on the carpet
In the proposition ‘The cat is on the mat’, ‘the cat’ designates the cat, ‘on’ designates the relation of being on, and ‘the mat’ designates the mat: the proposition asserts that the first (the cat) and the third (the mat) in that order, are related by the second (the relation of being on). The fact that the cat is on the mat consists of the cat and the mat, related so that the former is on the latter. George Pitcher (ed.), Truth, p. 11
Michael Argyle, Social Interaction, p. 93
mea culpa
Michael Dummett, Frege: Philosophy of Language,
p. xii
tragedy of a Greek fragment
A fragment of a poem by Alcman, from Oxyrynchus Papyrus 2387 (Denys Page (ed.), Poetae Melici Graeci, 3, fr. 33). A row of asterisks indicates earlier/later matter that is missing; a dot below the line marks an illegible letter; a square bracket marks the point beyond which the papyrus on which the line in question appears is missing or totally undecipherable. cheese spread
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations,
I, 142
C. W. E. Peckett and A. R. Munday. Thrasymachus:
A New Greek Course, chapter 6, exercise 7, p. 123
Anthony Kenny, Descartes, p. 48
R. F. G[ombrich]
H. I. Bell, preface to The Abinnaeus Archive, by
H. I. Bell and others, 1962, p. v
J. O. Urmson, ‘Memory and Imagination’, in Mind,
1967, p. 83
J. L. Austin, ‘Philosopher’s Stone’
(review of Bertrand Russell’s Human Knowledge: its Scope and Limits), TLS 1949, p. 156
694. Someone says, with every sign of bewilderment’ (wrinkled forehead,
widened eyes, an anxious set to the mouth): ‘I do not know there is fog
on the road unless it is accompanied by an illuminated sign saying “fog”.’
695. Now I feel a different sort of excitement. I see in a flash a thought forming as it were before my mind’s eye – ‘This is at last the sort of situation which philosophers have always waited for – the sort of situation in which one as a philosopher can offer practical help!’ 696. Imagine that the motorist said: ‘The trouble is, I can’t see the fog for the fog.’ We might understand this as a request for practical information, and try to answer it by showing him the definition of ‘fog’ in the dictionary. To this he might reply: ‘I can’t see “fog” for the fog.’ We respond by putting the dictionary an inch in front of his eyes. Now he says: ‘I can’t see the fog for “fog”.’ 697. At this point a philosopher might want to say: ‘He sees the fog, but he does not perceive its fogginess.’ Ask yourself what could possibly be the object of saying this. 698. Now the man says: ‘I can see the fog perfectly well, but I don’t know that it’s fog.’ I feel an urge to say: ‘Yet you know it’s fog that you don’t know to be fog!’ (The deceptively normal air of paradoxes.) One can imagine his replying: ‘Naturally – it looks like fog.’ Or, if he is familiar with philosophical language: ‘Of course – I know that I am having fog-like sensations.’ And if one asked him what he meant by that, perhaps he would say: ‘It looks like what I see in places where I should know what I was seeing if it were labelled “fog”.’ 699. Now the feeling of dizziness vanishes. We feel we want to say: ‘Now it seems more like a dull throbbing behind the eyes.’ 700. Of course, one is familiar with the experience of seeing something ambiguous. ‘Now it is the Taj Mahal – now it is fog.’ And one can imagine having a procedural rule that anything ambiguous should be treated as the Taj Mahal unless we see that It is labelled ‘fog’. 701. The motorist replies: ‘What sort of rule is this? Surely the best guarantee I can have that the fog is fog is if I fail to see the sign saying “fog” because of the fog.’ – One can imagine uses for the rule. For example, to lure people to their deaths. 702. Still the man seems uneasy. ‘To be sure that the fog is fog because it is labelled “fog”, I must first be sure that “fog” is “fog”. Now, supposing, without its being perceptible to the naked eye; the top of the “o” were slightly open. How am I to be certain that it could not be accepted as a ”u”, so that the word was not “fog” at all but “fug”? Or how can I be certain that the first letter is really “f’ and not a grossly deformed but still meaningful “b”?’ So now we have to have a label for ‘fog’! And another label for the label of ‘fog’! 703. But we are not yet out of the wood! (Or, as one might say, out of the fog.) The motorist might object: ‘I still cannot understand. I see that the fog is’ labelled “fog”, and that “fog” is labelled “ ’fog’ “, and so forth. But how am I to know that “fog” means fog, or that “ ‘fog’ “ means “fog”?’ So we must qualify still further. We must expand ‘fog’ to read ’ “fog”, where “fog” means fog’. 704. Now imagine the motorist’s face. Imagine that the doubtful expression remains. Imagine that he says: ‘But how do I know that the expression “ ‘fog’, where ‘fog’ means fog” means “ ‘fog’, where ‘fog’ means fog”?’ 705. What sort of game are we playing here? What sort of language are we using? I am tempted to ask, what sort of man am I being used by? I have a certain feeling that goes with grating teeth, a frown, flushed cheeks. I want to say: ‘My offer of help is being abused.’ 706. One might try to provide the man with a mental picture, a working model of his position – as it were a map to enable him to get his bearings. I might say: ‘You are in a complete mental fog about the whole business.’ He seizes on this eagerly. He goes through the motions of assenting – nodding his head, pursing the lips, saying: ‘Yes, yes, that’s it exactly. I am in a complete mental fog.’ Now one asks: ‘But how do you know it’s a mental fog you’re in?’ 707. At once he cries: ‘NOW I see! I see that I don’t know I’m in a mental fog at all! I need an illuminated mental sign saying “mental fog”.’ 708. If a lion could speak, it would not understand itself.
Michael Frayn
Reprinted from the Observer by permission
… the two nostrils united in one nose … seem to convey the idea
of the union of the dualities …
how to fly TZARA. Nowadays, an artist is someone who makes art mean the thing he does. A man may be an artist by exhibiting his hindquarters. CARR. An artist is someone who is gifted in some way that enables him to do something more or less well which can only be done badly or not at all by someone who is not thus gifted. If there is any point in using language at all it is that a word is taken to stand for a particular fact or idea and not for other facts or ideas. I might claim to be able to fly … Lo, I say, I am flying. But you are not propelling yourself about while suspended in the air, someone may point out. Ah no, I reply, that is no longer considered the proper concern of people who can fly. In fact, it is frowned upon. Nowadays, a flyer never leaves the ground and wouldn’t know how. I see, says my somewhat baffled interlocutor, so when you say you can fly you are using the word in a purely private sense. I see I have made myself clear, I say. Then, says this chap in some relief, you cannot actually fly after all? On the contrary, I say, I have just told you I can. Tom Stoppard, Travesties
R. D. Dawe, The Collation and Investigation of Manuscripts
of Aeschylus, Preface, p. viii
Beecham, Sir Thomas – Conducts operas. Doesn’t like people to talk. Monica Redlich, The Young Girl’s Guide to Good Behaviour,
1935, pp. 79–80
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