libertango: (Default)
Back on [livejournal.com profile] akirlu's TAFF trip in 1998, Rob Hansen was kind enough to show us a tape of Bill Bailey he'd taken off the TV. The other day, I finally found out the name of the show -- Is It Bill Bailey?, which was a one-series, six episode thing on BBC that year. It's never been released on DVD or rebroadcast.

You can, though, find it in the torrents. If one were to look. I mean, hypothetically.

So, from Episode 5, at about 5:52 in, during a monologue I'll title, "Anyone Can Be a Philosopher," here's a gig that stuck in our brains:

*^*^*

I mean, you compare that, say, with Wittgenstein's theory of solipsism -- I mean, that is totally useless. And that's a belcher, as well. According to that, only I exist. Everything else exists purely in my imagination. I go out the room, you cease to exist. You go out the room, I cease to exist.

Now in reality, he meant it metaphorically, but hypothetically, let's take him literally.

I don't actually think he had any mates.

No -- I think what was happening was, they were going out the room, and for them, he did actually cease to exist.

They're thinkin', "Let's go down the pub. This guy's a nutter."

*^*^*

Thank you, internets!
libertango: (Default)
So, David Brooks is at it again.

(I know, I know... I just keep giving him ink. I should stop. But still.)

The Queen of Sheba is waxing rhapsodic.
"This is a good time of year to step back from daily events and commune with big thinkers, so I've been having a rather one-sided discussion about this whole Iraq business with Michael Oakeshott.

One of the most important philosophers of the 20th century, Oakeshott lived and died, in 1990, in England."

Let's leave aside what a mayfly career Oakeshott must have had to have both lived and died in 1990, yet still be so all-fired important -- I asked my resident former graduate in philosophy (who would be [livejournal.com profile] akirlu), "Does the name 'Michael Oakeshott' ring any bells with you?" I did that because I've become used to someone making a claim about how important their particular bug-a-boo is, and it turns out that in philosophical circles, they're little known, at best.

"Never heard of him."

I read Brooks' quote to her.

"Well... He's no A.J. Ayer. He's no Karl Popper."

It's gets better. Brooks goes on:
"As Andrew Sullivan, who did his dissertation on him..."


Hey, now there's a recommendation. Andrew Sullivan? Say no more, squire!

Next, Brooks will reveal... Your lover in Bolton!

Well, no. What he does is set Oakeshott up as a straw man, to say that Iraq and a Brave and Noble thing despite whatever Oakeshott would've said.

I'm not wholly sure why Brooks didn't just use his uncle Joe, instead.
libertango: (Default)
So.

I recently started reading Wittgenstein's Poker, by David Edmonds and John Eidinow.

And I was flipping through the new Seattle Weekly yesterday... When I saw that Mr. Edmonds is making an appearance at the UW... today.

This is Seattle, damnit. We take reading seriously. The author of the book you're reading will be along any moment now... :)

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