the stars like dust

It has become apparent that, some time early last century, an incarnation of Rodney McKay spent time in Paris, making surrealist landscapes and ranting beneath the brightly colored umbrellas of outdoor cafes about the hackery of all other Surrealists, especially the famous ones. He in every way rejected the notion that he was part of any kind of a movement, or was an artist of any kind. He was an engineer of the visual spectrum, and studying the makeup of human perception by toying with its objects. The only painter in the city he had any respect for was Radek Zelenka, who was poor and lived in a garret, but never pretended that this made him more creative.
Paris at this time was full of artists, writers, and thinkers of all sorts. The worst of the lot, in Rodney's excellent opinion, were the philosophers. They took up too much space at the cafes, and tended to drive up the price of coffee. Also, they all pretended that staying up late drinking wine and talking was a great undertaking, advancing human understanding, when clearly they were just interested in having sex and getting drunk with smart people in weird clothing.
There was one philosopher that Rodney found particularly annoying, with floppy hair, a tendency to wear only black shirts and trousers, and an aggravating skill at debate. The man would slouch his way through an argument, looking ready to fall over and snore at any moment, and then suddenly slam home a profound conundrum before stealing Rodney's wine glass and nabbing whatever woman might actually have been ready to go home with him that evening. Furthermore, he refused to recognize Rodney's genius, though he clearly knew his way around an art studio. And worst of all, the only time Rodney had managed to win an argument with him, he turned out to have been napping through the last twenty minutes of Rodney's perfect rebuttal.
Still, Rodney had hope of weaning him from Nietzsche and Sartre, and convincing John that surrealism was superior to existentialism as a means of apprehending reality, since the surrealist could incorporate scientific approaches into his work in a way a philosopher could only envy. He dealt with measurable phenomena, and not mere opinions. John would surely learn to see the light of reason, and Rodney was the man to show it to him.

It seems so obvious! And yet, I look through the internets, and there is no record of these events.
::sobs::