And the meaning of life is…

From the Washington Post for your viewing pleasure:

Belle, 14, has been blind for eight years and always wears sunglasses for photo ops.

Belle, 14, has been blind for eight years and always wears sunglasses for photo ops.

“Kafka wrote that the meaning of life is that it ends. He meant that our lives are shaped and shaded by the existential terror of knowing that all is finite. This anxiety informs poetry, literature, the monuments we build, the wars we wage, the ways we love and hate and procreate — all of it. Kafka was talking, of course, about people.”

Obviously, there’s more to this little article than meets the eye. And, what does the dog have to do with any of it?

I need to read Kafka.

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