Old Man in the House Full of Books to Lonely Child

I will tell you what I really think of your parents, and you will promise you will not tell them, but eventually they will figure it out and they will never let you come back here again, and then in a few years there will be an ambulance in front of this house and I will be dead, okay?  So I will just tell you rather than expecting you to guess.

Your parents are piss poor human beings. They are bad at taking care of themselves, bad at loving each other and bad at raising you.  That’s just the way it is.   They just happened to be that way, and if you expect more from them you will get nowhere.   Also your Mom has sexual problems.  Also your Dad treats you like a motherfucking baby.

You need to find other parents.  Most of the best parents are dead, but they have written books.

But your school which is also pure shit and staffed by power-mad, frightened neurotics, is teaching you exactly the wrong thing about books.

Books are weapons for you to fight for your freedom.

I cannot believe you are ten years old and have not read “The Worm Ouroboros”.  Go and fucking read “The Worm Ouroboros”.  Jesus fuck!

Read Bishop Berkeley, read David Hume, read Plato, if you like it read Plotinus otherwise don’t bother.

Read Theodore Sturgeon “The widget the wadget and Boff” and while you are at it read Maakies by Tony Millionaire.

Read Charles S. Pierce and get a thorough grounding in probability theory and some DECENT FUCKING EPISTEMOLOGY not the shit they are sneaking into your books at school.  And sure Machiavelli if you feel the need for politics.  Well you probably will.  So read Machiavelli and the Concept of Anxiety by Kierkegaard and Emerson and Thoreau and then read what you need.

I know at some point after I am dead (and if when that happens you feel sad or scared you might want to read The Upanishads and Tibetan Yoga and Secret Doctrines, or you might not — or Gerschom Scholem?  Maybe.  You decide when you’re older) you are going to ask

–well sure you can get a girlfriend why not?  I had eight children and two of them were not idiots– wiat?  where was I?

–oh yeah.  You’re going to say “I get that I’m locked in a room but why should I assume that my head is the shape of the keyhole?  What is the likelihood?”

What is the likelihood that your head is the same shape as the keyhole?  What is the likelihood you can change your head to be the right shape of the keyhole or change the shape of the keyhole to the shape of your head?

Did that old man trick me?  Did he waste my time?

You’re going to ask that.  I promise you.   You are a smart kid and not an asshole and you will ask that question.  And you will come up with the obvious way to answer it, obviously, as everybody always does.

Unless they don’t.

Anyway, go home and tell your parents I used bad words but I didn’t do anything bad to you.  And they give each other a look that they think you don’t notice and will think to themselves “As far as you know.”


4 thoughts on “Old Man in the House Full of Books to Lonely Child

  1. Mikey says:

    It’s been quite a while since I decided that the ad hominem is not a fallacy at all, but one of the only sensible ways to argue. The only way to talk to the child in this situation is to undermine the Old Man’s character. Who’s that child got? His parents, and the old man. Each of them make sense apart, but they don’t make sense together. If I were that poor kid I’d say to myself: Did that man smell? Were the pupils of his eyes all wobbly and weird? Does he have all-beige clothing? But I’d also say: Is my teacher neurotic? What’s that book about the worm again? What would happen if I pretended to believe that stuff about my parents?

    And while I was wondering all that stuff, if a suave looking guy who smoked and wore leather walked past saying to his girlfriend “…and what kind of a moron reads Kierkegaard? Hahahah…” I’d probably forget all about that Man and his house of books.

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