Tuesday: The Badger and the Horse

The Badger has reappeared; last week he skipped town without telling us and left a young man of my acquaintance as a sub. My philosophy of mathematics discussion group met while he was gone and since he's the only philosophy faculty member in the group, none of us knew how to proceed in his absence. We just sort of puzzled over what the hell Kant is trying to say, and concluded that we'd ask the Badger when he returned.

So when the Badger asked me today how the group had fared in his absence, that's basically what I told him. He said, "Well, the Oracle has returned." What the heck, Badger? I am pretty sure I did not want to call you an oracle. If I was being obsequious I am sorry.

Last Spring one of my Smith professors commissioned me to do some comic strips about logic. We didn't discuss an actual dollar amount of payment, but it was very clear that money would change hands. The comics have been in his possession since the end of August and so today I emailed him and asked, "Did we ever agree on compensation for those comics?" He wrote back, "You suggested $x and I agreed. I will send you a check tomorrow."

I never suggested $x. I was thinking more along the lines of $x/3. $x is a lot of money. I feel very guilty about this, but I guess I should just be grateful. I'd have gladly done them for free, but he offered to pay me and I accepted. There's nothing wrong with accepting money for a job satisfactorily done... yet I feel so guilty.

The Horse was not as amusing today as he sometimes is, but he did deliver a few gems. He was talking about how, if you want to endorse a crazy theory like skepticism, you have to walk the crazy walk and never say you know anything or behave as though you do. You have to, when you're a juror, say to yourself, "Sure the witness says she saw the accused standing over the victim's body with a smoking gun, but how does she know? She could have been dreaming." Then you have to vote not guilty. And no one wants to walk this crazy walk, so they should not be talking the crazy talk, whether in the philosophy room or in the courtroom.

"Of course," the Horse went on, "there are plenty of people who talk crazy talk and walk crazy walk, and this won't be any objection for them. People like religious fundamentalists, who say, for instance, that all moral authority comes from the Bible, and any statements that deviate from this one interpretation of the Bible should be rejected as false, and who try to get you to believe their crazy views and try to pass laws to make you walk their crazy walk and so on."

And this of course was AWESOME, because there were at least four such people in that very room, including the cufflinks guy I mentioned before, who talked that very crazy talk to me the other day at the Spoon. I found it delightful that the Horse was willing to take it for granted that we're not crazy religious fundamentalists because we are doing serious epistemology.

Then just to cap it off he digressed, prompted by the idea of a smoking gun, "Or a smoking plug - that happened to me earlier today, I plugged something in and there was this big spark and smoke started coming out of the socket... but I was like the burning bush. I was not consumed." He paused. "But I did just consume your time with that story."

But the Horse can consume my time any day.

(That reminds me of one more thing about the Horse and then I swear I'll stop: I was at my friend Sam's house and we were talking about how people always like to sit in the same seat each class. I said, "That epistemology class is two and a half hours long. I can't pay attention for that long unless I am right up front. I need to be as close to the Horse as possible." I paused. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded," I said, but it was too late. "I am so telling [the Horse's wife, who is also my advisor]," Sam hooted.)