Im Grunde glaubt niemand an seinen
eigenen Tod; oder, was dasselbe ist: im Unbewußten sei jeder von uns von seiner
Unsterblichkeit überzeugt.
-- Dr. S. Freud
Las ich auf der Sonnenuhr die
Worte:
Jede Stunde schmerzt; die letzte tötet.
-- F. G. Jünger
‘Tis often asserted, by those psycho-philosophically minded,
that, while we all of us pay lip-service, pro-forma, du bout des lèvres,
to the proposition that All Men Are Mortal
(that major premise which -- Socrates being a man -- doomed
Socrates)
yet we none
of us, individually,
can imagine our own.
We-elll I’m here t’ tell ya, that that is not the case, at
least for this philosopher.
I can quite clearly
visualize the circumstances of my
own personal hypothetical death.
I shall die (if I ever do die), in precisely one of exactly
three potential ways:
(1) Getting run over by a pie-truck.
(2) Falling down a manhole
(carelessly left uncovered).
(3) Getting bonked on the noggin by
an anvil plummeting from an upper
floor of a skyscraper.
So long as I stay away from these, I should be safe.
*
Für psychologisch
tiefgreifende Krimis,
in pikanter
amerikanischer Mundart,
und christlich gesinnt,
klicken Sie bitte hier:
*
"O Death" (Ralph Stanley)
"O-oh Death -- won't you spairrr me over till another year."
"O-oh Death -- won't you spairrr me over till another year."
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