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|  DLW Registered Member
 Date Joined Apr 2003 Total Posts : 2457 | Posted 10/24/2003 3:07 PM (GMT -6) |   | Taken from www.Quodlibet.Net
Gather round my children as I tell a tale so frightening that weaker souls have fainted from hearing these very words!
It was a dark, dark, yeah VERY (!) dark Autumn evening when our story begins. As you trod down the barren street in the chill of the evening, you make out a lone figure slowly walking toward you as the wind whistles through the trees. As the figure draws near, you can see that it is a young man with a serious, brooding expression. Over his wispy shoulders is thrown a rumpled tweed jacket and a clumsily knotted bow tie sags eerily under his chin. Though clean shaven, his hair appears wildly unkempt and in great need of a haircut. His eyes are piercing as he glances at you through the round spectacles he is wearing.
You feel the hairs on your neck rise, as terror slowly knots in the pit of your stomach. Your instincts tell you to run but you stand frozen in his gaze. Your mind reels and you want to scream as you suddenly realize your terrible misfortune. From childhood you have heard the nightmarish tales, but now on this dark evening you yourself, my friend, have encountered the ZOMBIE THEOLOGIAN!
You try to flee but he ensnares you with the tattered briefcase he is carrying. You know what is coming next and so you scream and tightly hold your hands to your ears, fearing to hear what so many poor souls have attempted to endured before you. But it is too late, my friend. You see his lips moving and your hear his deep gravely voice, a voice like no other you've ever heard. His monotonous words hit you with an unearthly chill:
"From all this I propose to show that an infinity of essentially ordered causes is impossible; secondly, that an infinity of accidentally ordered causes is also impossible unless we admit a terminus in an essentially ordered series."
"NNOOOOOO!!!" you scream, jerking wildly, trying to free yourself from the ancient briefcase. "THIS CAN'T BE REAL!"
But this IS all too real, my friend.
You are hit with another terrifying chill as you hear the gravely voice continue: "And the reason for this is that everything of this succession which is in flux, is of the same nature and no part thereof can be coexistent with the entire series for the simple reason that it would no longer be part of the latter."
Your knees begin to buckle as you realize you must now escape or suffer this cruel being's eternal torture. At that very moment, in what you will later describe as divine intervention, you recall the tattered copy of Wittgenstein's "Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus" in your back pocket. As a drowning man grasps for the surface, you lunge and retrieve the Tractatus, hold it defiantly in the air and then watch the ZOMBIE THEOLOGIAN's gaze follow this newly introduced morsel. Forgetting about the six dollars you paid at the local used bookstore, your throw the Tractatus as far as you can while silently praying for deliverance from this horrible fate.
At that very moment, from the throat of the ZOMBIE THEOLOGIAN erupts the soul-shattering scream: "Logical Posivitists!!", and then his lurching tweed-covered body disappears into the night air in the direction of the sacrificed book. You stand quivering, sweating and yes, relieved.
You, my wise friend, are a rare survivor of the ZOMBIE THEOLOGIAN!
- happy halloween! scott david foutz | | Back to Top | | |
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