I was perusing recently an impertinent and thoroughly engaging text called, On Bullshit, by the Princeton professor emeritus of philosophy, Harry Frankfurt, when I stumbled upon an inspiratory detail: Non-sense. This precious construction was noted as the arch-nemesis of one of the monumental philosophers of the 20th century, Ludwig Wittgenstein.
As you, friend-follower, have undoubtedly noticed, I have a penchant for criticizing the human proclivity for illogic. As I have pontificated prior, we are feeble, defective creatures, with curiously disruptive effects known as emotions. Said overly-simply, reason, logic, and scientific representation of reality were the heroes and obsessions of Mr. Wittgenstein. They are also friends of mine.
Either way, I now have a prominent citation from which to defend my arbitrary outpourings on the theme of illogic (or non-sense). Perhaps Wittgenstein's word outplays my own modest term (which I picked up from Christopher Moore) when it comes to precision. Nevertheless, I do not and never have promised to be profoundly honest, realistic, or scientific in my writings.
What? Say you that this is contradictory with my past and pending statements on the all-importance of reasonable thought and the insidious character of illogic? Nay, I say to you. I turn now to Harry Frankfurt and distance myself from L. Wittgenstein. I promise to bullshit you, sir or madam, when I see fit, in the pursuit of perspicuous thoughts or witty turn of phrase (well, according to me).
This does not negate the possibility of scientific analysis or the promotion of brutal logic, nor does it mean that I am lying to you. I will not deliberately, in fact, attempt to misrepresent my thoughts and beliefs, the contents of my brain. I will strive to entertain you and myself with a diversity of writings and scribblings that will include plenty of bullshit, art, pseudoscience, and invention.
Really, I am planting a devious honesty, professing to use an artistic license, and claiming fidelity to the use of a Borgesian approach to keeping your attention (What can I hold you with?). If my method works well, and you examine my words with microscopic care, maybe you will even learn something real about me.
As you, friend-follower, have undoubtedly noticed, I have a penchant for criticizing the human proclivity for illogic. As I have pontificated prior, we are feeble, defective creatures, with curiously disruptive effects known as emotions. Said overly-simply, reason, logic, and scientific representation of reality were the heroes and obsessions of Mr. Wittgenstein. They are also friends of mine.
Either way, I now have a prominent citation from which to defend my arbitrary outpourings on the theme of illogic (or non-sense). Perhaps Wittgenstein's word outplays my own modest term (which I picked up from Christopher Moore) when it comes to precision. Nevertheless, I do not and never have promised to be profoundly honest, realistic, or scientific in my writings.
What? Say you that this is contradictory with my past and pending statements on the all-importance of reasonable thought and the insidious character of illogic? Nay, I say to you. I turn now to Harry Frankfurt and distance myself from L. Wittgenstein. I promise to bullshit you, sir or madam, when I see fit, in the pursuit of perspicuous thoughts or witty turn of phrase (well, according to me).
This does not negate the possibility of scientific analysis or the promotion of brutal logic, nor does it mean that I am lying to you. I will not deliberately, in fact, attempt to misrepresent my thoughts and beliefs, the contents of my brain. I will strive to entertain you and myself with a diversity of writings and scribblings that will include plenty of bullshit, art, pseudoscience, and invention.
Really, I am planting a devious honesty, professing to use an artistic license, and claiming fidelity to the use of a Borgesian approach to keeping your attention (What can I hold you with?). If my method works well, and you examine my words with microscopic care, maybe you will even learn something real about me.
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