Motherfucker Bertrand Russell

I’m gonna talk about the Russell’s Paradox and the motherfucker who wrote it.

What’s a paradox? It’s the ultimate question. It has been echoing inside you all along. You see a pretty dress and see yourself in it, next moment you wonder why that old man is so weak and then why the fuck there is so much traffic in Bengaluru, why are you breathing and what’s wrong with you because you are thinking like that.

Well, that’s what. We are in such a deep shit all the time that we don’t see it. We think, we are better off than the rest who are below us. We think it’s all good, perfectly fine, because every morning we see shit goes in the pot and then disappears, but with a clear understanding that we’re still standing on it, no matter how deep your pot is. In these delicate moments when you realise where you are and you crap your pants thinking, nothing has changed, it’s just more shit. That’s why Mr. Russell is the biggest mofo* out there.

On the contrary, I love the scientists, for a pure reason, that they get to be alone and think their way through life, sit back and make theories. I love the writers who were once stacked into their lonely cabins to get their inks flowing on the paper. I love normal and real people, who love their default states – union with self -> alone -> one. No one is the one, all are. We are a multi-set, all life on earth. We can’t be a finite sequence. We are entities of a larger world, a bigger universe or perhaps all the infinities that we don’t understand yet.

Now, coming back to the said Paradox. It states that a certain set R which is a set of all the set which are not the members of themselves can not exist because it crosses its own existence and not stands by it. Either can not exist, it has to be in both states. Hence, a humongous and massive existential crisis. Not even an arbitrary letter/symbol escapes it. We are so bound it. So fucking real and all the fucking time.

We want to understand our existence while we exist, isn’t it just enough to breathe and die? What can we do, when we can’t do. It’s turmoil, I feel it. I can pretend that it’s not shitty, because it disappears in the sunshine, because I am busy feeding myself to create more shit.

I am just an animal at the end, and I like to think – a better one.

So thank you, Mr. Russell for making me feel this way on a Friday night. I thought, like every other Friday night, shit will disguise itself into a shiny distant star and I will peacefully sleep looking at it.

 

Bertrand Russell transparent bg.png

 

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*No matter, I admire the crap out of him.

 

(I can’t understand why WordPress has such a depressing design on iOS application. I am switching to my laptop. Also whatever is this diction on wordpress, motherfucker is not highlighted as a spelling mistake but wordpress with a small ‘W’ is. Ha!)

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