Fish, The Meaning of Life, and other commodities
Quotes from "The Anthology at the End of the Universe - Leading Sci-Fi Authors on Douglas Adams' Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy'"
Q: How many stupid people does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Eighty-one: one to hold the lightbulb and eighty to rotate the room.
Q: How many revolutionary socialists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None - The lightbulb cannot be changed, it must be smashed!
Q: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Well, the lightbulb can't be compelled to change, of course. I suggest we schedule a number of 200 pound-an-hour sessions, working through the talking cure until the lightbulb is ready to change itself...
Q: How many surrealists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Fish.
American philosopher Robert Nozick argued that "the question of what meaning our life has, or can have, is of utmost importance to us. So heavy is it laden with our emotion and aspiration that we camouflage our vulnerability with jokes." [He tells] the following story:
A person travels for many days to the Himalayas to seek the word of an Indian holy man meditating in an isolated cave. Tired from his journey, but eager and expectant that his quest is about to reach fulfilment, he asks the sage,
"What is the meaning of life?"
After a long pause the sage opens his eyes and says,
"Life is a fountain."
"What do you mean, life is a fountain?" barks the questioner. "I have travelled thousands of miles to hear your words, and all you have to tell me is that? That's ridiculous." The sage looks up from the floor of the cave and says,
"You mean it's not a fountain?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Nozick's point was, obviously, to make the reader think and question what manner of answer will satisfy us. Are we not dignified and significant? Perhaps the answer is no.
Let this be a lesson to all of you who are searching for meaning in life from pious Eastern persons. Make sure you call them up on your telephone first before you undertake such a quest. Or, better yet, check to see if he/she has a MySpace.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A man goes to India, consults a sage in a cave and asks him the meaning of life. In three sentances the sage tells him, the man thanks him and leaves. There are several variants of the story also: in the first, the man lives meaningfully ever after; in the second he makes the sentances public so that everyone then knows the meaning of life; in the third, he sets the sentances to rock music, making his fortune and enabling everyone to whistle the meaning of life; and in the fourth variant, his plane crashes as he is flying off from his meeting with the sage. In the fifth version the person listening to...this story [and] eagerly asks what sentances the sage spoke.
And in the sixth version, [he is told].
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Which part of this story [the author asks] is the hardest to believe?
The part about "the meaning of life being reduced to three sentances"?
The "translatability of the meaning of life"?
I think that people think too much for their own good, sometimes.
But then there are also those who do not think at all, via the Himalayan holy man. So! To those of you who read all of this...thank you...I've decided that I might like to be a surrealist. When someone asks me "How's life?" I can just say - "Fish."
That would be fun.
Yeffeth, Glenn, and Adam Roberts. "42" The Anthology at the End of the Universe. Dallas: BenBella Books, 2004.
Q: How many stupid people does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Eighty-one: one to hold the lightbulb and eighty to rotate the room.
Q: How many revolutionary socialists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None - The lightbulb cannot be changed, it must be smashed!
Q: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Well, the lightbulb can't be compelled to change, of course. I suggest we schedule a number of 200 pound-an-hour sessions, working through the talking cure until the lightbulb is ready to change itself...
Q: How many surrealists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Fish.
American philosopher Robert Nozick argued that "the question of what meaning our life has, or can have, is of utmost importance to us. So heavy is it laden with our emotion and aspiration that we camouflage our vulnerability with jokes." [He tells] the following story:
A person travels for many days to the Himalayas to seek the word of an Indian holy man meditating in an isolated cave. Tired from his journey, but eager and expectant that his quest is about to reach fulfilment, he asks the sage,
"What is the meaning of life?"
After a long pause the sage opens his eyes and says,
"Life is a fountain."
"What do you mean, life is a fountain?" barks the questioner. "I have travelled thousands of miles to hear your words, and all you have to tell me is that? That's ridiculous." The sage looks up from the floor of the cave and says,
"You mean it's not a fountain?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Nozick's point was, obviously, to make the reader think and question what manner of answer will satisfy us. Are we not dignified and significant? Perhaps the answer is no.
Let this be a lesson to all of you who are searching for meaning in life from pious Eastern persons. Make sure you call them up on your telephone first before you undertake such a quest. Or, better yet, check to see if he/she has a MySpace.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A man goes to India, consults a sage in a cave and asks him the meaning of life. In three sentances the sage tells him, the man thanks him and leaves. There are several variants of the story also: in the first, the man lives meaningfully ever after; in the second he makes the sentances public so that everyone then knows the meaning of life; in the third, he sets the sentances to rock music, making his fortune and enabling everyone to whistle the meaning of life; and in the fourth variant, his plane crashes as he is flying off from his meeting with the sage. In the fifth version the person listening to...this story [and] eagerly asks what sentances the sage spoke.
And in the sixth version, [he is told].
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Which part of this story [the author asks] is the hardest to believe?
The part about "the meaning of life being reduced to three sentances"?
The "translatability of the meaning of life"?
I think that people think too much for their own good, sometimes.
But then there are also those who do not think at all, via the Himalayan holy man. So! To those of you who read all of this...thank you...I've decided that I might like to be a surrealist. When someone asks me "How's life?" I can just say - "Fish."
That would be fun.
Yeffeth, Glenn, and Adam Roberts. "42" The Anthology at the End of the Universe. Dallas: BenBella Books, 2004.