Another year. Another birthday. Another feeling of purposelessness in an irrational universe.
Albert Camus celebrates his 109th birthday today, but not with the joy one might expect concerning such a landmark occasion. True to the author’s form, we guess, the event is marked by malaise, ennui, and discontent.
The author was seen at the Lakeville Duckpin Bowling Alley, pouting and moaning near the snack bar about how “absurd this all is.” The author could only take comfort in the fact that there was one pepperoni personal pizza left and that he was allowed to chainsmoke the entire time.
“The simplistic morality of bowling contradicted the complicated morality imposed by authorities such as the state, Church, and bowling alley managers.”
3rd grader and best friend Scotty Davison tried his best to cheer up his pal with the gifts he brought special just for the birthday boy himself: a few essays on anarcho-syndicalism and some tracts on Algerian independence.
When that didn’t work, Scotty asked the DJ if they could turn on the blacklights and go “cosmic bowl,” even though the establishment had a clear policy about playing dance music before 7:30 pm. When the DJ obliged, just this once, a sly smile cracked on Camus’s face, but alas, it wasn’t enough.
As the party was winding down, Scotty saw Camus in the corner complaining to some league team guys about how “the simplistic morality of bowling contradicted the complicated morality imposed by authorities such as the state, Church, and bowling alley managers.”
In one last ditch effort to get his friend to enjoy his own party, Scotty brought him the last piece of cake. “Try some, Al. It’s butternut frosting, your favorite.”
After a few bites Camus replied, “I shall eat, but I find no pleasure in this transient feeling of celebration.”
Oh, Al.