Are You a Happy Pig or an Unhappy Philosopher?

Would you rather be a happy pig or an unhappy philosopher? Right? So that's basically the question. Dostoyevsky wrote about this. It's like, well, what makes you think you'd give up your misery? The complaint is something like, i find my expanded consciousness unbearable. And no bloody wonder. People are rushing all the time to escape from the burden of their acute self consciousness. That's part the eatable catastrophe of freid.