The job of the writer is to engage people on the horrors of the world even if they don’t care – they do not! – about all of the wrongs because it is how they themselves pretend to be willing to die for truth but actually only care about when their time will come and how their children might cry about that and then carry on and be worse.
So, no, none of it really matters.
I feel that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable. That’s the two categories. The horrible are like, I don’t know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don’t know how they get through life. It’s amazing to me. 
And the miserable is everyone else. So you should be thankful that you’re miserable, because that’s very lucky, to be miserable.
(As Alvy Springer, Annie Hall, 1976)
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