There is something to be said about the certitude of the cynical nihilist. There is no such thing as beauty, or good, or truth. Anything goes, who am I to tell

There is something to be said about the certitude of the cynical nihilist. There is no such thing as beauty, or good, or truth. Anything goes, who am I to tell anyone anything about values? They might become a better person for it, the horror. Who am I to tell myself, my spouse, my children, my brother and sister, my neighbor what I believe is beautiful, is good or is true? Let us drift through the valley of sorrow carried by the whims of the collective fads, sporadically titillating our biological pleasure centers to get some relief. Utopia dawn upon us, any moment now.