Suurima austava kummardusega Luurele ja tervitustega Evale, kes avaldas soovi seda kuulda.

Monty Python 'Logic vs sex dwnld'

Lisan nii hästi-halvasti üles tähendatud räägitava teksti; andke mulle andeks mõned ebatäpsused ja puuduvad kohad. Kes aga vähegi suudab säärased puudujäägid tuvastada, andku aga teada.

Monty Python - logic vs sex
Good evening. The last scene was interesting from the point of view of professional logician because it contained a number of logical fallacies – that is invalid propositional constructions and syllogistic forms – of the type so often used by my wife. “All wood burns.” States S. “Therefore,” he concludes “all that burns is wood.” This is, of course, pure bullshit. Universal affirmatives can only be partially converted – all of Al Macogan is dead, but only some of classes of dead people are Al Macogan. Obvious, one would think. However, my wife does not understand this necessary limitation of conversion of a propositions, consequently, she does not understand me. For how can a woman expect to appreciate a professor of logic if simplest (missing adjective) syllogism causes her to flounder. For example, given the premise “all fish live under water” and “ all mackerel are fish”, my wife would conclude not that “all mackerel live under water” but that if she buys kippers, it will not rain or that trout live in trees or even that I don’t love her any more. This she calls “using her intuition”. I call that crap and it gets me very ILLITATED because it is not logical.
“There will be no supper tonight!” she would sometimes cry upon my arriving home. “Why not?” I will ask. “Because, I have been screwing the milkman all day,” she would say, quite oblivious of the howling (missing noun) she has made. “But,” I will wearily point out that “the activities of screwing the milkman and getting the supper are mutually exclusive – now that the screwing is over, surely supper may no logically be good.”
“You don’t love me anymore!” she will now often postulate. “If you did, you would give me one right now and again, so that I would not have to rely on that wretched Pakistan for my orgasms!” “I will give you one, after you have got me my supper,” I usually scream, “but, not before!” As you may understand, making her bang (missing verb) on the arrival of my supper. “God, you turn me on when you’re angry, you old brute!” she now mysteriously deduces, forcing her sweetly throbbing tongue down my throat. “Fuck supper.” I now invariably conclude, throwing logic somewhat joylessly to the four winds, and so we thrust about our milk-stained floor, transported by animal passion, until we sink back, exhausted, on to the gardens of yogurt.
I’m afraid I seem to have strayed somewhat from my original brief but in a nutshell: sex is more fun then logic – one cannot prove this, but it is – in the same sense that Mount Everest is, or that Al Macogan isn’t.
Good night.

TTE