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25 août 2006 @ 13:50
Uncommon Sense  
My Dearest Friend,

I have just returned from the Kingdom of Norway. I can not recount to you the number of times, upon the deck of the tramp steamer bespeckled by sea-spray, that I gazed out upon the tireless throbbing of the sea and thought fondly of you and my return to the placid sun-drenched banks of the Raritan, the approaching warmth of which I could sense with each passing league.

During my tour of that cold country, with its innumerable fjords gouged out by the Creator's unforgiving hand, I happened to cross paths with a Norwegian philosopher with a most bizarre Angophilic temperament, which piqued my curiosity in the same way as would the sight of a palm-tree growing at the foot of a glacier.

He was very much enamored of the utility of common sense, that quaint sensibility which has been the source of a perennial and unjustifiable love among English-speaking men of ideas, and the Norwegian was surprised that I, a nominal American, would be skeptical of such an approach. I tried my best to explain to him that while common sense might be a perfectly good tool for deciding what to eat for dinner, or for repairing some simple device (a bi-cycle for example), its philosophical virtue was at best dubious, in as much as it is not at all obvious why one should think it a good idea to submit common answers to entirely uncommon questions; it goes without saying that my protests were not embraced in an altogether fond manner.

This philistine encounter only caused me to ache more profoundly for my return home and into the familiar company of unscrupulous intellects such as yourself. I do hope that we will be together soon, and perhaps enjoy, as is our habit, a little cognac by the sea-shore following a some nautical repast.

yours,
for-ever,
Mendaciloquent