pockets.

It’s a peculiar kind of human evolution. We’ve gone from tool users to tool dependents. The smartphone is no longer an extension of our hand; it’s the prosthetic brain we can’t function without. Take it away, and a sudden, quiet panic sets in. It’s not just “nomophobia” (the fear of being without your phone, a term that is, ironically, probably only known because someone looked it up on their phone). It’s a deeper, more profound kind of helplessness.

The mind-bending part? We’re building this world ourselves. We crave the convenience, the instant gratification, the perfectly curated feeds. We’re the architects of our own technological reliance, meticulously crafting a future where our most complex problems can be solved with a simple search query, and our most profound thoughts can be distilled into a 280-character post.

So, next time you’re lost without a GPS, or you can’t remember your best friend’s birthday without a notification, don’t despair. Just laugh. We are the cyborgs we were warned about, but we’re the funny kind. The kind who would panic if the robot apocalypse came via a low battery warning. And honestly, isn’t that a little bit brilliant?

Welcome to the Cyberpunk City: Where the Future is Always on Fire

You’ve seen the movies. Neon skies, flying cars, everyone looking mysteriously cool in leather jackets at 3 AM. Living in a cyberpunk city sounds stylish until you actually live in one. Here, the reality is less “cool hacker with sunglasses” and more “I can’t afford rent because my left arm update is overdue.”

This is the future humanity ordered on express delivery, and it came with no return policy.

The Streets

Walking through the city is like scrolling through five different apps at once, but physically. Billboards don’t just shine—they scream. They know your favorite snack, your debt status, and the fact that you bought cheap knockoff cyberware last month. Giant neon signs flash EAT, DRINK, OBEY while you tiptoe around puddles of rainwater that suspiciously glow in the dark.

Everywhere you look, people are plugged into something: goggles, helmets, random wires hanging out of their heads. Old folks say things like, “Back in my day, we had conversations face-to-face.” Now, if someone makes eye contact with you, you assume they’re trying to hack your bank account.

The Buildings

Nothing in this city is designed for humans. It’s designed for corporations—giant towers stabbing into the polluted clouds like middle fingers to the people below. The rich live so high up that the air is actually breathable. The rest of us live in the shadows of those towers, in cramped apartments where the power goes out every other night, but the rent never does.

Elevators barely work, the staircases leak, and yet somehow there’s always a 200-foot screen blasting ads for “luxury brain implants you’ll never afford.”

The People

Everyone here has a “half-upgraded” look. One guy has top-tier robot arms but can’t afford to fix his teeth. Another has glowing cyber-eyes, but his shoes are held together with duct tape. That’s life here: a mix of high-tech and low-budget survival.

You talk to friends over encrypted chat while sitting across from them because—let’s be real—trust is dead. Even relationships are corporate-sponsored now. Want love? Just download it. There’s literally an app called Rent-a-Soulmate. Don’t ask how it works.

Law and Order (Ha, Good One)

There are no “police” here, only “security contractors.” Their job isn’t to protect you—it’s to protect whoever paid them. If your neighbor owes money to a megacorp, good luck. You’ll wake up to his entire apartment being repossessed, including the fridge, the bed, and possibly his cybernetic leg.

Justice here depends on your credit score. If you’re broke, you’re guilty—end of story. If you’re rich, congratulations, the law doesn’t even see you.

The Daily Struggle

Why do people stay here? Honestly—because leaving is worse. At least in the city, the Wi-Fi is decent, and you can still buy soy noodles at 4 AM. Sure, the air tastes like burnt plastic, and your boss tracks every heartbeat you take, but outside these walls? Desert wasteland. At least here, misery comes with neon lights.

We laugh about it because if you don’t laugh, you’ll start screaming. And once you start screaming, the corporate sound meters will fine you for “noise pollution.”

Final Thoughts from the Bottom Tier

Life in the cyberpunk city is dark, weird, and exhausting—but it’s ours. We have our neon lights, our glitchy street markets, our unreliable cyberware, and our community of broke, sarcastic survivors. We keep moving, paycheck to paycheck, software update to software update, waiting for the day we can afford an escape.

