Once upon a time . . . down on an old farm lived a duck family and Mother Duck had been sitting on a clutch of new eggs. One nice morning, the eggs hatched and out popped two cute ducklings. They both started to attend duck school and eventually passed well.
The ducklings grew quickly, but Mother Duck had a secret worry. "The first one is kinda weird, it spends most of its time behind duckputer!" she said to herself, shaking her head as she looked at her firstborn. As the days went by, the older but smaller duck was more and more weird. Still, everything was ok, until he installed Duck-Hat version 6.2 on his duckputer. From this moment, he started to utter words which noone understood. Words like ext2, fsck or uid 0. He felt nobody wanted him. Nobody understood these words. "Nobody loves me, they all tease me! Why am I different from my friends?" Then one day, at sunrise, he ran away from the farmyard to the city.
He knocked on the first door with only shreds of hope. Very weird duck opened the door and the little one asked a straight question: "Do you know anyone with uid 0?" The big one in the door seemed to be shocked, but after a few momens of awkward silence, the city duck said: "Yes, I have uid 0 and I know many more ducks with uid 0, or with even more uids!" The little one was so happy, for first time in his little life he found someone with uid 0.
As the time passed by, bigger duck tried to teach as much as possible to the little one, but little one seemed to be somehow uninterested in any new words. Despite all biggers tries, the young one had already put his mind into something else: he decided that he will study other ducks and throught them the world. He wanted to know why things are like they are and not somehow else. But as he questioned everyone, every value or feeling around him, he never found anything. He went deeper and deeper, but all he found was a headache. Eventually, he figured there is no greater value in the world, there is no big purpose waiting behind the corner. That there is no God, no hell, no sin or given morality: that all that is and has a value is duck made. He also found that they were right - thinking does hurt.
Much later during his life, he found few (dead) ducks who did see the world pretty much as he does: ducks as Descartes, Camus, Sartre and especially Nietzsche. With their guidance, the little duck finally found some way of his own, a way he feels his life should be heading. Unfortunatelly, there doesnt seem to be enough living ducks sharing his views of the world: the world where intellect and imagination combine into driving force of duckkind and chase out superstition, where reason and art are the final judges, where ducks know that love, money, travels or family can never, ever, equal the possibility of self - but hopefully, in time, he may find them too. And if not, well, all stories dont end with happy end, do they?