I think, therefore I am, said a man whose mother quickly <br />hit him on the head, saying, I hit my son on the head, <br />therefore I am. <br /> No no, you've got it all wrong, cried the man. <br /> So she hit him on the head again and cried, therefore I am. <br /> You're not, not that way; you're supposed to think, not hit, <br />cried the man. <br /> <br />. . . I think, therefore I am, said the man. <br />I hit, therefore we both are, the hitter and the one who gets <br />hit, said the man's mother. <br /> But at this point the man had ceased to be; unconscious he <br />could not think. But his mother could. So she thought, I am, <br />and so is my unconscious son, even if he doesn't know it . . .<br /><br />Russell Edson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-philosophers/
