The universe is on its way to a slow, cold death.
In the meantime, global warming is causing record levels of wildfires.
Worst of all, Donald Trump is still at the top of the polls.
How can a serious-minded beagle keep his head up?
Zarathustra comes through again:
I no longer feel as you do: this cloud which I see beneath me, the blackness and gravity at which I laugh — this is your thundercloud. … Whoever climbs the highest mountains laughs at all tragic plays and tragic seriousness.
Brave, unconcerned, mocking, violent — thus wisdom wants us: she is a woman and always loves only a warrior.
…yet later in the same discourse:
…butterflies and soap bubbles and whatever among men is of their kind seem to know the most about happiness. Seeing these light, foolish, delicate little souls flutter — that seduces Zarathustra to tears and songs.
I would believe only in a god who could dance. And when I saw my devil I found him serious, thorough, profound and solemn: it was the spirit of gravity — through him all things fall.
Not by wrath does one kill, but by laughter. Come, let us kill the spirit of gravity! …
Now I am light, now I fly, now I see myself beneath myself, now a god dances through me.