If you’re a nihilist, you can’t write a proper story. You won’t ever be able to write a proper story. Okay? I hate to break it to you. Maybe your grandmother didn’t tell you that one when you sat burbling upon her withered knee at age three. Maybe she did.
“Granny, if I grow up to be a nihilist, can I write stories?”
“No, my precocious grandchild, you cannot. At least, you will not be a good writer. You can, however, be a chef. So go bake me a delicious cake.”
It’s instructive to note that most TV and film writers these days are nihilists. The Pixar guys aren’t. At least, judging from their output so far, they aren’t. Most everyone else? James Cameron, Seth Whoever, the guy who wrote that one movie about the guy who runs around killing random people (oh, wait–that’s about fifty million different movies)? They’re nilihing with the best/worst of ’em.
Why, you ask, can nihilists be chefs but not good writers? I will tell you in a future post. In the meantime, go make yourself useful and bake a cake or something. Or bacon-wrapped macaroni, deep-fried in boiling, molten, roiling fat. That sort of thing does not respect philosophy (yes, Paula Dean might very well be a nihilist–a Southern nihilist). Unless you have something against bacon. Which is unthinkable.