Sunday, August 02, 2009


Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951)


By Richard E. Noble

Well, here we are again, another in a long line of whacked out, out-of-their mind German philosophers.
His father was a head strong self-made millionaire, but little Ludwig would have none of it. He gave away all of the money his father left him. Ludwig, himself had a couple of minor problems in life. His first problem is that he wanted to be dead. He eagerly entered into World War I to try and get himself killed, but for some strange reason he just couldn't seem to get the job accomplished. I don't know why. He had three brothers who provided excellent example, all completing the task on their own and at relatively early ages. Second problem, which may have precipitated the first problem ... he was a homosexual. He was partial to big rough, bad boys. From what I have read of the man thus far, my guess is that, spank me, beat me, kick me were some of the sweet nothings that he liked whispered in his ear.
He stammered a lot and had a great deal of trouble in explaining himself. (No kidding?) He was confused ... all of his life. He finally got cancer (which was not self-inflicted) and died a happy man. "Tell them, I have had a wonderful life," were his last words. He was concerned with the interpretation of words, and we must get his definition of 'wonderful' in order to interpret this last statement. If he lived a 'wonderful' life, I have obviously been living a life of ecstasy without even realizing it.
Oh, by the way, he fought for Germany in World War I, and England in World War II. I would imagine that the fact that he was partially Jewish had something to do with that bit of indecisiveness. Being a loyal, faithful German and at the same time a loyal, faithful Jew probably explains why he wanted to kill himself. His failure in this regard probably tells us that he was more Jewish than German.
He wrote Tractatus, which is said to be only seventy-five pages long, and then later, Philosophical Investigations, which is, among other things, a criticism of the Tractatus. I really don't know if I should read the Tractatus, or wait until he makes up his mind.
The tragedy of Wittingstein was that Prozac was not invented within his life time, and from what I can see from perusing the spectrum of German philosophers, along with Fluoride, the Germans ought to consider Prozac in their drinking water.

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