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He kept doing this. Thor would have a theory, so he'd built a raft. I find this humorous. ********************************************************************* I am responsible for Thor Heyerdahl’s final voyage. Being an existentialist, I feel no guilt or remorse about the tragedy or my part in it; I have hence decided to put to rest the false rumors and hysterical innuendos that have surfaced via the media since Thor’s disappearance. Here’s what really happened: Many years ago, while living on the Left Bank, deeply immersed in existential thought and study, I came upon some heretofore unpublished existential writings. I was rooting through the attic of a recently deceased existentialist cohort, an old fellow for whom I had deep affection, even though, in the ten years I knew him, he never spoke a word to me. Every night we would sit in a local existential café, drinking coffee and brooding with furrowed brows. I would speak frequently to the man (I never found out his name) and he would speak to other existentialists, but never to me. I took this as the ultimate existential bond, so I took it upon myself to pillage his personal belongings before his so-called “rightful heirs” (what a ridiculous concept!) showed up. Having pocketed
some loose currency, I came across an old, yellowed manuscript of perhaps
500,000 words. Written in longhand, it was completely illegible – I sensed
I’d stumbled upon something of existential note. And indeed, such proved
to be the case. Having taken the volume home, and after months of intensive
study, I managed to decipher one phrase. Translated from the French, it
read, “While the cat’s away.” My curiosity piqued, I asked Sartre if he
was familiar with this concept, metaphorically or otherwise. Sartre laughed
that existential laugh of his and replied, “But of course. ‘While the cat’s
away’ is the very bedrock upon which all of existentialism sits!”
I did. As I spoke, Thor began pacing and stroking his beard. “While the cat’s away,” he mumbled, then paused. “The mouse will play.” I sensed that Thor’s wheels were spinning at high RPMs. He paused again. “It’s apparent that these two ideas are very closely related,” he mused. He paced and beard-stroked faster. “There has to be a connection between the ancient Zen Buddhists and the ancient existentialists.” I did my best to explain that there were no ancient existentialists, that existentialism had evolved very recently, but Thor motioned for me to be silent. “There must have been some sort of communication,” Thor said, then paused to pick some lint from his beard. He went on, eyes intense: “If you wanted to communicate with another person or culture that had values closely resembling your own, how would you do it?” This question was rhetorical, but I didn’t realize it. “Well,” I said, “I’d pick up the phone…” “Nonsense!” Thor interrupted. “You’d build a raft!” Again, I tried to explain that there were no ancient existentialists, and, again, he cut me off. “Okay,” Thor
said, then resumed his pacing. “The ancient Zen Buddhists were probably
too busy meditating to put to sea.” Another pause. “And the ancient existentialists
were probably too busy being depressed around the campfire to put to sea.”
Thor scanned the café for an exit. “Then I must construct an existential raft and sail it to Japan!” As he headed for another door, I asked what I considered a vital question, one that, so far as I knew, no existentialist had ever pondered: “What would an existentialists use to construct a raft?” But Thor had found the exit. He was gone. Thor spent a year in Japan, constructing and outfitting a rice paper raft. Eighteen months sailing it from Kyoto to Biarritz, France. The voyage around Cape Horn, then north to Europe has been heralded as the most amazing feat of seamanship in the annals of maritime history. Tragedy struck, however, a week after Thor’s return. He launched his existential raft from a beach near Calais. It sank immediately. Thor’s body was never recovered The following is a list of articles Allan has written for the magazine:
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