[lit-ideas] Re: agnotology
- From: "Veronica Caley" <molleo1@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Thu, 21 Apr 2011 11:22:43 -0400
The reason I think my husband ought to remove the trash from the kitchen is
that every bit of food that comes into the house is shopped for, planned meals
around such, prepares same and serves it in an appetizing way. This seems to
me to be fair. All our other waste baskets are removed and cleaned by me.
He, however, is totally in charge of yellow paint.
The thing that I would like to know, but almost never do, is when I leave the
house by myself whether or not I closed the garage door. This however, is only
peripherally about knowing or not knowing. It's the consequence of free
floating anxiety. So, frequently, I leave, go a quarter of a mile or less,
turn around and look. Then, I know that I know. Am I still missing an "I
know?" I don't know.
Veronica Caley
Milford, MI
----- Original Message -----
From: David Ritchie
To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sent: Thursday, April 21, 2011 12:08 AM
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: agnotology
On Apr 20, 2011, at 4:11 PM, John Wager wrote:
As a general reply to the entire threat, not just RP's response, may I
offer the observation that marriage affects agontology greatly.
Just today, I have had the experience of being asked at least three times
if I'm sure that I know that I know that I (a) took out the trash, (b) was
careful not to spill any yellow paint on the cabinet fronts being re-stained by
my wife in the basement, and (c) called the man about the deck repair. Such
experiences are probably the most common example of whether just "knowing" or
having to "KNOW that you know" are more than just academic exercises.
And the answer in each instance was? I confess complete ignorance re. why
men always have to take out trash, why women should be experts in the
not-spilling of yellow paint, and why either sex (or gender) should be given
sole charge of that most critical of tasks, namely trying to ensure that a
sufficient trail of cheese and wine has been laid on the gravel path to the
front door such that repair persons may be enticed to come in.
David Ritchie,
realizing (thanks be to Geary) that his condenser may need cleaning in
Portland, Oregon
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