“None of these costumes are truly scary. No one ever dresses as crippling self-doubt.”
Thus Spoke Henri, Le Chat Noir. Our favorite black and white cat with a chronic Francophone complex claims his throne amongst the existential greats with his latest tirade on the absurdity of Halloween’s hallowed traditions. Nietzsche and Sartre would quake in their boots—or perhaps kowtow?—upon hearing this blinking cat pontificate.
Henri monotonously laments the pointless juxtaposition of “frightening ghouls” with a mere pumpkin. He blankly stares as he quotes Camus’s observation of man’s unsettling insecurity and self-rejection and wonders why we turn on the black cat, deeming it unlucky or reimagining it as a “grotesque caricature”. C’est vraiment insupportable!
Those who can’t get enough of Henri’s ennui and profound ramblings can watch him succumb to the humiliation of a trip to the vet or churn out a political diatribe, where he remarks that cats have no say over even their bodies, yielding “castration without representation”.
In an exclusive interview, Henri told us that the French give the utmost importance to cat schooling. We hear one of the most popular course offerings is an in-depth analysis of a feline reimagining of Sartre’s “Les Jeux Sont Faits.”