The Sense of Nonsense, or the Nonsense of Sense?
"I am a sensible person. I deal with Sensibility. Life is sensible. Nothing is done without some relation to sensibility. But then why do we have nonsense? Nonsense is magical feathers and faeries, or is nonsense to go somewhere we have already been? So if that's nonsense why does Life make sense? Or does it make nonsense? Who is too say what is sense and what is nonsense? Who is too say; that makes sense because it's nonsense? Or something is nonsense because it makes sense? Why is Life nonsense? Or is it; why does it make sense? Life is sensible but nonsensical. Can we categorize that is nonsense and sense when we can be so easily influenced? Can we honestly say which is which when one can believe so many things? Is nonsense sense, or sense nonsense, or something entirely different? I am a nonsensical person. I deal in nonsense. Right?"
Harper looked up to Dylan who was staring dumbstruck from the monitor in front of him.
"Right?" Harper asked again.
Dylan hesitated trying to remember exactly what Harper had said.
"Uh, I don't know," Dylan said.
"You see; I'm nonsensical but them everything I do can be considered sensible-" Harper began again.
"STOP!" Dylan yelled.
Harper stopped in his tracks.
"I don't really need to know your personal problems at this moment!" Dylan shouted.
Harper gave him a reproachful stare.
"I just want to know if the engines are working so we can get away from these Nietzscheans!" Dylan screamed through the comm. Link as the Andromeda jolted from another hit.
"Yes, Yes," Harper said bored, "They've been working for the last fifteen minutes!"