Sacrilege, that most heinous of philosophical crimes. A crime so heinous, it's been done by every Dane since the invention of cheese.
As Søren Kierkegaard so aptly put it: "The truth is rarely beautiful, but it is always true, even if it's ugly."
But what, pray tell, is the truth about sacrilege? Is it the act of committing adultery in a church? Is it the wearing of socks with sandals? Or is it simply the fact that we're all just trying to find meaning in a meaningless world?
Perhaps the answer lies in this: