It's my annual moment of "Why are we here and what the fuck does it all mean?"
Humans: feverish, selfish little clots of ailments and grievances, to steal a quote, and what's the end point of it all? What is the purpose of a brain that experiences ennui? Do ferns have existential doubts like we do, way down in their ferny bits? Is it as funny as it seems that there a niche in the pocket of the cosmos for worship of the fictional Daniel Jackson in glasses?
These questions and more brought to you by one ounce of Jack Daniels.