New children’s book series take on nihilism, ennui

It’s a great day for education and philosophy, after publishing giant McMillin Publishing announced long-awaited plans to adapt several world-renowned books on nihilism and fatalism into kid-friendly books for children of all ages.

Saying that the current climate of children’s literature does nothing to prepare them for the crushing loneliness, chaos and bitter meaninglessness of life, McMillin CEO Sue Wisside said that the books would finally correct the widespread and erroneous childhood notion that the world is a place of love and fairness.

“I think we can all agree that growing up was a fantastic experience,” she said to gathered reporters at a press conference this morning. “Love, friendship, unity, justice, fun – these are just a few of the cherished lies that we all remember so fondly from our formative years. And if you’re looking for books to fool your children into thinking there’s some kind of meaning or purpose or reason to this short, ugly existence of hatred and suffering, you have literally thousands to choose from.”

However, said Wiside, when it comes to cultivating a curiosity and interest in the emptiness and howling despair that awaits us all, or even just getting the littl'uns thinking about the uncertainty of existence and being instead of frolicking puppies and candy trees in far-off magical kingdoms, there just isn’t anything kid-friendly.

“The only books we have on these fascinating, life-altering, addiction-causing subjects are filled with hopelessly long words that our young tykes would never be able to understand,” she explained, drawing on the collected works of Nietzsche, Sartre, and other existentialist philosophers. “And to be honest, they also all lack the colourful, wide-eyed and naïve animal heroes that our youngest seem to crave so much.”

And parents of children involved in the early focus group testing say the books are amazing.

“I’m blown away,” said one parent. “Just yesterday I went into little Johnny’s room and found him drinking whiskey out the bottle and smoking an unending chain of cigarettes. When I asked him what he was doing, he just shrugged and said ‘muting the unbearable scream that is silence' and then went back to writing his terrible, self-pitying poetry.”

McMillin says that the books will go on sale in bookstores across the globe as early as next Spring, and children will be able to choose between wonderful titles like See Spot Contemplate the Meaninglessness Of It All, The Secret Seven and the Mystery of The Benevolent God Who Allows Children To Die Of Easily-Treated Illnesses and Fun With Dick And Jane (also titled “The Virtues of Reckless Hedonism”).

Girl realises her life isn’t Indie music video

Pictured: Not Jessica.

It was a bad day and depressing wake-up call today for 22-year-old Jessica Barleson, after the young, dress-wearing fan of Alt-J reportedly realised that her life is not actually an Indie Music Video, and that she is not in any way the carefree, tall, skinny blonde girl depicted in the underground media.

“It’s been an awful day,” she said. “You know, I used to think I was like a real-life Lana Del Rey, drinking and loving the nights and days away in a careless and reckless haze of summer days, gorgeous men, fast cars, memorable nights out, and early mornings on a beach watching sunrises with my Ray-Ban-wearing, cardigan-bedecked friends. But now I realise that it’s nothing of the sort.”

Barleson now says that, despite her best efforts to drive in cars without a seatbelt and with one hand out the window flapping and waving through the sultry autumn breeze, or even to stand up and hold her arms outspread in the warm rays of the sun as the warm late-October wind whips her hair artistically behind her while dark-haired musos croon meaningful lyrics at her and her counterculture companions, she has to face reality.

Also pictured: not Jessica again. 

“I can’t just dance on the beach to no music, or in a public place as if no one is watching,” she said, citing mounting student debt, pressure to get a job after graduating with a degree in Fine Arts, and growing expectations from her final year Master’s thesis supervisor. “I can’t lie in the middle of the road late at night, the soft, flashing lights bathing my soft skin in the ruby, amber and emerald of a carefree life on the fringe, or even sit around a fire sipping authentic Mexican tequila and wearing nothing but a bikini top and denim shorts. Hell, I’m almost 23. I have obligations to meet. Bills to pay. Life isn’t some Music Video. I’m not some imaginary character embodying the lyrics of a song.”

Pictured a third time: people who in no way,
shape or form, represent Jessica.

So what now for the depressed, dejected teen? Well, the answer, she says, is utterly clear to her.

“I just feel so utterly betrayed,” she said, wearing a black top, dark mascara and fishnet stockings, a new, sombre tattoo of a dagger-impaled black heart decorating the side of her bone-white back. “It s like life is meaningless and a total illusion; it’s a lie, designed to heat your desires only to dash your ambitions on the dark, jagged rocks of an uncaring, brusque world filled with misery and decay. I almost feel lost in a universe of darkness and chaos.”

“It’s almost,” she said, writing a depressing poem about the meaningless void that encompasses all existence, “as if I’m one of those girls in a Bullet for my Valentine music video.”

pics: wikimedia commons, Huffington Post, Pintrest