Monday, April 27, 2020

Not only at breakfast

Reading endangers stupidity.

8 comments:

  1. Endangers or engenders? Sometimes one, sometimes the other, sometimes both.

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  2. AH, that is true!
    I should have added 'good books'.
    - -
    Hm, then you might have asked: "And who is to decide what a good book is, Seanso?"
    Well, that is ... obvious, isn't it? ;-)

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    Replies
    1. Indeed, the definition of "good" is determined by the definer; and I have come to realise that may of the books I deemed to be good in my younger days may actually have done me significant damage. Reading should be treated with caution, not automatic reverential respect. It took me some years to realise how much nonsense is published, even in the days when finding a publisher was greatly more challenging than it is now. Words must be handled with care, eh?

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    2. As you are two heads or so taller, dear Don, will you please bow in front of me, so that I can kiss the bald keeper and developer of your thinking and your thoughts?

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    3. Hah... It's an awful mess in there you know... A good tidy up and clear out might help; but sometimes I get everything all neat and tidy for a moment and then wake up the next morning to find utter chaos again.

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    4. Ah, according to Nietzsche, only those with chaos in their heart (respectively head) will be able to give birth to a dancing star.
      Thus, let's keep pregnant, dear Don.

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  3. Yes! Not only the written words, but also the spoken ones, must be handled with infinite care and great gentleness.
    I wonder what Umberto would say about that. He was so intelligently and abundantly verbose in his books, and in person.

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    1. My problem, Claude, when interacting face to face with many people, is that I spatter out the words like uncontrolled machine gun fire before my brain has had a chance to decide on whether they are appropriate, or sensible, or diplomatic, or even helpful to my cause. A colleague and friend once said to me "You just never can resist a cutting remark", but at least he was smiling at the time, after yet another meeting where I had let my thoughts flood out through the always open sluice gates.

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