Socrates on “Pot”

What is the old Greek philosopher Socrates doing on the campus of Desperate State Univers­ity? you may ask. And how did he get there? And is this the real Socrates or only an imitation?

The answer to the first question is clear: Soc­rates is doing at Desperate State just what he did in Athens: being Socratic. Even death did not change Socrates; his philosophizing was indeed, as he hop­ed, “a rehearsal for dying.” How many of us have such job security even after death? In his Apology Socrates expressed his hopes that he would be al­lowed to go on cross-examining people even after death. Here he gets his wish.

As to the second question, how he got here, I have no idea. I awoke one morning with my head full of Socrates and I cannot shake him loose from any place I go, especially my place of work. You see, I am a college philosophy teacher. Socrates would probably call me an intellectual prostitute, a Sophist, since I get paid for it. Imagine selling wis­dom for a fee!

Finally, as to the third question, is this the real Socrates or only an imitation? Only you, the reader, can judge that.

However he got here, here he is — the wonder­ful troublemaker, the gadfly of Athens who makes difficulties everywhere, especially where life is too easy for thought or thought too easy for honesty. Here he is, the philosopher without a system, the question-wielding swordsman of the mind, the one infected by the oracle’s puzzle spreading his good infection, questioning, under the conviction that “the unexamined life is not worth living.”

Felicia Flake: Hi! Lookin’ for a joint?

Socrates: I am neither a butcher nor a surgeon. Why should I be looking for a joint?