Determinism

Gaius listened. Sweezus was sucking up to Camus.

Wow! Sweezus was saying. Wow! You were in the Second World WAR! That's so cool!

Yes, said Camus. It was in occupied France. I edited the underground newspaper Combat. Of course not many people knew it was me until after the war, but then I became quite a hero.

Oh AWESOME! said Sweezus.

I'm going to buy myself a pie, said Gaius. See you later.

See ya, said Sweezus, and turned back to Camus.

It must have been brilliant back then, he said.

It had its moments, said Camus. In fact my article for Velosophy is about one of those moments.

Tell me, said Sweezus.

You might pinch it, said Camus. You haven't done yours.

I promise I won't, said Sweezus. Go on.

Alright, said Camus. True story. We're in hiding with false ID papers. We get news of the Allied advance. We're returning to Paris on three bicycles. Pierre, Janine, Michel and me.

That's not enough bicycles, said Sweezus.

Exactly, said Camus. So we have to take turns donkeying Janine. But they let me off my turn because I have TB.

What's THAT? asked Sweezus. TB?

It's a disease, said Camus.

Is that what you die of? asked Sweezus.

No, said Camus. I die of something else. Anyway, on the way back to Paris we see planes diving and dropping bombs, we see Germans sheltering in the woods. We keep going, stupidly believing the bombs aren't meant for us.

Oh WOW! said Sweezus. But you were right, they weren't meant for you.

But they still could have killed us, said Camus.

If something's meant to kill you, said Sweezus, it does.

I know, said Camus.