"It is impossible to completely purge the mind of the flying pigs concept."
Achilles: Not so fast. I'll tell you what, to make this a fair contest, I am going to start thinking about flying pigs. (Closes his eyes, concentrates.) There you have it. I am thinking about flying pigs, indeed, they are doing all kinds of aerial acrobatics: Immelmanns, roll-overs, and all the rest. And now, I am going to eliminate all thoughts of flying pigs. (Pauses and develops a wall-eyed look.) Done! Well, that was quite easy. All the flying pigs are gone. As a matter of fact, I am now thinking about crows -- very well dressed crows, attired in top hats and frock coats, and laboring over lapidary benches.
Tortoise: You may very well be thinking about well-dressed crows, but by your own words,
said crows are merely a construct you have invented for "not thinking about flying pigs".
Indeed, you said so yourself: "The flying pigs are gone". So by either deductive branch,
we arrive right back at the core of the matter which is the flying pigs concept. So, one
way or another, flying pigs are in your mind.
Achilles: Well, you are quite clever Mr. Tortoise, but I am cleverer still. (Pauses) I have rid
my mind of all ideas of flying pigs, and deletion of thoughts about flying pigs, and (if I
may add) all thoughts of well-dressed crows. So I trust that you see that your original
premise of "flying pigs ineradicability" is total humbug -- and now stands totally
demolished.
Tortoise: I appreciate your effort here, Mr. A., but, of course, your thinking about "deletion of F.P. thoughts", and deletion of said deletions, and "deletion of well-attired-crows thoughts" -- are all evolutions from a common seed corn, said seed being, of course, the irresistible and uneradicable flying pigs concept. So, at the bottom of it all, the highly mischievous flying pigs concept is still in your mind.
(Achilles seems quite chagrined by this latest response of Tortoise. As he concentrates on a
suitable retort, he is startled by a sharp pricking sensation in his back. Strangely, a large
Cervus canadensis has entered the room and is jostling our hero with its antlers. Tortoise as
usual is unflappable and merely throws some Drae powder in the animal's direction. The beast
immediately goes to sleep and starts snoring peacefully.)
Achilles: Why you're quite the master of animal control, Tortoise! What is that stuff and
where did you get it?
Tortoise: Oh, it's just a hypnotic I had made up at the chemist's -- I use it to drug elk.
(The thought that Achilles was looking for has now come to mind and he returns to the
debate.)
Achilles: I admit you had me going there for a moment, Tortoise, old boy, but my well-honed
Achillean mind is equal to the task. Since it is obvious that you are using the infinite
nesting technique against me, I offer the following rebuttal. ... It's child's play really, ...
I have stopped thinking about flying pigs, deletions of flying pigs, AND all nests, finite
or infinite, relating to F.P.'s or anything relating to the above. So there.
Tortoise: (Pauses, adjusts his monocle) Well, of course, your mental deletion of F.P.'s and
infinite nests relating to F.P.'s and so forth and so on, are merely another step in the
Flying Pigs triumphant march to porcine freedom. Clearly, all of your rejoinders drop
away when I point out that your entire discourse is rooted in "flying pigs". No matter
how many eloquent logical devices you offer, each such, is based on, or somehow
(ultimately) connected to, the flying-pigs concept.
Achilles: Nonsense! This has gone far enough. I am no longer thinking of flying pigs! Or
anything, period! Furthermore, I am not listening to you. Lah dee dah, dee dah ... Mrs.
Brown, you've got a lovely daughter ... Give me some men who are stout-hearted men
and I'll soon give you ten thousand more ... Lah dee dah, dee dah, dee dah ... Goin' to
Kansas City, Kansas City, here I come (dee dum dee dum, dee dum dee dum, ... dee
dum dee dum, dee dum dee dum) ... I can't hear you! (Achilles' voice has risen an octave.)
Tortoise: Oh, you can hear me all right, Achilles. Your effort to saturate your brain with nonsense tunes (a technique borrowed, if I may say so, from Ben Reich's desperate maneuver in The Demolished Man), fails for the very reason that we are having this dialogue. So, of course, you know, ultimately, that I, the Tortoise King, am readily able to stimulate your memory and call forth: flying pigs, deletions of flying pigs, deletions of deletions, deletions of infinitely nested deletions, deletions of uncountably nested deletions, failed
attempts to delete prior listed deletions, and so forth and so on. So, of course, I win.
Achilles: What are you talking about: "I win" ... what rubbish ...
-----------------------------------------------------
And so, at last, we must draw the curtain on the A.T. dialog.
For further installments, watch this URL.
Rev. 09/08/11