Vol. 3 Chap. 11 Introspection

Vol. 3 Chap. 11 Introspection

Truth dreamed he was sitting in a small room, an office lined with books of mathematics and red-jacketed books of philosophy, heaps of papers on the desk, and heaps more in the rubbish bin on the floor. He was wearing a suit and tie. The Professor was too.

The Professor’s hair would only feign obedience to the hairbrush, flying away when unattended. The hair was wiry, white with that unfortunate tinge of yellow to it that made one wonder if it was the final echo of natural color or if the Professor’s pipe had permanently stained it with nicotine. The Professor was old, of course, but he gave one the impression of always having been old. Yet there was something to that flat, wide mouth and those eyes that were slightly too large for his face. Some mischief. Some sense of fun. This old man still loved life and was far from done with it.

“While I naturally applaud your desire to study modern and rigorously reasoned philosophy, I must discourage you from becoming my pupil. Or, indeed, even auditing my class. At least until you have the proper foundation in maths.”

“I can do long division in my head.” Truth aimed for humor and missed by a mile.

“Wonderful. I am so glad you mastered arithmetic. When do you think you will learn maths?”

“Well, that’s why I want to learn philosophy from you. I keep running into these... I don’t know what to call them. Given your specialty, I hesitate to call them “logic problems,” but that’s the best term I can use for them.

The Professor snorted. “I assure you, I call them logic problems too. And see far more of them than you do. Continue.”

“Well, the Stoics, for example, or Hobbes. Some very good advice for living, some wise observations. But then you run into issues like slavery, or women, or the fact that their philosophies claim to be based on a plainly wrong understanding of physics-”

The Professor nodded understandingly. “To say nothing of Plato and Aristotle, who did more between them to harm the development of rational thought and scientific development in the West than almost any other two people I could name. Plato badly harmed the Orient as well, even more than he damaged the West. Poor devils.”

“Right, or more recently Nietzsche and Schopenhauer... while they make some interesting observations...”

“Hold together about as well under logical analysis as the proverbial dandelion in a hurricane. Yes, I have written an entire book on the subject and endless monographs. But this is just the thing- in order to reach the truth, not some airy, fanciful “higher truth” or “personal truth,” but real, repeatable, verifiable, provable truth, your tool must be analysis. It must be logic. And if that is so, then you must understand mathematics. Real mathematics, not arithmetic.” The Professor’s lips quirked. Apparently, he found his statement a little funny. Truth didn’t get the joke and pressed on.

“But how do you get from mathematics to, say, ethics?”

“By strange coincidence, I teach an entire course on the subject. It seems that you would benefit from it. Once you have the proper foundation.”

“Professor!”

“Young man, I think you and I can agree that two and two is four.”

“Certainly.”

“Why?”

“Pardon?”

“Why is two and two four?”

“Well... it is. I hold up two fingers, then another two fingers, and now I have four fingers.”

“Oh? What’s a finger? For that matter, what’s “two?” How do you define it? Can you define it without reference to something outside the concept of “two?” Can “two” prove itself? You understand we are still a long way from the thorny question (happily resolved now, you will be glad to know) of defining addition and demonstrating by logic that it does work as you think it does.”

The Professor leaned in, wide mouth faintly curving up into the sly hint of a smile. “Ethics then. Can you define “good?”

Truth rolled his eyes at that one. “I can’t. And I have read endless proposed definitions, most of them contradictory.” The Professor nodded at that, the grin widening.

Yeah. Of course, that’s assuming that those people who did figure it out weren’t shut up somehow.

>

Truth sat up, ignoring the suddenly angry aches across his body. You did? What did you see?

>

Wait, what? Really? Show me.

>

Truth looked wildly around the numinous, mystic land of his soul and saw exactly dick all.

You are pointing right now, aren’t you? Even though you know I can’t see you.

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You bastard.

>

Me either. Don’t care, won’t care, where’s the damn nous?

> The System showed it was trying by not tacking on the words “you moron” even though they both knew it was thinking that. It’s the literal intersection of mind and soul, meaning it’s the part of your soul that overlaps with your mind the way the body overlaps with the soul. Which would logically mean that...>>

The System waited. And waited.

>

I have no damn idea what you are talking about.

>

Yes. Mostly because I have come back around to enjoying your suffering.

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You know what I haven’t had in ages? A full Jeon breakfast. Get some eggs, rice, toppings, fermented cabbage, and a bowl of soup. Get the whole spread.

>

Truth paused for a moment, reflecting on that. He almost wanted to applaud.

Well, whatever. We have a lot to figure out today, and I’ll do it all the better on a full stomach. Truth helped himself to some of De’Ponte’s cash, then went out for breakfast.