Homeless Thinker on Logic

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Thought-dump: In this script, I try to let my brain take a dump from the big question that have built up inside me.
Quite honestly: I have so much to say on this, and so many possible answers, that I'm unable to say even half of it.
Too much to say, makes you speechless, in a way.
These viewpoints are partly mine, partly from my friends'.

Submitted: June 19, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 19, 2012



The weary homeless hobo lets the final car pass him, and walks across the road. His beard is untidy, just like his clothes. The city he lives in is pretty grey, at least according to himself. The only place in town with colours, is the park, where he spends most of his days, thinking about life, its wonders and the rest of the world. His master degree in philosophy didn’t get him anywhere in terms of career. A few years after leaving the university, he found out that he wasn’t built for physical work, and chose the life he has now.

He sits down on one of the many benches around the park, looking at the red tulips.

Man: Stationed the same place as always, friend. sits down next to the hobo.

Hobo: Hey dude, how’s it going? shaking hands.

Dude: Work as always, you know how the story goes. Aren’t you getting tired of the same bench? I’m sure it has a print of your ass soon! pointing with two flat hands, facing up.

Hobo: While the physical body remains, the mental mind journeys trough time and space, where no man has ever treaded. looking to the sky.

Dude: I just had lunch, and I’m guessing you had your mental lunch too? What’s on the menu today? rubs himself into the bench, getting comfortable.

Hobo: Speaks out What- and takes a short pause and deep inhale -is logic?

Dude: Oh, that’s a new. Logic is of course the tool that has been arranged for us to use, it gives a certain way of thinking, to something… correct, in a way. stopping to think. But that doesn’t really explain the god-damn whys you always love.

Hobo: Nope brings out the cup he’s been begging money with for the last weeks, hoping for a few kind souls to drop their spare coins with him in the meantime. It’s so damn self-evident. So incredibly, annoyingly perfect.

Dude: So it’s kind of like that. It’s a perfect way of thinking. Like a straight line. looks up at the sky.

Hobo: But why is it the straight line of thinking!? almost shouting out.

A woman stops, puts a few coins in the cup, and smiles.

Woman: Hey, what’s the topic of the day?

Dude: What is logic? saying in a grim voice, looking down.

Hobo: Just like now. Why did you give me money, thank you, just because I have an empty cup in my hands. I know I don’t have much, but why would I have that money? shakes the cup.

Woman: Just like you say yourself, you have little, so it would only be logical to give you something. saying with a surprised look.

Dude: But why is that logical? Both the hobo and the woman notices the dude tries to imitate the hobo.

Woman: Well she opens, tilting her head I suppose logic is some sort of programming in our head. Something up in there, just says: ‘this is logic’

Dude: But why would we care about logic anyway? It works, and we’re happy, right? looks at them both.

Hobo: Just as much as it’s a valid question in philosophy, it is also invalid. Let’s find an example.

He starts looking around. He spots a man in black suit, holding his suitcase tight to his chest with both arms. He’s jogging one direction, while periodically looking the other.

Hobo: That man. What would you think of him? Where is he going, why isn’t he walking normally, and what is he looking at?

Woman: I’m guessing he’s afraid of not catching his bus. Route 12 passes that road about now. looks at her watch.

Dude: That would be the most logical, indeed. nods his head.

Hobo: But why? Isn’t there a chance he’s going to meet somebody on that bus, or perhaps he had an appointment to meet someone in that car. A car pulls over in front of the man. How can you be sure he isn’t being chased by anyone? Crime-rates are high these times. The man doesn’t take notice of the stopping car.

Dude: You see, there’s the bus, and the man reached the bus stop. But what does that prove? looks back at the hobo.

Hobo: It doesn’t prove much, but I suppose we need our logic to have some pointer to prediction or choice-making. leans back, putting his gaze back at the sky.

Woman: The world would be better off without logic, I’d say. shifts her weight over to one leg.

Dude: Yea, logic is exactly what makes this world so boring. Everything works so straight forwards. Wouldn’t it be a lot more colourful around here without it? waves both arms.

Hobo: Wouldn’t the world be a lot more chaotic without it? You an anarchist? takes his look down to the dude.

Dude: No, but most things, like art, nature and emotions, aren’t logical. Logic is what makes things boring. saying, while pointing at the nearby flowers and graffiti.

Hobo: I hear most claims that art is logic. And our nature works according to physical laws. When it comes to love or other emotions… Puts his elbows to the knees, fixating his look to the ground.

Woman: Illogical things and acts, are exactly what makes love so beautiful. Last Wednesday, my husband came home with a huge bouquet of red roses, and made the best dinner we’ve had in a long time. ON A WEDENSDAY! With a joyful look, holding both arms up, to each side.

Dude: I’d say that would be a very logical thing to do after the fight you had on Tuesday. saying in a thoughtful tone, nodding his head.

Hobo: Good point. The big question remains: Why? Still keeping his weight forwards, he looks at the woman.

Dude: Only way to fix the mood after that fight. shakes his head.

Hobo: But why is that the only way? Who decided that? Who decides logic? straightens up his back.

Woman: Must be evolution, deducing from how you men would react the same way as my husband. looking at nearby trees.

Hobo: Sort of good point. If a beaver finds a tree, he chops it down to make shelter, but why doesn’t he make shelter by hollowing the tree instead? Why does every beaver do the same thing, often by the river? both arms extended forwards.

Dude: Survival. Just the way the beaver have adapted. I suppose the beaver would look at us and think: ‘oh my god, why do those creatures do so fancy things, just for a shelter, and why do they need so large space for it?’ extending his arms the same way the hobo does.

Woman: The beaver has his logic, and we have ours, in a way? everyone with their arms extended, and then letting them fall relaxing.

There’s a longer pause.

Hobo: Hard to know. Plausible answer though. gazing down.

Dude: Sort of the question that is so self-evident, or taken for granted, that it’s hard to explain. looking at his watch.

Almost as if waking up, the hobo notices that a small crowd has flocked around the three. His cup is almost full now. He thinks to himself: “The mental horizon extends with more than one soul today.”

© Copyright 2017 Zin Dar. All rights reserved.

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