My officemate has lent me a book attractively titled “On Bullshit.” It’s a very slim volume, all of 67 pages, in the size of a mini-notebook which makes the P819 price tag rather steep. Having browsed through the pages, I think it’s a “bookshit.” Except that the author is purportedly a “renowned moral philosopher and Professor of Philosophy Emeritus” at Princeton University.
How apt for what am feeling right now.
What am feeling right now because bullshit is what some people do to me.
users & rotten ingrates will bring their stolen goods to hell or suffer from some perverse disease. Then I will no longer be the bullshitted but the bullshitter.
“Bullshit is unavoidable whenever circumstances require someone to talk without knowing what he is talking about. Thus the production of bullshit is stimulated whenever a person’s obligations or opportunities to speak about some topic exceed his knowledge of the facts that are relevant to that topic. This discrepancy is common in public life, where people are frequently impelled – whether by their own propensities or by the demands of others – to speak extensively about matters of which they are to some degree ignorant. Closely related instances arise from the widespread conviction that it is the responsibility of a citizen in a democracy to have opinions about everything, or at least everything that pertains to the conduct of his country’s affairs. The lack of any significant connection between a person’s opinions and his apprehension of reality will be even more severe, needless to say, for someone who believes it his responsibility, as a conscientious moral agent, to evaluate events and conditions in all parts of the world.”
To borrow a lawyer’s dictum: “Why tell a lie when you can bullshit your way through?”
Bullshit is about not making any sense. And sometimes, it’s all that matters in the world.