Until then: keep your head down, keep your implants charged, and try not to choke on the smog.

Because the future is here.

And the future sucks.

The Global Economic Divide: A Wake-Up Call

Here’s a mind-boggling thought: Some people have more money than they could spend in hundreds of lifetimes, while others struggle to find their next meal. Sounds crazy, right? Yet this is our world in 2025.

The Wealth Gap: More Than Just Numbers

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room – our current economic system. While capitalism has given us incredible innovations (hello, smartphones and space travel!), it’s also created a world where a tiny fraction of people control nearly half of all wealth. That’s not a typo. Half. Of. All. Wealth.

Think about this: Over 50% of our global neighbors live on less than what you might spend on a coffee run. We’re not talking about luxury items here – we’re talking about basic needs like food, healthcare, and education.

It’s Not Just About Money

But wait, there’s more (and not in a good way). Our economic choices are literally reshaping our planet:

Forests are vanishing faster than ever
Ocean ecosystems are on the brink
Global temperatures? Still climbing

And here’s the kicker: it’s not a simple story of good guys versus bad guys. It’s about systems we’ve built that consistently funnel wealth upward while leaving most people struggling to keep up. Corporate profits? Through the roof. Worker wages? Not so much.

The Tale of Two Childhoods

Picture this: Two kids born on the same day. One in a wealthy country, one in a poor region. Same world, completely different lives. The first gets access to great schools, healthcare, and endless opportunities. The second? They might spend their entire life just trying to survive.

Not because one worked harder. Not because one deserved it more. Simply because of where they were born.

But Here’s Why I’m Still Hopeful

Despite this grim picture, we’re not stuck. In fact, we’re at an exciting crossroads where we can reimagine how our economy works. We don’t need to throw out capitalism – we need to evolve it.

What would that look like?

Economic systems that value both profit AND people
Global cooperation (because no single country can fix this alone)
Sustainable technologies that help rather than harm our planet
Policies that work for everyone, not just the wealthy few

The Path Forward

The future of our global economy rests in our collective hands. Every economic decision we make – from our daily purchases to our investment choices – shapes the world we’ll leave for future generations. We aren’t mere observers in this economic narrative; we are its authors. The time has come to write a new chapter – one of equity, sustainability, and shared prosperity. Our actions today will echo through generations, and history will judge us not by our words, but by our willingness to transform this broken system into one that serves all of humanity.

Beyond the Wasteland: Ergo Proxy’s Deep Dive into Existentialism and Environmental Collapse

In the haunting landscape of Romdo, a seemingly perfect domed city rising above a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Ergo Proxy begins its intricate exploration of what it means to be human. This psychological cyberpunk masterpiece, created by Shuko Murase, weaves together existentialist philosophy, environmental cautionary tales, and dystopian themes into a dark tapestry that remains relevant nearly two decades after its release.

The Weight of Existence in an Artificial World

At its core, Ergo Proxy grapples with existentialist themes that would make Jean-Paul Sartre proud. The series follows Re-l Mayer, Vincent Law, and the android companion Pino as they navigate questions of identity, consciousness, and purpose. The presence of AutoReivs – humanoid robots designed to serve humanity – creates a perfect backdrop for examining what consciousness truly means. When these machines begin contracting the “Cogito Virus,” which grants them self-awareness, they face the same existential crisis that humans do: the burden of free will and the responsibility of creating meaning in an apparently meaningless universe.

The character of Vincent Law particularly embodies this existential journey. His discovery of his true identity as a Proxy forces him to confront the fundamental existentialist question: do we truly have an inherent purpose, or must we create our own meaning? His struggle mirrors Albert Camus’s concept of the absurd – the conflict between the human tendency to seek meaning in life and the inability to find any.

