If I may use a crude simile for illustration, Wittgenstein posits that knowledge, or language, or science, is like a pile of cordwood. Each individual piece of wood represents a proposition that mirrors or pictures a fact in the world. These pieces of wood are neatly stacked on top of each other in accordance with the logical rules for concatenating propositions. This includes implication (for causation) and universal quantifiers (for scientific principles). The pile of wood rests firmly on a bottom layer of “elementary propositions,” upon which the rest are compounded. The nature of these elementary propositions is left somewhat unspecified, save for the fact that they are empirical. They could pertain to the simplest sensations (as in Bertrand Russell’s logical atomism), or they could be related to something appropriate to the subject matter (perhaps atoms, molecules, cells, etc.).

All that language can convey is what is contained within that woodpile. Anything outside of it is considered nonsense. Any part of that woodpile is logically founded upon the elementary propositions at its base. There are limitations to how high one can build the woodpile. This is all that we can know, neatly stacked up in this orderly pile of wood.

The most well-known consequence of this philosophical system is that certain areas of discourse are deemed nonsense. This includes philosophy, religion, morality, aesthetics, and so on. The traditional topics of philosophy are effectively out of bounds. We are unable to discuss the world as a whole, the relation of knowledge to the world, the nature of the self, and other such matters, because they do not form part of our woodpile and we cannot step outside of it to do so.

It is an elegant and beautiful system, and a theory of language. I will refrain from complaining because, within this system, I am unable to engage in any philosophy. As Wittgenstein concludes, “What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence.” I admire the beauty and integrity with which Wittgenstein articulates his vision, such that it becomes like a Zen koan.

One minor point before I conclude. The facts in the world that propositions are supposed to mirror seem to me to be metaphysical projections. They strangely resemble propositions, yet they are supposed to exist in the world. If I look out my window, I see trees and houses, but I do not perceive facts. Wittgenstein says many things about facts, enough to make me uncertain if I am making a valid point. He states, for example, that they are the logical structure which propositions and the world have in common. He also contends that one cannot speak of this logical structure, because to do so, one would have to be outside the woodpile. So I will continue to ponder in silence.

As a footnote, all of the above pertains to the early Wittgenstein of the Tractatus, as distinct from the later Wittgenstein of the Philosophical Investigations.

Wittgenstein makes it explicitly clear in the introduction of the book that those who have not already had these thoughts will not be able to understand it and should thus refrain from reading it.

This statement undoubtedly had a significant impact on the size of The Tractatus' readership.

However, I, despite not having fully had many of these thoughts, was absolutely THRILLED by the book. Its abstruseness did not deter me in the least. In fact, I was so enthusiastic that I would bring it up in conversations with absolute strangers. Needless to say, this affected the number of friends I made during that period.

Nonetheless, this book is an important one for everyone to read. It shows us how not to write prose, what truly matters in life (not necessarily what he specifically wrote about), and the value of thought. It challenges our perspectives and forces us to think deeply about the fundamental aspects of our existence.

Donald Trump's latest protestations about having to fight the "crooked media" bring to mind a famous passage from §5.62 of the Tractatus:

What solipsism means, is quite correct, only it cannot be said, but it shows itself. That the world is my world, shows itself in the fact that the limits of the language (the language which I understand) mean the limits of my world.

Donald, I truly believe I have a grasp of what you desire to convey. In your view, everyone else is crooked, everyone else is a loser, and only you are above it all. However, it seems that you are somehow incapable of expressing these self-evident "truths" except within the confines of your own internal language. How frustrating that must be for you!

Perhaps you feel that the "crooked media" is preventing you from communicating your supposed superiority to the world. But maybe, just maybe, the problem lies not with the media but with your own inability to express yourself in a way that others can understand and accept. Instead of constantly railing against the media, perhaps you should take a step back and reflect on how you can better convey your message. After all, if you truly believe in what you are saying, then you should be able to find a way to make others see it too.

An Unutterable History of Complete and Utter Stuff and Nonsense in Reverse

"Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent." Wittgenstein said this in 1922. It implies that there are certain things that are beyond our ability to express. Similarly, Parmenides, a long, long time ago (before 450 BC), stated that "Thou canst not know what is not - that is impossible - nor utter it; for it is the same thing that can be thought and that can be." This further emphasizes the idea that our knowledge and expression are limited.

Perhaps there is a hidden history, a history that is so strange and complex that it defies our language and understanding. It could be a history of events that never really happened, or of ideas that are too absurd to be put into words. This unutterable history might exist in a realm beyond our perception, waiting to be discovered by those brave enough to venture into the unknown.

As we ponder over these words from Wittgenstein and Parmenides, we are left with a sense of mystery and wonder. What lies beyond the boundaries of our language and knowledge? Is there a whole other world of complete and utter stuff and nonsense that we have yet to encounter? Only time will tell.

I had an extremely hard time pondering over how to rate this book. It was, quite literally, nothing short of amazing. The way it was written, the story it told, the emotions it evoked - all of it was simply outstanding.

However, at the same time, it also made me feel miserable. The themes it explored, the hardships the characters endured, it all hit me right in the gut and left me feeling a sense of sadness and heaviness.

So, do I recognize its genius? Yes, to the extent possible. I can see the literary merit, the creativity, the skill that went into writing this book. It is truly a work of art.

But do I like it? Only in the abstract. While I can appreciate its brilliance, the emotional toll it took on me made it a difficult read. It's one of those books that you know is good, but you're not sure if you actually enjoyed reading it.

In the end, I'm still not sure how to rate it. It's a book that has left me with mixed feelings and a lot to think about.

I skipped the entire part of the logical calculation. That is, about half of the book was just to read the key sentence: What cannot be said must be kept silent.

