I spent several months in Montenegro (its national motto is “let the impossible be”), deep in the interior, squeezed between the mountains and the narrow Kotor Bay. Every day, giant cruise liners would arrive, and the tiny town of Kotor would fill up with thousands of tourists. Then these oceanic giants would sound out their deafening horns and carry the visitors off to distant realms. Kotor would be left deserted.
I sat on the shore, gazing at the liners, at the sea, and thinking: according to the laws of probability, among the hordes arriving on The Euro Dam or The Princess of the Oceans, there were bound to be some who in terms of their intellectual abilities were on a par with Aristotle, Hegel and Wittgenstein. But I, sitting on the shore, didn't meet them, didn't get to know their thoughts; they boarded their vessels and, like the passengers of the “philosophers' ship”*, disappeared into the distance. I remained sitting on the shore.
All I could do was try and fish out from the sea those thinkers whose illuminations I was at least to some extent familiar with. But what should you use to catch Aristotle, especially there, where they believe in the possibility of the impossible? Brick, maybe? Which bait is most likely to catch Husserl's attention? Is it not a piece of cheese?