Critique of Pure Existence

Future technologists fleeing doomed classrooms of dying Harvards inspired me to Google the following questions, "Do I really exist?" "Is there hope of an afterlife?" and "Is it possible for some comets to emit autonomous frequencies of music even when no other comets are present?" as a way of reconciling the competing urges to "protect the public exercise of reason at all costs" and "die holding the image of a favorite pair of slippers in my mind."

These questions strike me as some of the most urgent posed by our current moment of crisis. The veracity of the claim "Lee Sharks does, in fact, exist" would necessitate a series of corollary truths, namely: 1. All ominous sonnet crowns are mortal; 2. The circumference of any given sonnet crown will be equidistant from the inverse proportion of "true love's kiss;" 3. God exists & the universe has purpose; 4. Sad zombies cry out for sanguinary Moon Base. 

Though I would like to believe that Lee Sharks exists, I contain a tiny Immanuel Kant homunculus inside my human spirit, whose thinking, over the course of a millennial incubation in cryogenic freeze, has developed its former framework of philosophical modernity--wch it now sees as stunted, the mere germ of its mature Enlightenment. From an epistemological system wch might be summed up tidily, if insufficiently, as "Critique of Pure Reason," or, "knowledge within the limits of reason alone," the Kant homunculus inside has systematically developed his thought into an ontological system wch might be similarly caricatured as "Critique of Pure Existence," or "knowledge within the limits of existence alone." 

Point is, inside this more radical philosophical modernity inside the tiny Kant inside me, it is precisely this premise--"Lee Sharks does, in fact, exist"--wch I can no longer take as given; wch I must abandon, if I ever hope to teach bright robots to download "salvation for the human race" directly to their iPhones.