The truth

The reading I have been doing today about Ludwig Wittgenstein strikes the most calm of all souls. He was a freak, a cold and ruthless genius, an obsessive mind. During his young years he worked as a research student at Manchester University in Mechanical Engineering. He was a geek genius: at the age of ten, he built a sewing machine from scraps of metal and pieces of wood. This engineering, creative part of the man interests me, strikes me.

What was he looking for? What was he looking for during his life? He seems not to have been afraid to put his life into a great risk during the times of the Great War. But, what was he after during his life?

Was it the truth?

I doubt it. He was the most attractive, secret and sort of masonic professor in Cambridge than the walls of that place can remember, but I think he hardly was in search of truth. During his early disputes with Russell and G.E. Moore, the wife of the latter forbid her husband to discuss with Wittgenstein for more than 30 minutes. Even though Moore was champion of the so-called common-sense philosophy, I believe the title belongs entirely to his wife. She exerts the same kind of truth of common sense that the wife of Sancho Panza shows at the end of the first part of The Quixote. After so many adventures, worthy to be told in almost 800 pages, food for thought and ponder of so many illustrious minds, Sancho and Don Quixote returns, worn out and battered, the latter suffering from dementia and secured into a cage. Sancho Panza's wife, with a tremendous practical sense, simply asks: "where have you been, man? How is the donkey? You better it is fine!".

Wittgenstein has been compared, in his teachings, to the Jesus Christ. However, I think they hardly resemble each other, apart from the authority exuding their teachings. Jesus say: the truth has been conceived to the powerful and the profound, but has been disclosed to the simple and poor.

Oh, yes. Something that Wittgenstein missed.... The truth.

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