twice two makes four is
an excellent thing, makes five is
sometimes charming too
But man is a frivolous and incongruous creature,
and perhaps, like a chess player,
loves the process of the game,
not the end of it.
And who knows (there is no saying with certainty),
perhaps the only goal on earth to which mankind is striving lies in this incessant process of attaining,
in other words,
in life itself, and not in the thing to be attained, which must always be expressed as a formula,
as positive as twice two makes four,
and such positiveness is not life, gentlemen,
but is the beginning of death.
Anyway,
man has always been afraid of this mathematical certainty,
and I am afraid of it now.
Granted that man does nothing but seek that mathematical certainty,
he traverses oceans,
sacrifices his life in the quest,
but to succeed,
really to find it,
he dreads, I assure you.
He feels that when he has found it there will be nothing for him to look for.
When workmen have finished their work they do at least receive their pay,
they go to the tavern,
then they are taken to the police-station —
and there is occupation for a week.
But where can man go?
Anyway,
one can observe a certain awkwardness about him when he has attained such objects.
He loves the process of attaining,
but does not quite like to have attained,
and that,
of course,
is very absurd.
In fact, man is a comical creature;
there seems to be a kind of jest in it all.
But yet mathematical certainty is after all,
something insufferable.
Twice two makes four seems to me simply a piece of insolence.
Twice two makes four is a pert coxcomb who stands with arms akimbo barring your path and spitting.
I admit that twice two makes four is an excellent thing,
but if we are to give everything its due,
twice two makes five is sometimes a very charming thing too.
From Notes from the Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky, first published in the journal Epoch in 1864.
It is well documented that when Winston Churchill spoke publicly in the House of Commons, he would have his speeches on paper 8 by 4 inches with a hole punched in the upper corner and a string through the holes to keep the speech in order.
The words would be typed out in short phrases that lent the words to pausing, hesitation and emphasis as Mr. Churchill delivered the speech.
Insiders referred to this style as Churchill’s Psalm form and once you know about it, you cannot help picture the prepared text as you hear the words.
Unconsciously or sub consciously as well as by design, I have adapted this style into my writing of short phrases and sentences.
I don’t know that I could write a paragraph if I had too.
The short staccato AP style of one line, one thought also lurks in my background especially as the news writing I did the most were with stories that were meant to be READ out loud by a reporter or presenter.
So ends my confessional.
Considering all that, I think this bit of Mr. Dostoevsky’s writing works quite well when read out loud in the fashion in which I present it.
But what is Mr. Dostoevsky saying?
And I ask this in a the latest edition of ‘In a World Gone Crazy’.
And I put it to you that as now, so little makes sense from what it used to mean that truly, twice two makes four is the beginning of death.
And that twice two makes five is sometimes a very charming thing.
But beware of those who tell you twice two makes five.
In the end, it always comes out four.
Boy, Howdy! but man is one frivolous and incongruous creature.
No Haiku For You 