A man goes into a strange town (at least it’s strange to him) and then he decides that he absolutely must have a haircut.
Now, why he should follow this path is not clear from the story as I received it, I mean I cannot imagine any circumstances under which I would consider a haircut as my introduction to a new locale—things like that need a lot of research as far as I can see, but that’s what we are lumbered with so I’d better go with it: so, so the haircutless man seeks his haircut, and is immediately presented with a dilemma (and there is nothing worse than having more than one lemma—-it’s more horrible than being spat at by an enraged llama or even an enraged lama, and I can assure you that the latter only happens if you’ve just ruined his koan), so this is definitely not shaping up to be an old joke.
And our man is still faced with his dilemma! You see this strange town, whilst otherwise somewhat amorphous and indistinct, is replete with a complement of two barbers. And these barbers are brought into sharp relief and high contrast—-largely to each other. And our man must decide between them. We may imagine him, in an almost Buridan’s-asinine state, torn between them, and all the time his hair is, we may safely assume, surreptitiously lengthening, and his need is growing.
Of course, as he realises (and realises probably fairly soon) he has merely to peruse his barbers-in-potentia to solve his dilemma, for it becomes immediately obvious that while one of them has perfectly groomed hair without a head of it out of place, the other looks hacked about like something the cat dragged backwards through a hedge, in fact butchered not barbered.
In conclusion to our story our man then confidently goes straight to the barber with the horrid hair, on the grounds that he is responsible for the neat hair of neat-haired barber who, in turn, must be responsible for the monstrosity: our satori being something, presumably, about perception and logic and not jumping to conclusions, though if you think about it, it does make some rather bold assumptions considering how little the man knows about the situation.
I mean it is quite possible, for example, that both barbers are equally excellent, but that the hacked-hair barber is a much better salesman than his neatly turned out competition and actually hacked his own hair about to catch the custom of just such casual, conclusion-jumping trade as is represented by our man.
@ davbart92663
A man goes into a strange town (at least it’s strange to him) and then he decides that he absolutely must have a haircut.
Now, why he should follow this path is not clear from the story as I received it, I mean I cannot imagine any circumstances under which I would consider a haircut as my introduction to a new locale—things like that need a lot of research as far as I can see, but that’s what we are lumbered with so I’d better go with it: so, so the haircutless man seeks his haircut, and is immediately presented with a dilemma (and there is nothing worse than having more than one lemma—-it’s more horrible than being spat at by an enraged llama or even an enraged lama, and I can assure you that the latter only happens if you’ve just ruined his koan), so this is definitely not shaping up to be an old joke.
And our man is still faced with his dilemma! You see this strange town, whilst otherwise somewhat amorphous and indistinct, is replete with a complement of two barbers. And these barbers are brought into sharp relief and high contrast—-largely to each other. And our man must decide between them. We may imagine him, in an almost Buridan’s-asinine state, torn between them, and all the time his hair is, we may safely assume, surreptitiously lengthening, and his need is growing.
Of course, as he realises (and realises probably fairly soon) he has merely to peruse his barbers-in-potentia to solve his dilemma, for it becomes immediately obvious that while one of them has perfectly groomed hair without a head of it out of place, the other looks hacked about like something the cat dragged backwards through a hedge, in fact butchered not barbered.
In conclusion to our story our man then confidently goes straight to the barber with the horrid hair, on the grounds that he is responsible for the neat hair of neat-haired barber who, in turn, must be responsible for the monstrosity: our satori being something, presumably, about perception and logic and not jumping to conclusions, though if you think about it, it does make some rather bold assumptions considering how little the man knows about the situation.
I mean it is quite possible, for example, that both barbers are equally excellent, but that the hacked-hair barber is a much better salesman than his neatly turned out competition and actually hacked his own hair about to catch the custom of just such casual, conclusion-jumping trade as is represented by our man.