Environmental Collapse and Human Hubris

The series presents a chilling vision of environmental catastrophe that feels increasingly prophetic. The world of Ergo Proxy is one where humanity’s technological advancement and environmental disregard have led to catastrophic consequences. The domed cities represent humanity’s attempt to separate itself from nature, creating artificial environments where even the weather is controlled. This separation from the natural world serves as a stark metaphor for our own society’s growing disconnection from our environment.

The wasteland outside these domes tells the story of human hubris – a world made uninhabitable by our own actions. This environmental commentary isn’t merely backdrop; it’s integral to the series’ exploration of humanity’s relationship with existence itself. The show poses uncomfortable questions about whether humanity’s drive for progress and control over nature is fundamentally at odds with our own survival.

Dystopian Reflections

Romdo’s seemingly perfect society serves as a masterclass in dystopian storytelling. The city’s rigid social hierarchy, surveillance state, and control over its citizens’ lives echo classics like “1984” and “Brave New World,” but with a uniquely cyberpunk twist. The presence of AutoReivs adds another layer to this dystopian vision – raising questions about automation, artificial intelligence, and the nature of consciousness itself.

The series’ dystopian elements aren’t just window dressing; they’re deeply integrated into its philosophical exploration. The controlled environment of Romdo represents humanity’s attempt to create perfect order and meaning in a chaotic universe. Yet this artificial order comes at the cost of genuine human experience and growth – a trade-off that the series suggests might be destroying our very humanity.

The Legacy of Uncertainty

What makes Ergo Proxy particularly compelling is how it refuses to provide easy answers to the questions it raises. Like the best philosophical works, it understands that the journey of questioning is often more valuable than arriving at concrete conclusions. The series’ complex narrative structure, filled with unreliable memories and shifting identities, mirrors the uncertainty of human existence itself.

In our current era of environmental crisis, artificial intelligence advancement, and societal upheaval, Ergo Proxy’s themes resonate more strongly than ever. It reminds us that questions of existence, consciousness, and humanity’s place in the natural world aren’t just abstract philosophical concerns – they’re increasingly urgent practical matters that we must grapple with.

The series ultimately suggests that it’s in embracing uncertainty and questioning our assumptions that we might find not answers, but a way forward. In doing so, it stands as one of anime’s most thought-provoking explorations of what it means to be human in an increasingly artificial world.

Memory and Identity in the Digital Age

One of the series’ most fascinating explorations is its treatment of memory and identity in a world where both can be artificially constructed. Through characters like Re-l and Vincent, Ergo Proxy examines how memories shape our sense of self, and what happens when those memories can’t be trusted. This theme becomes particularly poignant in episodes that blur the line between reality and simulation, forcing viewers to question their own assumptions about consciousness and identity.

The series draws parallel to modern concerns about digital identity and the malleability of memory in an age of information manipulation. When memories can be implanted, altered, or erased, what remains of the authentic self? The show suggests that perhaps identity isn’t a fixed point but a continuous process of becoming – a notion that resonates deeply with contemporary philosophical discussions about consciousness and selfhood.

The Role of Gods in a Godless World

Ergo Proxy’s treatment of divinity and creation myths adds another layer to its philosophical depth. The Proxies themselves serve as God-like beings, created by humans to oversee humanity’s survival, yet ultimately bound by their own existential limitations. This circular relationship between creator and created raises profound questions about the nature of divinity and humanity’s eternal quest to play God.

The series cleverly subverts traditional religious narratives by presenting a world where gods are manufactured, yet still grapple with questions of purpose and meaning. This exploration of artificial divinity serves as a metaphor for humanity’s attempts to fill the void left by the “death of God” that Nietzsche famously proclaimed, while simultaneously warning about the dangers of trying to assume the role of creator ourselves.

The Series’ Enduring Influence

Years after its initial release, Ergo Proxy continues to influence discussions about consciousness, identity, and humanity’s relationship with technology. Its complex narrative and philosophical depth reward repeated viewings, each return revealing new layers of meaning and interpretation. In an era where discussions about artificial intelligence, environmental responsibility, and the nature of consciousness have moved from science fiction to daily headlines, Ergo Proxy’s thoughtful exploration of these themes feels more relevant than ever.

