109 lines
6.0 KiB
Plaintext
109 lines
6.0 KiB
Plaintext
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_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
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| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
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| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
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| |________________________________________________________________| |
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|____________________________________________________________________|
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...presents... Pulp Philosophy
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by SHADESHIFTER
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5/1/1998-#353
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__///////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\\__
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\\\\\\\/ Everything You Need Since 1986 \///////
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___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___
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|___heal_the_sick___raise_the_dead___cleanse_the_lepers___cast_out_demons___|
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Just a little story about what happens to Socrates after he speaks to
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Thrasymachus in Plato's _Republic_...
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Thrasymachus had Socrates' arm pressed up against his back, and
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forced him into the center of the Agora. Thrasymachus threw him down, and
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tied him to the chair, which, oddly enough, had been waiting for them. From
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his toga, Thrasymachus withdrew his 9mm.
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Socrates' eyes widened. "Fuck! Don't do it, man!"
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Thrasymachus remained unaffected by the plea for mercy. "Are you
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finished, fucker?" Placing the gun an inch from Socrates' forehead, he
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knelt down beside him.
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"Look, man, you can have my ten yoke of oxen. You can have my
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virgin daughters. My pomegranate orchard. Anything. Just let me go,
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and I won't tell a fuckin' soul about this."
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Thrasymachus looked at him awkwardly. "You like pomegranates?
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Shit, motherfucker, I hear they got a fuckin' all you can eat special
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going on pomegranates where you're headed." He smiled.
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"Don't do it, man. Thrasymachus, be fair."
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This struck a nerve with Thrasymachus. He said, contemplatively,
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"Fair?"
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"Yeah. Fair. Think about my wife and kids, man."
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He removed the gun from Socrates' face, and sat next to him,
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frowning. "Would you say that to be fair is the same thing as to be just?"
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"What?"
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"Well, I'm just a dull, wandering street philosopher, so I don't
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quite understand where you're headed with your line of reasoning. Perhaps,"
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he began, as he motioned with the gun, "you could further elucidate your
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theory of justice."
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Socrates cocked his head to the side. "My theory? Of justice?"
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"Yes. You do have a theory on it, don't you?"
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"Well..." At the present time, he did not.
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Thrasymachus shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps, then, you'd like to
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hear my theory."
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Socrates' eyes brightened. "Oh, yes! Of course. You have a
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theory?"
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Thrasymachus sighed as he spoke. "Well, yes, I have been thinking a
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little about justice. Not, of course, so deeply as could a wise sage like
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yourself," he said. "But I've had a little idea, an insignificant, but
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troubling, idea. It's been bothering me a bit, and I thought that maybe
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someone as smart as yourself could help convince me that it is wrong."
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"Of course. Anything I can do to help," replied Socrates, not
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really picking up on Thrasymachus' sarcasm.
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"So you'd like to hear my theory?"
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"I'd be honored," he said.
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"My humble little idea goes something like this." Thrasymachus
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roared, "Justice is only the will of the stronger! What do you think about
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that, you sophist fuck?" Caught in the rage, he punched Socrates in the
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face, consequently breaking his nose and knocking him out of the chair.
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Socrates replied only with a few burbled sounds, as his face bled
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profusely, his toga undergoing a crimson transformation.
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"Come on!" he screamed. "Come on, motherfucker, you wanna try to
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disprove my theory, you weak little fuck? Yeah? Yeah?" Thrasymachus shook
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violently. "Shit, I think I feel a proof coming on!" He raised the pistol
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to meet the cowering Socrates, and emptied the clip into his body. "Why,
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thank you, Socrates. You've certainly opened my eyes!"
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.-. _ _ .-.
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/ \ .-. ((___)) .-. / \
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/.ooM \ / \ .-. [ x x ] .-. / \ /.ooM \
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-/-------\-------/-----\-----/---\--\ /--/---\-----/-----\-------/-------\-
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/lucky 13\ / \ / `-(' ')-' \ / \ /lucky 13\
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\ / `-' (U) `-' \ /
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`-' the original e-zine `-' _
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Oooo eastside westside / ) __
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/)(\ ( \ WORLDWIDE / ( / \
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\__/ ) / Copyright (c) 1998 cDc communications and the author. \ ) \)(/
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(_/ CULT OF THE DEAD COW is a registered trademark of oooO
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cDc communications, PO Box 53011, Lubbock, TX, 79453, USA. _
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oooO All rights reserved. Edited by Omega __ ( \
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/ ) /)(\ / \ ) \
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\ ( \__/ Save yourself! Go outside! Do something! \)(/ ( /
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\_) xXx BOW to the COW xXx Oooo
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