What comes first: the question or the answer? The obvious reply is that it varies from case to case, and often we find answers we did not think to ask. Yet, I would argue that while each answer comes with a corresponding question, not every question comes with an answer. There is a reason behind the colour of the sky, and so you must necessarily be able to ask why the sky is blue. There is a dinner expected at the end of the day, and so you must be able to ask what is for dinner. Information always allows for the corresponding pursuit of that information.

It isn't so simple with questions. What is irony? An answer can be formed. It can even be offered as definitive. But a complete response eludes the question as the question itself warps. The question grows with every piece of information added to the answer, engorging itself on what is meant to fed it and growing yet more ravenous with each bite. The question is a black hole. Yeah," says the question, "But I've still got room for more. Give me another bite of it," says the question. It is hungry as all hell. It is spewing out information when you hand it over. "Fucking Hawking radiation," says the question. "Just get yourself slidin' down that spacetime. Meet my event horizon. The world ain't ever gonna see you devoured." It is one endless fucker of a cosmological quandary.

So you've got to ask yourself. Which is the question, the chicken or the egg? Until the rhetorical irony hits you and you're stuck on your own metainquiry. You've done it. You tripped into the black hole. You are crossing into that singularity and all of history is playing out in front of you from just beyond where you can't reach. It's all questions now.

[All this delivered deadpan, off-the-cuff. Was it ironic? Did he mean It? Some questions cannot be answered]