Enantiosis

Enantiosis (e-nan-ti-o’-sis): Using opposing or contrary descriptions together, typically in a somewhat paradoxical manner.

“If the rock is hard, can it be soft too.”

Dr. Klaus Ruckfelder posed this question at the annual “Tormented Philosopher Congress.” In order to be eligible to attend and present a paper, one to have been working to no avail on solving a philosophical question. Ruckfelder had been working for three-and-a-half years on the hard/soft question. He had done things like dipping a rock in molten rubber, and then hitting himself in the head with it when it cooled. His “experiment” was received with derision: a rubber-coated rock was no longer a simple naked rock, solely exhibiting rock-hood. The identity issue plagued Ruckfelder. He turned to Eccliastes’ reference to stones: “There is a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,”

He argued that when stones (or rocks) hit material objects stones had characteristics of softness because material objects do not experience pain. Therefore the stones could be deemed soft, even though they cause damage.

His argument did not stand: it became philosophy’s stock example of “irrational drivel.” He had clearly failed again, but tenaciously continued his research. He followed the line of renaming dirt balls “rocks” and pounding them into dust. He realized he was engaged in “wishful thinking” and gave up on the renaming gambit after he read Shakespeare’s “a rose by any other name . . .”

He was now into his sixth year of working of the rock/soft thesis. Then, one day it happened.:

He had two rocks on his desk. One was was bigger than the other. He was sitting on his swivel chair and spun to the right to pick up his cellphone. His elbow hit the big stone and it fell and landed on his foot. He yelled “Ow, you bastard,” and swiveled back in the opposite direction knocking the small rock off his desk. It landed on his foot too and did not hurt. From this he surmised that relative to each other two rocks could be hard and soft. By introducing a relativistic argument into his thought, he believed he had solved his question: Alone, a rock is hard, but relative to another rock, it could be soft, therefore, a rock can be hard and soeft.

His argument was deemed “nitwittery” by his peers, and he once again was thrown into his vexing quandary. Then, it came to him in a flash of insight. “Eureka!” He yelled “The answer is no!”

Now, that he has solved the rock hard/soft question, he decided to spend the rest of his career studying paradoxes. He is currently working on the famous “New Jersey Liar” paradox. It goes like this:

A guy from New Jersey walks into a bar. He says, “I’m from Jersey City, and everybody from Jersey City is a liar,” The bartender says, “I could give a rat’s ass less. What’re you drinkin’ buddy?”

Dr. Ruckfelder was from Newark. He drove over to Jersey City and asked first person he met if they were a liar. They said “No!” and pushed him off the sidewalk.

As he drove back to Newark, he wondered what it meant to lie about being a liar.