The irony of life, the way I see it, is that we spend its entirety in pursuit of a place where age, appearance, social status, and wealth are irrelevant.
The problem is that there is only one place where that does not matter: Death.
No matter what religion you are, no matter what you believe or don’t believe in, there is nothing more important in death than what you really are.
Maybe it’s wise to spend your life living in the future. There’s nothing more maleable than the future, right?
More precisely, old, ugly, disenfranchised, poor orange haggis. And, if we are old, ugly, disenfranchised, poor orange haggis, that will apparently be okay when we’re dead, but maybe not so good for our future.
Maybe we should just pour the beer on the cornflakes and call it a draw?
That may be the irony of your life, but I’ve met quite a few people who have no such goal in mind. They hold age to be very important, and social status, and put a mild stress on appearance. From those things, some people form almost their entire opinion on others.
I disagree that this is a universal irony, and prehaps that it is even ironic at all. Its about as ironic as using an umbrella, then going to take a shower after one arrives home.