Humour

i Think, therefore i Am… Not, in the real world; i am in a complex world, with imaginary products such as the iPod, iPad, iPhone, iMac etc. – 2011

 

“Can we trade brains?” … ”You mean, can we trade bodies?”

 

A philosopher of Procrastination is too lazy to do his work, so he procrastinate by reading books such as ‘The Thief of Time’…

 

Pi, the transcendental ideal, romanticism out of the rational, rationalism out of the empirical, what would the following fellows say:

Looney-Ludwig Witters: It is the transcendental, the mystical, thus it cannot be spoken, so it shall be …passed on in silence…

Lord Berty Russell: No Wittgenstein, it is a member of the set of all numbers…

Pythagorsaurus: Ah this is going to get me killed AGAIN!

Plato-Pluto-Potato: The perfect transcendental eidos…

Oris-Aris-turtle: It appears that my syllogism cannot be applied…

Lao-zi: It is the origin of being and nothingness…

JP-Sartyre: It is being and nothingness…

Heideggerrrr: Es ist Da….da……da………DaSEIN!

Cartesians: I think; it lies somewhere on our daddy’s plane.

Poor-Old-Immanuel: It is indeed synthetic a priori…

David Hume: Cast it into the flames! Quick!

Berkeley (to Hume): No problem sir! No need sir!

Leibnitz: There must be a reason, what do you think Moses?

M. Mendelssohn: I think… Immanuel is wrong…

Arthur Schopenhauer: It is the will for it is transcendental…

Friedrich: Indeed, it is like a tree leaf, there isn’t the perfect form of the leaf just like there isn’t the perfect form of Pi, thus Pi does not really exist, the old Potato was definitely wrong, Germans definitely ate too much of it.

Levinas: It is the symbolism for our relationship with the Other…

Derrida: Let’s deconstruct Pi…

Moore: Here is a hand, here is a pie! Therefore Pi exists….

Chalmers-Charizard: But can we experience Pi?

Frankie J: Mary will remember all the digits of Pi… Maybe

 

  Act III Scene I Tracta-hamluts

To be or not to be, that is a tautology:

Whether ’tis words in the Tractatus I show

The senselessness of words we have known,

Or on truth tables for they must reveal,

And by analysis, end them:

To judge, to value, no Moore…

And by value, is to say precisely what cannot be said,

The most important transcendence, of life.

’Tis the mystical devoutly to be wished.

To judge, to value.

To value, perchance to see, aye there is the contradiction,

For in that valuing of morality what pictures may show,

When we have shuffled off this contingent soil,

Must pass on in silence.

There’s the absurdity that makes me brood of so long life:

For who would bear the Meaninglessness of a gesture,

The philosopher’s wrong, the language’s ambiguity,

The imperfections of this world, the law’s nonsense,

The stupidity of men, and the books

That empty merit of the pretentious takes,

When Berty himself might his introduction make

With a misunderstanding? Who would I bear,

To write and think in the freezing Norway,

But that the dread of Cambridge itself,

The brothel of apostles, from whose learnt

No intellectual returns, Puzzles the young,

And makes me rather bear those ills I have,

Than sail to a hell that I know well of.

Thus conscience does make cowards of me.

– Wittgenspeare

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Published on 23/01/2013 at 11:44 PM  Leave a Comment  

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