>Now where could my pipe be? Can philosophy answer this question?

No, impossible. It can dance around the intractable truth. The truth that someone, somewhere has your pipe. That man is your Garfield. The embodiment of Satan. Pure evil incarnate. This being, this essence, represents something tragic. Bittersweet. A taste of tonic for the soul, if you will. A fresh wake up call for the hibernation of folly.

Garfield. Is. This. Call.

We heed it, but only because he is there. The half lowered eyelids are emblematic of a state of mind, a trance if you will, of an otherwise altered state of spirit. The soul is transmuted into a vessel devoid of caring. You are at once around an essence that is wise, somehow. Some way this essence is this orange cat.

And there it is.

Your pipe.

>>2438141
>t. Sokal