At Philosophy Cafe

 CHAPTER ONE

Epictetus was a street corner Stoic philosopher in 1st century Rome. He recommended finding contentment in adjusting to what you can't change, rather than flinging yourself hopelessly against brick walls. 

Epictetus spoke from a porch (stoa), but today he might be a café or pub philosopher. There, customers might feel generous and hire one -- probably because they'd want to enjoy a debate, for everyone's a pub psychiatrist)?  The cafe's the new "agora" -- with many Socrates asking questions -- and not only "where's the washroom?", "do you have WIFI?" and "what's today's special?"

Those of the Stoic persuasion know that the best way to endure what can't be changed is with humour. 

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Knock knock

Who's there?

Agora

Agora who?

Agora tell you some philosophy

-- Hi, I'm your waiter today, my name is Hermen.

-- Herman who?

-- Hermen Eutics.

-- Ah, hermeneutics: the science of interpretation. Could you interpret this menu for us, Hermen?

-- Sure. Technically, deconstructing the semiotics, I see a list of food.

-- How should we measure its tastiness?

-- My advice is, don't put da sauce before Descartes.

-- What's your accent, Hermen? Where are you from?

-- Greece.

-- Which part?

-- Athens. I was born in da Agora.

      Me, I was born in da back of da taxi.

How was your Philosophy class today?

- -A bit ho-Hume. Do you ever think Philosophy's boring?

    

-- Of course not! Ask the barista at the counter there. He'll tell you! Go ahead, ask him a Socratic question.

-- Okay. Hey, Barista! What's the point of studying Philosophy?

-- Well ... it's fun. Yeah, that's the point: for the fun of it.

-- Who says it's fun? Doesn't sound fun. Sounds like a lot of work. Being wise and all. Like a scholar, or a monk. Like that guy at your counter there …

No, you're wrong. Philosophy's fun. Especially in a Philosophy CAFE. You meet such interesting other customers there.

                             I wonder whether that guy in the corner agrees?

                                       

As my colleague the Café Philosopher over there in the corner implies, wisdom is ancient, not innovative. Right, Café Philosopher?

Only one thing to say: opun your mind.

  That's all you got?

Yup. I never said I was a good philosopher.

I think you're just a joke.

Thank you!  Put it on my tombstone:  

"THE WISEST FOOL IS THE ONE WHO 

MADE THEM LAUGH"

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FEBRUARY 14th

It's Valentine's Day. Look! There's Café Philosopher down there on the floor. 

Lost something, Seeker? The Proof of your Hypothesis?

He's looking for perils of wisdom. Wisdom gets perilously lost. Like love -- Valentine's Day or not … The only thing you can count on is a glass of wine. So bring me another bottle, okay Hermen?

Haven't you had enough, Old Soak? Alcohol's not healthy.

Of course it is. Wine is grapes. Grapes are healthy. I'm drinking myself into a late grave.

Well come and get it then. Let's see if you can .

I can't. Someone will steal my table.

You don't own it, you know.

Yes I do. I always sit here. I put a sign on it: "BTF". BEST TABLE FOREVER. That was work, I put my labour into it and John Locke said that makes my property. 

Work on coming over here for your order. 

What if someone steals my table? You'd better Locke the door. Stop the Bacchus-Chat. Bring a bottle and we'll sing the Bacchus Song for Valentine's Day:

Once in a while

on some days' while-ness

after its will-do before its when-done,

we take a little wine, a swill,

a little evening sip and then

another little nip, again.

Careful, you say,

don't get carried away

at the end of this drinking Bacchus-day

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-- There wasn't much nous in that mousse, Waiter.

-- That's because we're the house of "nouse".

-- You're obviously a pedant who doesn't care about my judgement although I am a Food Reviewer, who could give you a bad review ...

-- Great, an illiterate journalist.  

   

-- … a bad review on X.

-- Oh no. I'm finished. Where's the hemlock?

-- You laugh, but the proof of the pudding's in the tweeting.

-- 

-- I agree with the Food Reviewer. AND your bite-sized snacks are only mini-morsels. There's nothing in them. 

-- Write a post then: a bite-sized thought.

-- I'll write a haiku: 

On bites miniscule

If you set the price high

I'll Basho your thick skull in

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 APRIL

 

HAPPY EASTER

-- Would you like to try our international Easter Dinner Special? It's Hegels and Lockes.

-- No thanks -- I only want dessert.