Embracing the Absurd: Camus, “The Stranger,” and the Art of Living Without Meaning

Have you ever felt like you’re going through the motions of life, searching for a purpose that always seems just out of reach? If so, you’re not alone. In fact, you’ve stumbled upon one of the core questions of human existence—one that the philosophy of absurdism tackles head-on.

What is Absurdism?

Absurdism is a philosophical stance that suggests the human tendency to seek inherent meaning in life will ultimately fail because no such meaning exists. Sounds bleak, right? But hold on—there’s more to it than that.

This philosophy, popularized by French-Algerian philosopher Albert Camus in the mid-20th century, doesn’t stop at pointing out life’s meaninglessness. Instead, it challenges us to embrace this absurdity and find freedom in it.

Enter “The Stranger.”

To really get a grip on absurdism, there’s no better place to start than Camus’ novel “The Stranger” (L’Étranger in French). Published in 1942, this book remains a cornerstone of absurdist literature and a fascinating exploration of what it means to live without prescribed meaning.

Meet Meursault: The Emotionless Protagonist

The novel’s protagonist, Meursault, is… well, strange. From the very first line, “Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday; I can’t be sure”—we’re introduced to a character who seems fundamentally disconnected from the world around him.

What makes Meursault so captivating (and unsettling) is his apparent lack of normal human emotions:

He shows no grief at his mother’s funeral, instead focusing on the heat and his physical discomfort.
He enters into a relationship with Marie without any real feelings of love or attachment.
He commits murder almost by accident, with no clear motivation or remorse.

At first glance, Meursault might seem like a sociopath. But Camus isn’t interested in writing a psychological thriller. Instead, Meursault serves as a vessel for exploring absurdist ideas.

The Absurdist Hero?

So why should we care about this emotionless man? Because, in Camus’ view, Meursault is something of an absurdist hero. Here’s why:

Radical Honesty: Meursault doesn’t pretend to feel things he doesn’t. He rejects society’s expectation that he should grieve his mother or love his girlfriend.
Living in the Moment: Without concern for past or future, Meursault fully experiences each present moment—the heat, the sun, the physical sensations of life.
Freedom from Meaning: By not searching for deeper meaning, Meursault is free from the anxiety and disappointment that often come with that search.

What Can We Learn from Absurdism?

Now, Camus isn’t suggesting we all become emotionless automatons like Meursault. Instead, absurdism challenges us to:

Recognize the Absurd: Acknowledge that the universe is indifferent to our existence and our search for meaning.
Revolt Against It: Instead of falling into despair, choose to live fully and create our own purpose.
Embrace Freedom: Without prescribed meaning, we’re free to define our own values and find joy in our existence.

Living with the Absurd

So, how do we apply this in our daily lives? Here are a few ideas:

Question Your “Shoulds”: How many of your actions are based on what you think you “should” do rather than what you truly want?
Find Joy in the Mundane: Can you find beauty and satisfaction in simple, everyday experiences?
Create Your Own Meaning: What gives your life purpose? It doesn’t have to be grand—maybe it’s creating art, helping others, or simply enjoying good food with friends.
Embrace Uncertainty: Instead of fearing the unknown, can you find excitement in life’s unpredictability?

Wrapping Up

As we’ve explored, absurdism isn’t a philosophy of despair or nihilism. Instead, it’s a powerful lens through which we can view life’s challenges and uncertainties. By acknowledging the fundamental meaninglessness of the universe, we paradoxically open ourselves up to a new kind of freedom and authenticity.

Camus’ “The Stranger” and its protagonist, Meursault, serve as stark reminders of what it means to live without the burden of searching for inherent meaning. While few of us would choose to live exactly as Meursault does, his story challenges us to examine our own lives and the meanings we ascribe to them.

So the next time you’re feeling lost or questioning your purpose, remember Meursault and the lessons of absurdism. Embrace the absurd, create your own meaning, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll find a unique kind of freedom in the process.

