the five stages of grief, Wittgenstein edition

  1. DENIAL: So die Welt ist alles was der Fall ist. Sure. Who cares? How hard can THAT be? This shit’s only 80 pages long.
  2. BARGAINING: If I only read the first four sections and the end and skip over all the gibberish and Greek letters what with the general form of all propositions, IT WILL ALL BE OK.
  3. ANGER: NO IT WILL FUCKING NOT. My brain is leaking out my eardrums, everything I have ever thought about anything ever is total bullcrap, I have no idea what Frege and/or Russell were on about and every time I try to find out I just get lulled into a coma by endless papers on things like "predicativity" which I PERSONALLY FOR ONE DO NOT BELIEVE EXIST, I hate numbers, I hate symbols, I hate logic, I don’t understand any of it, everyone will think I am stupid forever and ever and I am pretty sure I just ate a whole bag of chips.
  4. DEPRESSION: Nothing left to do but watch marathons on the Discovery Channel about ginormous Christian fundamentalist families (Duggars, I am talking to you, if the trans fats from your tater-tot casserole haven’t killed all eighteen-of-infinity of you yet!) and eat pie. If only I had some pie, but I don’t, and vegan fruit-juice-sweetened pie costs $5 for a teeny pie and plus, pie makes your ass big, so really I have nothing.
  5. ACCEPTANCE: Wittgenstein would WANT me to feel this way. He would WANT me to shut my head in the door after reading the pissing match between Cora Diamond and PMS Hacker, and he would WANT me not to understand the 5s and 6s because they’re gibberish anyway, so if I find them to be gibberish BEFORE I EVEN READ THEM ALL THE WAY THROUGH, then that means I am not even prone to the illusion of philosophical "deep nonsense" which means I am Cora Diamond’s true heir, which means I should really get some pie.

..which leads back to:

  1. DENIAL: So Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen. I’ll take the man at his word.

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