-- A slice of Apple Pi?

-- Something with fewer calories. I'm on a diet.

-- How about a frozen paradoxicle?

-- Perfect. Where shall I sit? Those café chairs look awfully hard.

-- The arm chairs have the sophist seats. 

-- Good. I've had a hard day.

-- You can sit next to the Prof. He won't bother you. 

 

                

-- May I take your Easter dinner order?

-- What's the Special of the Day?

-- Venison.

-- I'm a vegetarian. What's the vegetarian special?

-- Um ... There's only one special. Venison.

-- I can't eat that. But I want a special. Are you marginalizing, de-platforming and discriminating against vegetarians?

-- No, no. Heavens no. Wouldn't dream of it.

-- What Special of the Day can I have then?

-- Um … well … you can have the venison, because this deer was shot by Zeno's arrow which never gets to its target, because half the distance it covers is continuously measured as a number and numbers are infinite, so the arrow can't have arrived and the deer must have survived.

-- Oh. Okay, I'll have it then.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

SPRING

-- Hey Hermen, I'll have my usual.

-- Can't do it today. The cauldron's on the blink.

-- Oh. Well, a cafe au lait-of-lizards then. I'm working on a new philosophical theory, so I need to fire myself up. I'm wearing my thinking cap.

-- Looks like a witch's hat to me.

-- Well, I have to wear it, otherwise I'd be mistaken for a princess.

-- What's your new philosophical theory about?

-- 'Philosophy of the Occult'. I feel we need to shed darkness on some current social problems. I'm sick of opinionated arguers in the media. I'm working on a trick to make them disappear. The arguers, I mean. The problems are eternal, as the Stoics said.

-- Making any progress?

-- So far I've only figured out how to produce an instant power cut.

Hey, Madama Nocturna! What's that squirming in the pocket of your robes. Is it coins trying to get out, to pay Cafe Philosopher, free-lancer of forethought, for a drop of wisdom in your cafe-au-lait-of-newt?

-- Forget it, you silly old Sophist. Those are my kittens, Toil and Trouble. They hate being left at home alone. They're afraid Professor Schrodinger might break in and make them disappear -- or not.

-- Hermen said you can't bring them here, it's against the Public Health Rules.

-- That's okay, they won't get sick -- even here. I give them a healthy diet of herbs and newts' eyes. Who's that girl in the corner? 

-- That's Simone, she's working on her PhD in Philosophy. She claims to be a great-great-grand-niece of La Grande Weil.

-- She looks like a Skeptic. I never see her working.

-- She collects data by osmosis.

-- That's pushing it, isn't it?

-- Hey Simone, want to try some of Ma's fresh-baked data squares? Oh no! Look who just came in, it's the Public Health Officer. Quick, hide those cats!

-- Time for my power-outage magic trick --

-- (Brilliant! ) 

What cats, Officer? It's too dark in here to see the tables let alone any cats under them. In that box? That box is empty. Until you see a cat, it couldn't be in there. Must be dead. Or never born. Goodbye Officer, thanks for dropping by.

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MOTHERS' DAY

Thank goddess it's Sunday Hermen, "Happy Hour" day.

No food though, Witch. It's "Mother's Day", so it's Ma's day off. Today she's on the other side of the counter.

Lucky her, she even gets to share Best Table Forever with that tiresome old soak. Me, I've had the very mother of a lousy week, so a glass of wine without food is fine by me. Bubbly, of course.

Right-oh: glass of bubble for madame. Do you think you drink to overcome childhood trauma, Madama Nocturna? After all, you grew up with a lot of weird sisters.

No. I drink because I like drinking. You're such a nag, Hermen. Why can't Happy Hour just be an hour of happiness? Why does it have to be about escaping trauma? Whatever happened to uncomplicated pleasure? 

The therapy industry complicated it. What about your mother? Is she still alive?

Her spirit sure is. It haunts me, like it did when she was alive, always hanging around chanting spells and listing ingredients. 

Did she transmute anything? Does she still transform your world invisibly?

Nah. She was always under-bearing. Always going not far enough. She used to get depressed. She only read us one book when we gathered around the cauldron for a story: The Wind in the Wallows. Its sorry-for-yourself imagery still gets into my nightmares.

Her spells were a joke but not funny ones. She brought us up in the school of hard-knock-knock jokes.

You can tell me about it if you like, you're safe here, I've had sensitivity training. I had S.T. years ago.

