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Ruminating for no good reason...
Saturday, October 09, 2004Another day of yard work. I like it sometimes because when it's you and the sythe everything is simpler. The woods around you are quiet, and you can think. Of course, being me, and being bored with pulling a long piece of metal attached to a long peice of wood (the secret to scything: keep the point moving forward.) I used this time, not to unknot my plot, but to try and remeber exactly how the Philosopher's Song from Monty Python went... Immanuel Kant was a real pissant Who was very rarely stable. Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar Who could think you under the table. David Hume could out-consume Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, And Wittgenstein was a beery swine Who was just as shloshed as Schlegel. There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't teach ya 'Bout the raising of the wrist. Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed. John Stuart Mill, of his own free will, On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill. Plato, they say, could stick it away-- Half a crate of whisky every day. Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle. Hobbes was fond of his dram, And René Descartes was a drunken fart. 'I drink, therefore I am.' Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed, A lovely little thinker, But a bugger when he's pissed. Permalink Cindy scribed this at 4:19 PM 0 comments |