Fantasy: I bought Eichmann's property and built a very small
study space on it: Click here to see
The picture above is of Adolf Eichmann's house in Buenos Aires (Argentina), seen from the direction of the bus stop where he would go to and from work at his job in a Mercedes-Benz automobile factory. It's, so to speak, in the middle of nowhere – like "Bloomfield" in Baltimore Maryland (USA) where my parents had a lower working class house when I was 3 or 4 years old. That house has apparently since been torn down and the current neighborhood (still lower working class) was not there at that time or maybe the exact location of that house is now part of a superhighway "cloverleaf"? It was just a stark house on barren ground with some weeds growing (I presume there was no need to mow grass).
So I imagine myself going to the bus stop after Eichmann had been captured and taken away and the house who knows what has became of it, continued to be occupied or not. So I would not go out there expecting to meet Godot concerning whom I know nothing, but expecting to separate the wheat from the chaff by all those who are looking for answers not questions, respectfully, or less respectfully, saying "Goodbye!" and rushing off some place more to their suiting. Let them eat Wonder Bread, which helps make people stay normal, which, of course, is normal.
There are things to do here, such as to think about how nice many business offices are to spend some time in if I don't work there (or any place else), and nobody else is there except a night watchman.
For life to have meaning would be bad. Why?
Any meaning life might have would probably be something people would try to extract from me such as dying for some Good Cause that makes life meaningful for them. For instance: defending the country are living in where I too am stuck residing, in a war: "Better dead than red.", etcetera and so forth. They get off on honoring dead "heroes".
Since they have not cared to help me enjoy my life I see no reason to help them enjoy their lives at my expense. If their imaginations are so impoverished that they need "meaning", like transferring popcorn kernels in a big paper cup into their mouths to masticate while watching a movie, to keep from being bored to death, that's unfortunate, but it's not my fault; I see no reason to exert my self to fix a problem I did not cause, especially when it would cause me pain and suffering me to do so. Neither should they treat me like my life is worthless, e.g.: asa human resource.
"Meaning" can harm me. At best it is sort of like a dead mouse on the kitchen floor the cat has caught that I have to dispose of in the trash, except that I like the cat and I pity the poor mouse. They do not have such feeling for me, even though I, like or unlike them, am a person and the name they gave me does mean: something for them to walk on.
If life has a meaning, even if it's no skin off my ass, then I've been cheated out of making it mean what I might creatively cook up for it to mean. I'm jsut supposed to do something that, in truth, somebody else cooked up, although they may put on that they received it from some place else, like Moses on Mt. Sinai?
Iow convenient for Mr. Moses to at least play a role in implementing the 10 (or 11, as the case may be...) commandments, not just being stuck obeying them. I don't want to play somebody else's game: I want to cook up my own, and if I'm not up to the task I hope will accept the consequences of not being good enough. Call my bluff! "Play your role in God's Divine Plan for mouse and man, Bradford!." "Whatcha gonna pay me for it? It's gotta be enough for me to do it quick, and then use the proceeds to underwrite me getting on with doing what I want to. It better be good!"
Now pleae, will you kindly let me get on with waiting for Mr .Godot to not show up (unlike you)?