How awful. Did you try antibiotics?

(sigh) Here's your drink: heaven plus hell in one glass.

Cheers. Which is better do you think, the heaven or the hell?

Too philosophical for me. I'm just the waiter.

But a Miltonian one. You don't fool me. "They also serve who only stand and wait". 

Yeah, great. Standing … waiting … 

You depressed, Hermen?

Nah, I'm fine. I get by with a little help from my enemies.

I suppose hell would be more stressful than heaven. Heaven would be relaxing, but the interesting people would be in hell, don't you think? The enemies.

Oh yeah.

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QUIZ NIGHT AT CAFE PHILOSOPHY

QUIZ NIGHT 

TONIGHT

Hi Hermen, what's that sign on the wall? What's tonight's special?

Don't ask. It's Quiz Night, so tonight, I ask the questions. 

Yeah? Well that raises a lot of -- questions. When does it start? 

What's the prize for winning?

Ask the Witch, she donated it. 

Choice of my famous Take-Out Deep-Cauldron Stew, or my 

BIG MACbeth special.

Oh yuck. Another incredible inedible. Maybe that frosty restaurant 

reviewer will write an article about you. "Poison Food Meets Poison 

Pen".

I beg your pardon, my food is healthy. No junk in my stew. 

It's not McDonalds, it's real Scottish nutrition. Try my BIG MACbeth 

before you banish my weeds to Dunsinane.

*

OKAY EVERYONE, GATHER ROUND. I, Hermen, will keep score, using the PYTHAGOREAN 

SYSTEM.

Oh good! Magic Numbers!

WHICH BRINGS US TO QUESTION NUMBER 1:

Would that be the ONE as in a monad as one unit -- or the ONE that contains the ALL?

Yes.

Okay, glad we've cleared that up.

So, NUMBER ONE: What did Pythagoras say to his enemies?

    

 A hypot on you's houses!

Correct! A point for the lady in the glasses.

TWO:  Why did the philosopher not cross the road? (pause)  No one knows? No one?? Obviously because he 

wasn't a Peripatetic.

(Groans.) That's just feeble.

Shush! I, Hermen the Judge, will be the judge of that. Which raises another question: Why did the judge cross the road?

 the road?

(Silence)

Because he has to see both sides. So there. Now, Number THREE:  How does the philosopher train her 

dog-ma to sit?

               She gives him a treatise

Right! FOUR:  How does a philosopher kill his enemies? 

                                 

                               He Aris-throttles them

Except for us witches. We can't be killed. Old witches never die, they just carry on stirring things up.

FIVE: Where will you find the Theory of Action? 

 

I saw it just Arendt the corner.  

No it's not! Hannah-me the map. …   It's not there. He's cheating, Hermen!

Nonsense. One point for him. Now Number SIX:  How did Epictetus travel from Athens to Corinth?

As a Stoic-way.

SEVEN:  Why does everyone laugh at Empiricism? 

Because it's Hume-orous.

Why does anyone laugh at any of this non-sense? Stoicism's about plain good sense, not quizzes. 

I should know, I'm the Café Philosopher. Stoic philosophy's about Deep Thought. 

Nonsense. That's a Roman idea, that's not the Greek way. The poet Lord Byron explained it best. 

He said "the taste for punning is a taste for Attic wit". Which means, of course, "Athenian" wit. 

If this is an Athenian café, why do you keep such a Spartan menu, Hermen?

Search me. Ask Ma.

Oh sure. I'm not suicidal. Might as well fall on my steak knife.

We don't serve steak. It's meat. It's not ethical. I'm an Ethicist. 

 

                                          You'll die of starvation, Hermen

Old ethicists never die -- they don't think it would be right.

   

  I'll die happy, because I won the Quiz!

No, you lost. I won.

But I got most right!

But "less is more", remember? I get the prize.

Then I quit! Why don't I get a prize? 

Because you're a score loser.

Calm down everyone -- we share the First Prize: the Big MAC-beth stew.

Oh great. Maybe I could die first.

For heaven's sake, Student, you're the gloomiest philosopher we've ever had here. Laugh for once. Have a side-split of fries.

He turns every Happy Hour into Schopen-Haur. Banish him from the Agora, Hermen!

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COMEDY NIGHT AT THE CAFE -- COMING THIS WEEKEND!

See Chapter Two 😂  https://justjests.blogspot.com/2022/12/chapter-two.html