I should be working on a presentation on Husserl but decided to write this instead, or in lieu of Husserl, which makes no sense as he is dead, Husserl, yes he, the transcendent-ego that was Husserl, that ‘thing’ is dead, perhaps not he, the psychological-ego that was Husserl, but the other ego, the reflective one, the other ego, that ego that splits off from the other, other ego, the psychological ego. They say, the other phenomenologist’s, that the ego is a fluid thing, a malleable thing, a thing with malleable fluidity, and as such, as with most things fluid, it retains very little other than what appears immediately in front of it, the mediate world of things, sensate stuff, things and stuff that we take for granted, the intuitive things and stuff that we never really give much thought to, but do just the same. All the other, other stuff, the fluid malleable stuff, we do through self-reflection, and as such (why do we philosopher’s insist on repetitively using and as such, as if and as such is a philosophical term, which it clearly is not, and furthermore, quite annoying to the everyman, or woman, as would have it, as such). Okay here goes again; I should be working on a presentation on Edmund Husserl, the father of phenomenology, the big cohune, which makes no sense, as a cohune is a Central American palm with feathery leaves that produces a nut yielding an oil similar to coconut oil, often used in soaps and cosmetics. Latin name: Orbignya cohune. Some phenomenologist I turned out to be. Oh well there you have it, it’s all in the appearance, and as such, banal-retentive.
