Use the word “logic” in a sentence: there isn’t anybody over twelve, not conspicuously brain defective, who won’t believe, at least tentatively, the hse gets it. Give that same person the Logic 101 final, and the chance of getting good answers evaporates rapidly.
When I write to the White House the White House pretends that it’s competent to understand English. Maybe, but is it competent to understand my English? Prigogine’s English? Russell’s English? Wittgenstein’s English? If they don’t understand my English, to whom do I complain? The same bureau the Iroquois complain to after they’re been barred from using their own land, fishing their own lake, walking their own trails …
The Church can operate, the US can lead “democracy,” only if there’s no examination at the top: we have Christians’ testimony that they hear God, never God’s.
There: I talk to God: at what point does God demonstrate that he understands me?
Right now I’m just scribbling, not getting to the target I’d first imagined: here, in précis:
I’m alive, therefore …
I must be healthy
It must be OK to smoke
I didn’t catch anything from that girl after all …
Humans, thinking …
I shoplifted that candy bar, I’m still walking around, I hear no sirens, therefore …
I didn’t do it|
I’m surrounded by idiots
God doesn’t exist
God is a fool …
get the gist please, check back, lots of work, redaction to do
I do not think, and therefore cannot go mad.
On ’50s TV the comedian, Sid Caesar, Red Skelton, somebody, came out dressed as the absurd professor, hemmed and hawed, shuffled, then said clearly and loudly to the mic, to the camera, to the audience, “However …”
The comedian was satirizing intellectual posturing, we all get it, the dumbest of us, we’re all right. But if we start to get specific, we lose our audience: we’ll all laugh at ourselves, so long as names aren’t named.
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