As I neared the end of my Assembly [Series] speech last Wednesday evening, I glanced at the clock, realized I was running kind of long and tried to wrap it up quickly before everyone fell asleep or straggled out of Graham Chapel, leaving me alone at the podium talking to myself about myself. But in my haste to conclude, I actually forgot the two things I intended to say that might have given shape and purpose to my long, rambling exploration of post-modernism, deconstruction and existentialism.

I was doing okay, I thought, having made these points: that post-modernism devalues fine art and high culture and overvalues pop culture and mediocrity; that deconstruction confounds our understanding of ourselves and the world by suggesting that all explanations and interpretations are inherently limited, and can lead to epistemological crisis and a kind of paralyzing relativism and even nihilism that makes it difficult to say or believe anything with certainty; and, finally, that existentialism inevitably leads to alienation, hopelessness and despair driving us to drink, smoke, overeat or attend the church, mosque or synagogue of our choice. So I felt like I gave everyone a serious headache without offering the Tylenol that I had right there in my pocket.

Here it is. In my film “Bedazzled,” one of Brendan Frasier’s characters offers us this: Why does the existential dilemma have to be so damn bleak? Yes, we’re alone in the world, life is meaningless and death is inevitable, but is that necessarily so depressing?
It just puts the burden on us to fill our lives with joy and wonder and weirdness and adventure—whatever it is that makes our hearts pound, our minds expand and our spirits soar. And in the words of the Buddhist poet Thich Nhat Hanh, “The miracle is not to walk on water; the miracle is to walk on the green earth, dwelling deeply in the present moment, feeling truly alive.”

Thanks to Barbara Rea, Henry Schvey, Pier Marton, Bill Whitaker, Gaylyn Studlar, Rob Henke, Dan Bogaty and all the wonderful students I had the pleasure to meet for sharing a beautiful day with me.

Best always,
Harold Ramis ‘66