I dropped by my friend’s office to say hello this afternoon. He was immersed in some important project; he looked really stressed out – I’d obviously caught him at a bad time. The situation was a little uncomfortable and I was about to excuse myself when he yelled: “what’s the point,” screwed up the piece of paper he’d been writing on, and threw it at the bin.
“There’s really not point to anything,” I said, attempting to break the tension, “except maybe that lead pencil.”
“This pencil has less point than anything else,” he asserted, picking it up from the desk. “It’s not even lead; it’s graphite.” He walked over to the photocopier and began copying. He returned a minute later with an A3 close-up of the pencil tip. He was right – there really was no point.
“There’s really not point to anything,” I said, attempting to break the tension, “except maybe that lead pencil.”
“This pencil has less point than anything else,” he asserted, picking it up from the desk. “It’s not even lead; it’s graphite.” He walked over to the photocopier and began copying. He returned a minute later with an A3 close-up of the pencil tip. He was right – there really was no point.