"I would like to say 'This book is written to the glory of God', but nowadays this would be the trick of a cheat, i.e., it would not be correctly understood."--Ludwig Wittgenstein
"OH JESUS OH WHAT THE FUCK OH WHAT IS THIS H.P. LOVECRAFT SHIT OH THERE IS NO GOD I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS—Popehat
Ah, Paul Harvey. Such mixed feelings. Babbitry, yes, but what a stylist!
It was in the summer of 1976, I was working ten hours a day as a rodman--the surveyor's assistant--at Bradley's Bulldozer Service, in rural North Texas, and by night struggling through Being and Time, in preparation for writing a senior honors thesis in philosophy.
It was while riding down a dusty, almost-two-lane back road in a pick-up that I heard the following, in that inimitable staccato: "Martin Heidegger...German existentialist philosopher....DEAD!" That was it.
I rather doubt that Mr. Harvey had any detailed notion of "das Sein zum Tode." But I thought it was the perfect form of obituary.
Paul Harvey, I thought I was free of that New Speak Babbitt when he died. Stand by for ooze.
ReplyDeleteThe original really drive me up a wall. Bathos in the service of commerce is never a good mix.
ReplyDeleteThis was an antidote.
Ah, Paul Harvey. Such mixed feelings. Babbitry, yes, but what a stylist!
ReplyDeleteIt was in the summer of 1976, I was working ten hours a day as a rodman--the surveyor's assistant--at Bradley's Bulldozer Service, in rural North Texas, and by night struggling through Being and Time, in preparation for writing a senior honors thesis in philosophy.
It was while riding down a dusty, almost-two-lane back road in a pick-up that I heard the following, in that inimitable staccato: "Martin Heidegger...German existentialist philosopher....DEAD!" That was it.
I rather doubt that Mr. Harvey had any detailed notion of "das Sein zum Tode." But I thought it was the perfect form of obituary.