I was at the bar Firefly in Studio City California, and a drunken gentleman bought me a martini and asked, slurring his words only slightly, "So what are you into?"
I told him, "Speculative Realism."
He looked at me blankly, "Cool. What's that?"
I thought about it for a few moments and then started speaking very fast, "It's kinda like, you know, the young hip thing in philosophy right now. These guys, their like the Radiohead of philosophy, only they're not in the same band, Ray Brassierand and Quentin Meillasoux, they started this movement that's got a two-pronged critique of both the continental philosophy and analytic philosophy."
I swear to God, this guy looked at me an nodded, as if there were nothing strange about what I was saying, "Right," he said, solemnly.
"So its like...you know, in a nutshell...its like "transcendental materialism" that puts the continental tradition in a better position to engage with the evolving insights of experimental science. Like cognitive science, biology, and physics..."
"Sure. I love science." said he, without blinking.
"But at the same time its trying to ditch the analytical tradition's tendency to naive materialism. So I guess its an attempt to embrace a world indifferent to human knowing and human being, while still acknowledging the problem of epistemic contingency."
The martini was starting to kick in, my head was spinning, and he was still looking at me like he expected me to say more.
"I'm into this book by a guy named, Meillasoux. It's called After Finitude."
The man nodded gravely, "He sounds French." And then he did a shot of something. Tequila I think.
"Yes, French. A student of Badiou. You don't have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
"You're cute." He smiled.
"So what are you... into?" I smiled back.
"You. I kinda want to kiss you, right now." He said in a much more charming way than I would think possible. "What do think?"
I blushed. I balked. I searched for words. "I might have to consult Kant's Categorical Imperative."
"Don't bother." He said, leaning forward...
And that children, was how I , for the first time I ever, made-out with a stranger at a bar.
I think that whenever you write about philosophy you should mix in some sex.
ReplyDeleteI was there, three bar stools away. The part she doesn't mention is that during the entire conversation she was practically sitting in the guy's lap.
ReplyDeleteFunny. This post is all about you and all about sex. You don't seem to be following the rules.
ReplyDeleteThis post is G-rated. It's also about a night at a bar when three other people in the group were present.
DeleteDo we have to make a big drama about one email? You're taking everything completely out of context.
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ReplyDeleteWho was this guy who was kissing you? I'm going to go kick his ass.
ReplyDeleteExcept if he's bigger than me. In that case I'll just make some strongly worded threats and run away.
Except if he's bigger and faster than me. In which case I will just scowl at him from afar.
It was Peter Dinklage. Best keep your distance.
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