Vile and Vicious

Once upon a time (it was a long long time ago)
A little girl began to think that she would like to know
What knowledge is, how human minds communicate; she tried
To think 'bout what she meant by thought and then, annoyed, she cried,
"My God! These things are so damn Vague! These concepts are confusing!
And no one seems to know the meaning of the words they're using!


And A priori knowledge seems the bane of human life
While Analytic statements are the cause of all my strife.
Synthetic propositions seem so simple - well, they're not.
"Cogito Ergo Sum" My God! 'Tis such a scary thought.
I've torn my hair out in despair, I think I'm going bald
And yet I never seem to get what Berkley's theory's called!


And then, to make things worse, my Philo profs are so damn boring,
So every time I go to class I always end up snoring!
I don't know what to do or think - the Truth is so elusive
And so damn fucked up ..." here she got a tad bit more abusive.
But skipping over her invective, we can clearly see
The little girl was irritated with Philosophy.


And rightly so because, you know, philosophy's a pain
And wise wise seers have spent their years and energy in vain
In lonesome thought 'bout god-knows-what and just before they died
We often hear their last words were " I don't know why I tried."


But anyway, this little girl (who, I'll admit, was bright)
Was quite obsessed with all these thoughts - she thought both day and night.
She thought while sitting on the ledge, she thought while bunking class,
She thought while sitting by the jheel or lying on the grass.


She thought and thought and then she stopped and then she thought some more,
And then she stopped again and found she'd thought all this before.
And then, annoyed again, she cried, "Enough's enough. I will
Go meet the Sadhu Baba sitting high on yonder hill.
They tell me that he's really wise - he's wiser than his years
And wiser than his Ganja smoking, semi-naked peers.


Besides, I've heard - this sounds absurd! - that he's so wise a sage
That he's read that John Hospers book - each and every page!
If this be true - I doubt it is - then he'll explain to me
Exactly what they mean by thought and rationality."


So off she went to go and find this Sadhu Baba, she
Went armed with Hospers (first published in 1983,
Now in its 6th edition and with many more to go -
Exactly why I mention this, I really do not know).


While climbing up that little hill, she met a Giant who,
Though gentle, now (for want of interesting things to do)
Tried to vex her, wrote a poem 'bout her and a knight -
His rhyme was quite pathetic and his subject matter, trite.


Although I should elaborate, I really have no time
To tell you 'bout his lousy story and his lousy rhyme.
So let's just say she got away and reached the top and she
Now found the Sadhu Baba lying down and drinking tea.


The Sadhu Baba was so stout; he wore a two-piece suit.
Beside him lay a violin, a cello and a flute.
He smiled at her, she smiled at him, he asked, "How goes it all?"
She asked him, "Um ... excuse me, but are you the one they call
The Mystic Sage, All Knowing One, the one 'bout whom 'tis said
That he knows everything there is, and he has even read
John Hospers?" "Yikes!!" cried out the sage, "Oh God! Oh I'm so screwed!!
Are you another student from that god-forsaken JUDE?"


"Yes," she said, quite haughtily "'Tis true, I study there."
"Oh no!! Oh God!!" cried out the sage, now wailing in despair.
"Get away from me!" he shrieked. She said, "What did I do?"
"A week ago," cried out the sage, "I met a boy like you -
A creature come from JUDE, a really curious looking guy
With unkempt hair, a bulbous nose - we sat and had some chai.


He asked me 'bout reality; what human thought might mean.
I tried to tell him what I thought - he stopped me in between
And told me what he thought - My God! He just went on and on!
And bored me, oh for 5 whole hours, until I cried, "Begone!!
You stupid twit! You lousy lout! You're so damn dumb it's shocking!!"
He did not hear a word I said and he just went on talking.


My God! I cannot tell you what a painful day it was.
And he just went on talking all day long without a pause!
He spoke 'bout Berkley , 'spoke 'bout Locke, and what he thought of Kant.
I'll tell you what he said 'bout Hume ... Or maybe ... no ... I shan't.
'Tis far too painful to recall - he spoke a lot of crap
And then, when I could bear no more, I gave him one tight slap.


He paused and looked at me and smiled and looked around and said,
"The sunset here is wonderful!! The sky looks rather red.
The trees are asymmetrical, in fact they're rather small,
And have you seen a little baby caterpillar crawl
Up its silken thread? And have you got wet in the rain?"
On and on and on and on - My God! He was a pain!"


"Oh no," cried out the little girl, "I'm nothing like him, I
Shall listen to you quietly, I promise I won't try
To interrupt." "Well that's okay," the sage said," In that case
I'll tell you all I know because I trust your pretty face."


And so the sage came closer and he whispered in her ear.
He told her everything he knew - the wisdom of a seer
So deeply wise, she now possesed. He smiled because he knew
This little girl infront of him was now enlightened too.


And then she smiled and then she laughed and then she shrieked with glee.
She cried "Oh thank you! Oh so much! It all makes sense to me!
I understand what Hospers wrote - what knowledge is, I know.
I know just what they mean by thought, and that's why I shall go
To teach the world at large and when I'm done I'll smile to see
Each and every one become enlightened, just like me."


And so she ran downhill. She ran to JUDE. Her friends, she saw,
Were watching someone strum a 6-string, listening in awe.
She cried out, "Stop!" She cried out, "Hey!!" She cried out, "Guess what!!! I
Am now enlightened, hence I know exactly what and why
John Hospers wrote. I know it all. I kid you not, you see
I know what knowledge is, I know Epistemology.


I know (and here she used some jargon I don't understand,
But nonetheless the words were complex and they sounded grand).
I know it all! I know it all! And then I know some more.
I know why 1 + 1 makes 2 and 2 + 2 makes 4.
I know it all and I'll enlighten all of you today."
She paused. Her friends, they looked at her and quickly ran away.







You know, I met her yesterday: she's in a padded cell.
The doctors there, they tell tell me that she's mentally unwell.
I met her two psychiatrists and both of them, they claim
To know exactly what is wrong - the use a complex name.
I smiled and then I smiled again, pretending I agree
Pretending that their gibberish somehow made sense to me.


But all I know is that that little girl, she knows it all.
She knows what Rationalism is, she knows why people call
Locke, and Berkley, David Hume - Empiricists. It seems
She knows Pink Floyd and Sigmund Freud and what they thought of dreams.


She knows it all, she knows it all, she knows it all, and ... well
I saw her sitting down, enlightened, in her padded cell.