Sunday, November 29, 2009


the first philosophical notion to excite me was bishop berkeley's that things were just ideas ... I simply forgot the distinction god's ideas or mine ... and when I was reminded of it it was my delight to escape to schopenhauer's garden of robust despair ... then hume and kant came by to confuse me and left an oracular wittgenstein and an impish ryle to sweep me from that garden of my delight and to flail me along the way with the logical rigor or formulaic symbols pointed and precise ... leibniz rescued me and gave me room to stay till one night in a monadic fury I broke the last window I had to look out ... solipsism sweet sensual sound found me at last ... and there I'd be still if history hadn't made me march ... well walk at least ... to hegel's tune quaker blanshard leading my way ... and I would have marched if that call came if history hadn't made me stumble now ... what right had history to interfere with philosophy I might bellow ... especially my philosophy whose plan it was to oil smooth the scratches and the wounds things like history feel they have to make ... what right to make sense common

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