YSaC, Vol. 1726: I’m pink, therefore I’m Spam.
Good evening, and welcome to “Ask Mister Philosophy Person.” Today’s question on “Ask Mister Philosophy Person” is “What is the nature of the self?”
The nature of the self has been debated for as long as there have been philosophical debates, which has to have been since at least, what, last Tuesday? Something like that. Descartes famously said “Cogito, Ergo Sum” which literally translated means, “How much for this box of toaster waffles?” Later, David Hume opined that the self is merely a bundle of perceptions linked by causality and similarity. Also duct tape. More recently, William James divided the self into four parts: the material self, the social self, the spiritual self, and pure ego. Not sure why these waffles keep cropping up. Contemporary philosophers of the self generally fall into two camps, the reductive and the non-reductive, but keep fighting over whose turn it is to use the trailer hookup, since the two camps share facilities.
In short, the self is an illusive topic, about which we may never have definitive…
SELF – $5
Little dirty i can clean it.Email if interested.
Oh. Well, there you go then.
Thanks for the post, Elizabeth!
Little Dirty. That describes my self pretty well.
Oh look, I forgot to change the box for a couple weeks now. You can’t get good help these days.
Now I have to go see if anyone put the One out.
Sparky can clean it… but he probably won’t. Must be related to my children.
Can we ever truly reach a state of clean? Or as humans, are we by definition self-contaminating?
Once you realize that self is an illusion, let go of all of the knick-knacks, and clean off the dirt, you will achieve enlightenment, or at least $5.
That there self will hold a TON of ego waffles…..not to mention super eggos….Cousin Id will be thrilled…..
Leggo my ego. Repeat until you have enough Legos to build another self. Or perhaps a door. Ids will be checked at the door. Unless you can get the super to let you in. He’s kind of judgy, though.
That’s selling your self a little short, don’t ya think? At least consider your self worth some OBOs.
This self reminds me of my college days – those carefree days of youth. Yes, a little dirty, a little wobbly (from beverage) but basically stable, open, free of clutter…ah self.
How do you clean a self? Perhaps spiritual retreat? Something involving meditation and a sweat lodge? Existential spring cleaning, in which you divest your self of the scars, angst-ful memories, and burdens that have accumulated since you first became aware you had a “self”? Therapy with someone whose office is wallpapered with degrees and certificates? Reflecting in the middle of the night while changing a diaper on one’s decisions throughout life that led up to that moment? A relaxing Friday night with a cold one in your hand? A relaxing Saturday with fishing gear in your hand? Meditating on the existentialism represented by the picture of a piece of furniture not fulfilling its purpose? Perhaps merely examining one’s self with the question in mind “how do I clean this up?” is sufficient.
Whatever the correct answer, I’m fairly certain you can’t find help cleaning your self on Craigslist, and if you can it would definitely cost more than $5.
Everybody knows the best way to clean your self is with your tongue.
My self was a little dirty boy. Now I’m older.
“Everybody knows the best way to clean yourself is with your tongue.”
That’s what I tell my girlfriend, but she still insists I take a shower first.
I’m lost.
I’ve gone to look for my self.
If I get back before I return,
Please ask me to wait.
Solipsists Unite!
SELF – $5
SELF + $5
SELF > $5
SELF < $5
________
SELF = OBO
Don’t sell your self short there.
And be careful putting oboes in your shorts–double-reed splinters kan bê nasti.
Isn’t it illegal to sell your self? In any case, it’s more traditional to sell your soul, although I wouldn’t give Sparky $5 for either their self or their soul.
Obviously a self-made Sparky.
This is easy!
The answer is 42.
(For airborne velocities of unladen swallows, consult the interwebs).
Refrigerator.
I do enjoy the post-existential commentary provided by the appearance of what to my mind seems to be a vacuum cleaner attachment just in the bottom-left, standing as an ever-present reminder — rather like the pedestal proclaiming Ozymandias and his works — of the forward march of time and the ultimate yawning void which the self must succumb to.
Which is counterpointed nicely by the potential suitcase (I believe Potential Suitcase might be a Hitchhiker’s Guide filk group?) on the opposite side of the self, signifying the inevitable futility of mortal romance.
Hi, Astro! School must be out. 8)
Oh, not quite. Summer classes for me — which I thought would be all good fun; I failed to account for the distinct drop in the number of college-aged people who would be present over the summer in a city with eight (eight!) institutions of higher education.
I already have several types of self; I’m not sure if this would coordinate with the others.
Leggo my eggo! Can’t we all get along?
Ralph, you are such a loon! 8) And I mean that in a good way.