I need to keep a watch on myself. Starting Hedgehog Philosopher has had a destabilizing effect on my mental outlook. I was in a settled routine. So-and-so many emails to students per week, updating my web sites, clocking in and clocking off, coffee breaks, never in my office after 4pm, finding odd moments to muse about philosophy not so many as to cause any upset. I had to rake this all up again. Why?
I know it's not going anywhere. It didn't last time. When I stopped (after finishing my book) it was a good judgement call. Wittgenstein would have approved: 'The real discovery is the one which enables me to stop doing philosophy when I want to. The one that gives philosophy peace...'
But after a while a few years! you get bored. You start looking for new things to do. (Wittgenstein is a case in point.) Except that they're not new, they're the same old things. You just forgot, or allowed yourself to forget. How ironic that I should praise boredom... better to be bored, to let things be, watch the clouds go by as I say I'm so fond of doing. Huh!
No, this isn't me, it's my alter ego. Gershon Velvl. My 'Jewish name', I can't believe that my parents could have known what the Hebrew words meant when they chose them. They just looked down the list of boys' names beginning with my initials 'G' and 'V' and that was it. Job done. The clots! Or was it deliberate? My god, there's always that doubt... The stranger, the exile. And the wolf. Plato's and Pirsig's Phaedrus. Imagine my horror when I looked up the names in Google.
That was last year. More fool me for not discovering sooner.
What I want is just peace and quiet and pleasant dreams. ('He so wants to avoid all activity' it says in one of my school reports.) Philosophy can be a soothing pastime provided you know when to call a halt. But that's not the way this is going, I can feel it. I'm not in the driver's seat any more, I'm just here to report on Gershon Velvl's journey. (I just remembered a sketch from Eddie Izzard: 'You mean, I'm called Achilles... and I have an Achilles heel? the irony of it!')