Typically, philosophical systems are like the train I saw yesterday: Four engines, screaming whistles, a very brief while, then two trailing, rattling, empty flatcars; and then nothing but dying noise.
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Quantum Est In Rebus Inane 
But at least on a train cigars are smoked and drinks shared. There is communion. Versus the speed of jets, the solitude of cars.
Chew, chew! (Thanks, Ben!)