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The Unexamined Life II.

Plato and Aristotle shoot the shit.

Okay, so I received some complaints after the first THE UNEXAMINED LIFE post – some being “two” – regarding the meteoric plummet of the piece, which I advertised would rise above the typical muck of my Ramblings, yet degenerated into a sophomoric pissing contest between yours truly, Martystophanes, and my fellow scholar, Forstotle.  So, we are going to try it again, re-visiting the same proposition that “The unexamined life is not worth living.”  Take it away Forstotle:

Forstotle (F):  The unexamined life is not worth living.

Martystophanes (M):  This is exactly how you started the last debate, and it ended badly.

(F):  So rise above it.

(M):  Fine.  The proposition is a charter for mass suicide, as most people live unexamined lives.  Let’s face it, most people are morons whose intellectual curiosity doesn’t extend past what socks to wear.

(F):  That’s very dark.

(M):  So is a pro-suicide proposition.  Socrates was a wannabe mass murderer.

(F):  People are smarter than you think.

(M):  Then why do hundreds of millions of poor people watch millionaires every week, whether it’s the NFL or international soccer, or the NBA?  So long as there’s a ball and a millionaire, people will suspend their miserable lives to watch.

(F):  I like sports, yet I’ve examined my life.

(M):  That must have been a ten minute pop quiz.

(F):  Fuck you.  At least I read books that don’t have women in armor riding dragons on the cover.

(M):  Oooh, Mr. NY Times!  You’re so fucking informed.  Just cause you go to the Strand Bookstore twice a month hardly makes you Aristophanes.

(F): I like the Strand.

(M):  I bet you do.  How’s that blonde clerk doing?

(F):  He’s kidding!

(M):  Bet you “examined” her, as your creepy ass lurked behind one of those dusty bookshelves.

(F):  You’ve crossed the line.  I’m suing.

(M):  Bring it on bitch!

(F):  I’m bringing it.  When I’m done, I’ll own this blog!

(M):  Which has a propensity for being sued.  Examine that.

(F):  Good point.  You owe me dinner.

(M):  $75 limit.

(F)  $100.

(M)  $90, and you can invite the blonde, who I assume doesn’t eat.

(F):  Done!

Forstotle peeking through a bookshelf as he “examines” some ass.
About Marty 86 Articles
Hollywood screenwriter, reformed attorney and worshiper of the tiny princesses on Monster Island. Became a nerd as a child, thanks to lack of athletic ability, which turned me on to fantasy novels, scifi movies, and not having girlfriends. Favorite projects I've worked on as writer - adapting BBC SILK for the U.S., the Japanese anime BLACKJACK and currently my passion project, PANDORA. Soon to be a major comic book.
Contact: Website

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