Civilization will eventually collapse, and only in the distant future will we be able to once again pursue another shot at creating a utopia. Nothing we do in our lifetime matters. This includes our successes, as well as our failures. We are already here, and since the result of our pursuits is null, we may as well try. There is no use in committing suicide, and any anxiety absorbed from our problems is irrational. There is no present need exceeding vapidity; we may as well embrace ennui. After all, not philosophers but fretsawyers and stamp collectors compose the backbone of society.