Philosophy is for losers
When a problem presents itself to us, it means that in our heads we have identified that our internal representation of the universe has some properties that are contradictory to our goals. For example, maybe a human is cold and is trying to find an entrance to a building that is emitting heat. In the working memory of the human, there is now a spacial block that is limiting its thermoregulatory needs. So the brain initiates a series of computations that explores and tests the different options to circumvent the block.
When solving problems in general, we first try the most simple and apparent solution. In our example that would probably be to attempt to open the first discovered entrance without force. If this does not work, we "zoom in" on that particular solution and start investigating the entrance more in detail — we increase the resolution of a given section of our internal model of the problem. Perhaps the door could be opened by force, or by picking the lock. Maybe if we zoom in even further, we might discover some weakness in the lock mechanism that we could exploit.
If this first probing of the issue fails, what prevents us from getting stuck seems to be our ability to instead "zoom out" and look for other ways to attack the problem — there might be another entrance somewhere, or maybe the owner hid a key under a flower pot somewhere.
Philosophers are abusing this ability to zoom outwards. When studying philosophy, the pupil incrementally over-trains the ability to attack a problem on a higher conceptual level. While a functional human would find a way into the warm cottage and then proceed with enjoying the small things in life, like a hot bath, the philosopher instead questions why they found themselves out in the cold in the first place. When they can't find the answer to that question they repeat the process and takes one step further up the conceptual ladder — why do I feel cold at all? What is the nature of suffering?
The main issue with this method of problem-solving is that the further away from the immediate need one strays, the more the original problem (and subsequently its solution) becomes devaluated. After the philosopher has proudly ejected themselves to outer space by virtue of their divine reasoning, the inevitable conclusion becomes that all problems are just sub-goals of a much larger problem, namely the problem of justifying our own existence. All the small things, all the problems one can actually control, now seem completely meaningless in comparison with the gargantuan task of figuring out the nature of our reality.
Wherever authority still forms part of good bearing, where one does not give reasons but commands, the logician is a kind of buffoon: one laughs at him, one does not take him seriously. Socrates was the buffoon who got himself taken seriously: what really happened there?
All problems can in one way or another be extrapolated to this extremely general level. They can be traced to the original problem of the first cell (the Allfather). As the saying goes; all roads lead to Rome, but in this allegory Rome is unfortunately a shithole instead of a glimmering metropolis.
So now our poor arbitrary philosopher is left in a rather depressing seat. All the problems that they can readily solve give no emotional reward whatsoever, and the only problem that would yield such a reward is at present completely unsolvable. This soul-butchering stasis makes the philosopher go nothing short of apeshit. Which gives rise to the final boss of the game of philosophy, and it is as ironically cruel as one might expect, to give back value to the small things in life again. Our great thinker is now confronted with the sad realization that they are unable to solve a problem that even a chimpanzee can solve with ease. Verily, the ultimate insult to their trade and character. Perhaps the forbidden fruit of Eden is a direct warning against this.
Nietzsche, after completely desaturating his life by entertaining the thought of "eternal recurrence" too long, had to invent the vaguely described übermensch as a creature that could thrive on top of this nihilistic perception of the world. But even this noble archetype could not force the genie back in the bottle before insanity had to come to the rescue.
In one aspect, philosophy represents a retardation of evolution. A healthy and happy animal does not need a reason for existing. Only a being in decline needs to grip the shovel of philosophy and start digging their own grave in search of the light of life.
From another point of view, the philosophers are explorers and conquerors. Having found a new shore where no tree can take root without withering from depression, they must now terraform our minds to cope with this new continent. Eventually, science will chase out god from whatever dark recess of our minds he is still hiding in, and when that day comes maybe our martyrous pilgrims will have found a fitting substitute. But I still have faith in my initial statement; only dysfunctional beings are obsessed with writing the kind of useless, far-fetched shit that is in this very blog post.