The rational thing to do would be to stop. Or maybe go to bed at a reasonable hour. Or eat good. Or get a life or something suitably drastic. No, no, no my friend, those aren't options, they're the evil machinations of a softcock mentality. Rationality reached it's apex at the end of the Enlightenment and we're still dealing with the fall out today, trying to make sense of reality TV and Matthew McConaughey's regenerating hair-line. "Chaos Reigns", that's what a little fox that was eating itself told me on Lars Von Triers AntiChrist -- whatever you do, don't watch this movie -- so the only irrational response is to recreate reality in my own image (not really, I mean the logic is a bit faulty, just roll with me on this one OK). Sure, I have an unhealthy fascination with Heath Ledger's Joker (mentioning this doesn't really make sense either), but there's an order to things, all these cosmological constants floating around just waiting for an agent of chaos to rearrange them. How good would I look in a nurses outfit?
There now I fell better. Bye.