MISTER POO

Sometimes people say to me - “Mister Poo - what is phenomenology?”

I always point them to the example of the toad in the bowl.

If no one is there to see the toad in the bowl - then does it really exist? Or is it just a malformed shit of the universal mind? With warts.

As so often happens, this raises more questions than it settles answers but that’s Philosophy. If you don’t like it - then get off the bus.

More phenomoenology tomorrow.

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If you need to find a toilet in London, you can now text the word “toilet” to 88097 and the local council will text you back details of your nearest public toilet.

They call it Sat-Lav and it costs 25p. Where there’s muck there’s brass.

Bette Midler said “When it’s three o’clock in New York it’s still 1938 in London” but how she must be regretting those words now as TECHNOLOGY and POO collide!

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Look at this big fat fucker.

David Hume was famous for revolutionising Anglophone philosophical thought in the 18th century by rejecting God and standing up to the church in favour of the new rationalism and empricism. He was also a big lad.

So, one fine day in Edinburgh - and Hume’s out and about in Edinburgh - acting the big fat philsopher cunt and generally lording it up and down the streets.
Due to his fat weight, he becomes unbalanced and falls into the mire at the Nor’ Loch, a lake which has been recently drained to make way for Princes Street Gardens.

Unluckily for him or, rather, because he’s such a porker, Hume can’t pull himself out of the muck. It stinks, and if someone doesn’t help him out then that’s where he’ll die: in a big pile of 18th century shit.

Suddenly, some common fishwives happen along and they go to help him out.

However they recognise Hume as the famous atheist and, being good Christian fish-hoors, they bargain that they will only pull him out of the shit if he converts to Christianity and recites the Lord’s Prayer right there.

Feelign the weight of his situation, Hume does as he’s told, and they pull him out.

So, a life of Philosophical rigour and fortitude undone in seconds by some Newhaven fishwives and a big pile of shite.

Mister Poo’s bottom line - you can be as smart as you want but a fat bastard is a fat bastard and that’s that.

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Mister Poo sincerely asks. Nietzsche says nihilism is a “will to nothingness” and should be opposed. He calls it the poisoning of the human soul.

What do you think he meant?

Could he not face a world full of nothing, as Depeche Mode put it. Nietzsche always urged man to higher things but where is he now?

Dead, thast’s where. And dead for a hundred years. So who’s the cunt now?

Should he have sooner taken it easy and relaxed in a hammock instead of doing all that thinking?

Or maybe he could have combined the two and thought about nothing… in a hammock.

I’m a lazy, Mister Poo Everything is already chosen for you. That’s fate.

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“The press, the machine, the railway, the telegraph are premises whose thousand-year conclusion no one has yet dared to draw.”

This is what Friedrich Nietzsche said and this is a picture of a sewage treatment plant:

Being the kind of dude he was, Nietzsche probably wasn’t thinking of sewage treatment plants when he wrote that but who is to wager that railways will outlast sewage treatment.

I ask you.

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Let us play a game. The prize is a million euros.

The first to guess what animal this poo came from will get a million euros.

Submit your entry on the comment form now - be the first to win a million euros - paid direct to your paypal account.

Mmmm?

Looks pretty fresh!

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Buy shares in toilets. It doesn’t matter what the market does - people will always need to poo.

Plus there are now golden toilets like this one that cost a quarter of a million Euros.

The toilet is called “Moscow” and its a far cry from the days where we used to shit in ditches

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Austrian 20th century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein was unbelievably wealthy and was the best-known brain of the early 20th Century, famous amongst intellectuals the world over. So why the mardy mug?

Well, old Ludo reckoned at first that the facts of science told us everything but, later on , realised he was just talking and it meant nothing, it was just words. Hence the miserable look on his face.

There again, the glum-ness could stem from the fact that an old school friend had become the brutal, Jew-murdering, master of Europe.

Perhaps its the fact that three of his four brothers committed suicide. Perhaps its the long list of Ludwig’s friends who also topped themselves.

Or perhaps his rejection of “facts” are the result of having just dropped a turd so big that he simply could no longer believe the evidence of his senses… a jobbie that broke the bowl?Maybe his face isn’t miserable - merely a little stunned and awe-struck?

Wittgenstein’s last words, despite suffering from cancer and enduring a life where everyone he knew killed themselves (and/or all the Jews in Europe)… Tell them I had a wonderful life.

So maybe it was that massive turd after all.

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Some people say to me: “Mister Poo - what is existentialism really?”

I can only answer in vagueries for that is what it was all about. If Descartes (a Rationalist) said “I poo therefore I am”, Nietzsche (an Existentialist) said “This poo is only any good because I made it”.

Later on, Albert Camus (a Frenchman) said “I am bored by my own poo. What to do?”

That question is still being asked in France today.

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Mister Poo was saddened by last week’s story about the woman who was stuck to a toilet seat for two years.

In this video we meet some of the people involved in this miserable case of neglect and terror.

Tags:   toilet seat · USA · VideoComment on this story by clicking here.