josh blog
Ordinary language is all right.
One could divide humanity into two classes:
those who master a metaphor, and those who hold by a formula.
Those with a bent for both are too few, they do not comprise a class.
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Yesterday, I used my reason to realize two things:
1. Why towns have signs directing people to churches.
2. Why raincoats are long.
(It turns out that just at that moment, the driver and I were on a corner with a sign pointing at the church in question.)
A car drives up to me on the street in Decorah and the driver rolls down his window: 'You wouldn't know where there's a Catholic church in town, would you?'
'I haven't yet figured that out, myself.'
'Everyone who lived at that time, not being as wise as you young ones are today, found it rewarding enough in their simplicity to listen to an oak or even a stone, so long as it was telling the truth, while it seems to make a difference to you, Phaedrus, who is speaking and where he comes from.'
'Question: Can a philosopher actually commit himself with good conscience to having something to teach every day? And to teaching it to anyone who wants to listen? Must he not pretend to know more than he actually knows? Must he not speak before an audience about matters he can only safely discuss with his closest friends?'
Fear of engagement brought on by fear of disappointment is hardly limited to the record or book that is enough for now or enough for this but not ultimately enough; Phaedo recounts, of a devastating objection from Cebes:
'When we heard what they said we were all depressed, as we told each other afterwards. We had been quite convinced by the previous argument, and they seemed to confuse us again, and to drive us to doubt not only what had been said but also what was going to be said, lest we be worthless as critics or the subject itself admitted of no certainty.'
There is also, worst of all, fear of disappointment in people.