This decision to skip was not made lightly. I found that the logical part was rather complex and seemed to be leading me in a direction that I wasn't particularly interested in at that moment.

Instead, I was more drawn to the profound message in the key sentence. It made me think about the power of silence and the things that are better left unsaid.

Maybe there are times when we should hold our tongues and not try to express everything. Sometimes, silence can convey more than words ever could.

As I continued to read the rest of the book, I kept this key sentence in the back of my mind, and it influenced my understanding of the text in a unique way.

Patience is an essential virtue if you find yourself outside the realm of philosophy academia, just like me.

Wittgenstein's work is not the kind of light reading that you can breeze through. On the contrary, it is not overly heavy material either.

In fact, it is the strict and disciplined simplicity of his ideas that presents a certain level of difficulty.

The book concludes on a truly fantastic note. It could be seen as either an affirmation or a powerful blow to the field of philosophy.

I, for one, am still uncertain which it is.

Perhaps with more study and reflection, I will be able to better understand the true nature of this final statement and its implications for the world of philosophy.

Until then, I will continue to approach Wittgenstein's work with patience and an open mind, eager to uncover the hidden depths and meanings within his words.

I have an unwavering love for this book, yet I find myself at a loss when trying to explain precisely why.

Time and again, I find myself drawn to pick it up, and it truly defies any attempt at simple verbal definition.

It's as if the very essence of the book is abstract, existing in a realm that words struggle to reach.

I often find myself pondering over it, and the more I do, the more its intangible nature becomes evident.

How does one even begin to define something so abstract into the limited confines of words?

And the question remains: are words truly sufficient to describe something that eludes expression but can be so powerfully felt within?

This book challenges my understanding and forces me to grapple with the limitations of language in capturing the essence of such profound experiences.

It is a constant reminder that there are aspects of life and art that are beyond the reach of our everyday vocabulary.

Yet, it is precisely this mystery and intangibility that make the book so captivating and worthy of my unwavering love.

Obra, edición, introducción, comentario... Todo de diez. This concise statement seems to suggest that there are ten elements related to a work, such as its creation, editing, introduction, and commentary. Each of these aspects plays a crucial role in presenting and understanding a piece of work. The obra, or the work itself, is the core. Its edición, or editing, helps to refine and polish it. The introducción provides background and context, while the comentario offers insights and interpretations. These ten elements work together to form a comprehensive and engaging whole. They allow the reader or viewer to fully appreciate the work and gain a deeper understanding of its significance. Whether it's a literary work, a painting, a musical composition, or any other form of artistic expression, these elements are essential for its success and impact.

What the hell does it do to a son of a bitch. It took away my libido.

This statement seems to express a sense of frustration and confusion. The use of strong language emphasizes the intensity of the emotion. It could be that the person is referring to something that has had a significant impact on their sexual desire or drive.

Perhaps it is a physical or mental condition, a relationship issue, or something else entirely. Without further context, it is difficult to determine exactly what the cause is. However, it is clear that this person is experiencing a problem that is causing them distress.

It may be helpful for them to seek professional help or support from a trusted friend or family member. Talking about the issue and exploring possible solutions could potentially lead to a resolution and a return of their libido.

Logic is not a body of doctrine, but rather a mirror-image of the world. It is transcendental, existing beyond the realm of ordinary experience.

There is still much to be gleaned from this as I engage with secondary material, talk with my friend Elliot, and digest what I've read. However, I can use this space to present my fresh, unadulterated reaction.

Propositions 1-2 seem relatively systematic and rigorous in establishing an atomistic description of the 'world', with the existence of states of affairs. These make up the elements of 'logical pictures' that correspond to what they depict.

Proposition 3 introduces thoughts as these pictures, and propositions as the next important category. Expressions of thoughts in language must be articulated to amount to a 'fact'.

Proposition 4 builds on what has come before, with some complex ideas that are beyond my full understanding. However, there are interesting insights into everyday language.

Proposition 5 is the most challenging section for me, with discussions on probability, tautologies, and contradictions. Wittgenstein's views on identity and difference are also important.

Proposition 6 continues the exploration of 'truth-functions' and the tautological structure of the 'propositions of logic'. The idea that logic is the fabric of everything, like space and time, is emphasized.

The sections on math, causality, and physics follow, with Wittgenstein's views on the nature of these fields. The book closes with thoughts on death, immortality, God, and the rejection of Descartes and modernity.

Overall, there is much to take from this work, and I look forward to further exploring Wittgenstein's ideas in the Investigations.

I read it. The words entered my eyeballs and I tried my best to make sense of them.

It feels like I mostly failed in that endeavor. Essentially, at a high level, Wittgenstein is like “thoughts create reality, but there is an objective reality beyond the thought.” It’s kind of a top-down relational theory of reality.

Which, like, cool. I’m not sure I completely buy it, but I’m not able to really interact with that claim in a meaningful way. Maybe it's due to a lack of smarts, education, or knowledge.

And it does get slightly more complicated than that. As best I can understand, thoughts frame part of reality, in the way that a photograph snips off anything beyond the edges. Feelings bubble up through some process into thoughts, and those are filtered through language.

His pithy ending “Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent” actually seems kind of annoying after having suffered through the rest of this book. Like, of course you can’t type with something you don’t know about and when language fails you, you’ll be unable to talk about it. So, cool, thanks dude. How about this for a postscript: “if you can’t float, you’re going to struggle at the swim meet” or maybe one that popular culture is more familiar with: “if you can’t stand the heat, stay out the kitchen.”

Whatever, this book mostly went over my head and I’m OK with that. Do ratings mean anything? Probably not for a book like this. It's more a reflection of my inability to grasp the concepts and the opacity of the language than anything. But I left it going “that’s it?” Maybe it’s better in German.