Of course the word ‘randomnity’ doesn’t exit, but language is supposed to be dynamic, and so apparently is my eye.
I know, I know … doesn’t make sense, but you can’t blame me. Not really anyway. It’s a Friday, after all, and I spent most of my day horsing around with my workmate’s new Nokia Torch Phone Reloaded and pondering the Liar Paradox.
For those not acquainted with quack ancient philosophy, this is the Liar Paradox.
(I promise you this is not what the blog post is about. Exciting electrifying exhilarating stuff to come in a moment, so just indulge my insanity a little longer.)
“I am lying now.”
“This statement is false.”
These statements are paradoxical because there is no way to assign them a consistent truth value. In other words, if “This statement is false” is true, then everything asserted in it is true. But if what it says is that it is false, then it is false. Under either theory, you end up concluding that the statement is both true and false.
“This statement is not true.”
It “This statement is not true” it is neither true nor false and so must be not true. On the other hand it must be true because what it states is true.
Maddeningly fascinating stuff!
In 270 BC, the poet Philitas of Cos wasted away and died of insomnia while brooding about the Liar Paradox.
His bizarre death was nothing compared to Edward II of England who was murdered by having a red-hot iron inserted into his anus in 1372 or French president Felix Faure who died of a stroke while receiving oral sex in his office. And of course who can forget this week’s Most Bizarre Death involving Surinder Singh Bajwa, the Deputy Mayor of Delhi, who was kicked by a monkey at his home and fell to his death from a first floor balcony.
Useless info courtesy of Wikipedia, Free Internet and An Idle Mind.
Now for the Most Thrilling Blog Ever a.k.a Randomnity of the Eye.
Or not.
It’s like when you are going mad and you have to keep talking to assure yourself that you are sane. I AM going mad, but in a sexy, silent, broody way and have to keep taking pictures of meaningless things to stay out of Butabika.
So um … taxis … yes! I know they aren’t as flamboyant as the Kenyan crazies of old, but Ugandan taxi owners are trying to use what little leeway the law has given them to stamp their identity on their cars.
This one wasn’t on a taxi, but on the tyres of a lorry I followed down Ggaba Road.
Get a load of this!
Normally, I have no use for tools and machines apart from using them to reenact Chainsaw Massacre all by myself on those nights when I can’t go to sleep. But this shop renewed my interest in becoming a handyman. What’s the politically correct term of handyman? Handy person?
When I finally lose it, I will come back to this nondescript building in Katwe in search of this beautiful sunset to enjoy the randomnity of it all.