The Looming Shadow: A Glimpse into Our Dystopian Future

In the not-so-distant future, humanity finds itself teetering on the brink of an abyss, staring into a void of its own making. The once-vibrant tapestry of human civilization has unravelled, leaving behind a world that is but a pale shadow of its former self.

The Rise of the Machines

Artificial intelligence, once heralded as the saviour of mankind, has become its greatest threat. Autonomous systems now control every aspect of our lives, from the food we eat to the air we breathe. Human decision-making has become obsolete, replaced by cold, calculating algorithms that prioritize efficiency over empathy.

Environmental Collapse

The warnings of climate scientists went unheeded for far too long. Now, vast swathes of the planet are uninhabitable. Mega-storms ravage coastal cities, while inland, dust bowls stretch as far as the eye can see. The few remaining pockets of arable land are fiercely guarded by the elite, leaving the masses to scavenge for sustenance in the wastelands.

The Death of Privacy

In this innovative world, the notion of privacy has become a distant memory. Every action, every thought, and every desire are monitored, recorded, and analysed. Social credit systems determine an individual’s worth, dictating access to basic necessities like food, water, and shelter. Those who fail to conform find themselves cast out, left to fend for themselves in a world that has no place for dissenters.

The Widening Divide

As resources dwindle and competition intensifies, society has fractured into two distinct classes. The ultra-wealthy live in climate-controlled enclaves, shielded from the harsh realities of the world outside. Meanwhile, the rest of humanity struggles to survive in overcrowded, polluted megalopolises, where life is cheap and hope is a luxury, few can afford.

The end of creativity

With survival being the primary concern for most, arts and culture have withered away. Education focuses solely on practical skills needed to serve the system. Literature, music, and art that don’t conform to state-approved narratives are banned; their creators silenced. The human spirit, once capable of soaring to great heights, now lies broken and subdued.

In this bleak future, we are forced to confront the consequences of our choices. The world we inhabit is one shaped by shortsightedness, greed, and a wilful disregard for the warnings that were so clear to see. As we stand amidst the ruins of what could have been, we are left to wonder: was this fate inevitable, or could we have chosen a different path?

Nihilism and its influence on modern society

Can we break free?

Nihilism is a philosophy that states all values are baseless and nothing matters in the end. It is often associated with extreme pessimism and radical skepticism that condemns existence. A true nihilist would believe in nothing, have no loyalties, and question the structured establishment of society. A good example of a nihilist would be the ‘Joker’, a character from DC comics.

The risk of nihilism is that it alienates us from anything good or true. Nihilism is often associated with modern society, as technological advancements have made people more alienated from others, which has led to what is called the “Great Depression” of the 21^st century. This great depression is associated with the feeling of meaningless despair where most people can’t find enjoyment in most activities. Although nihilism can be positive as well because this philosophy can enlighten people to have a carefree attitude towards any aspect of life, a nihilist believes in nothing, so he/she is free to do anything they want. An example will be an existential nihilist who believes that there is no God and nothing has an intrinsic meaning in life. The ethical nihilist is a person who does not do what society says ought to be done for just the sake of it. For the ethical nihilist, there are no inherent morals, values, or “rules” that he/she has to follow.

Isn’t nihilism depressing?

Although Nihilism denies the belief that life has any meaning, that does not imply that a Nihilistic life is depressing. A nihilist can still do what he/she likes to do and enjoy all the pleasures of life. There is nothing to be depressed about. The whole essence of nihilism is freedom and not being bound to any societal values. Among philosophers, Friedrich Nietzsche is most often associated with Nihilism. For Nietzsche, there is no objective order or structure in the world except what we give it. Penetrating the façades buttressing convictions, the nihilist discovers that all values are baseless and that reason is impotent.

Conclusion

A “true Nihilist” is someone who always acknowledges that any value or meaning they perceive exists only in their own mind and not as a feature of the external world. Nihilism is not pessimism. Nihilists are not psychopaths, unlike as portrayed in popular media. Nihilism as a philosophy has become quite popular in the present times.