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I spent most of my twenties and early thirties looking for the answer to the question. You know, the big question, the meaning of life. I searched everywhere. I checked the Internet, but it wasn't there. I asked a priest, but he didn't have a clue, so I checked the Internet again, just in case I missed it. Nope, nothing. I spent six months living in a monastry with a bunch of monks. It did nothing but teach me how to punch through solid brick. I wrote letters to the most esteemed scientists of our generation, but the few who wrote back were even less helpful than the priest.

I was close to giving up, but then an idea hit me like a bullet to the throat. Maybe there is no answer, because the answer is a question. Not just a question, but a question to the answer of the question "What is the meaning of life?" It might not make sense to you, but it made perfect sense to me. I spent the next five years thinking up every possible question. It would need to be a universal question, one which could apply to any answer.

One Christmas I woke up and went downstairs, there were my beautiful wife and daughter opening their presents and laughing like idiots. As I bent down to kiss my daughter on the head it came to me, just like a knife to the heart; "So what?". That was the question. It fit perfectly. Whatever the answer to the question was, the question for the answer had to be "So what?". It was that kind of indifference which finally drove over the edge. I didn't want to live in a world ruled by "So what?". So that's why I'm writing this letter to you from beyond the grave. Yes, that's right, I'm dead. I'm a ghost, wooooooooooo.


Jon, Beyond The Grave.