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# Thursday
- URL: https://thedailyeudemon.com/49176/
- Published: 2020-01-16T12:30:29.000Z
- Updated: 2020-01-16T12:30:29.000Z
- Author: Eric Scheske
- Tags: Miscellaneous, #wpChunk

![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/ea/fd/eafdb338-c9b6-4f87-8363-78ab94cc3a18/content/images/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/albert-camus.jpg)

When the full truth and weight of the absurd hits a person, the result can be dramatic. A person might stand against the wall and wail, like H.G. Wells' frustrated utopian expectations giving way to defeatist whimpers at the end of his life in *Mind at the End of its Tether*. Or a man might throw a tantrum and flail away at the silent oak tree universe, like I hear William Faulkner used to do–get drunk, stagger into his backyard, and shake his fist and curse at the heavens. Or a person might sit in a café someplace and snarl at everything and everyone, like existentialists in the 1950s who read Camus' novels and adopted a despairing, estranged, nihilist attitude toward a meaningless world.