There was once a man who was very stupid. Each morning when he woke he had such a
hard time finding his clothes that he almost feared to go to bed when he thought
of the trouble he would have on walking.
One night he got himself a pencil and pad and jotted down the exact name and
location of each item of clothing as he undressed. Next morning he pulled out his
pad and read, “pants”-there they were. He stepped into them. “Shirt”-there it was.
He pulled it over his head. “Hat”-there it was. He slapped it on his head.
He was very pleased about all this till a horrible thought struck him. “And I-
where am I?” He had forgotten to jot that down. So he searched and searched but in
vain. He could not find himself.
What about those who say, “I am reading this book to find out who I am”?
🙂
There was once a man who was very stupid. Each morning when he woke he had such a
hard time finding his clothes that he almost feared to go to bed when he thought
of the trouble he would have on walking.
One night he got himself a pencil and pad and jotted down the exact name and
location of each item of clothing as he undressed. Next morning he pulled out his
pad and read, “pants”-there they were. He stepped into them. “Shirt”-there it was.
He pulled it over his head. “Hat”-there it was. He slapped it on his head.
He was very pleased about all this till a horrible thought struck him. “And I-
where am I?” He had forgotten to jot that down. So he searched and searched but in
vain. He could not find himself.
What about those who say, “I am reading this book to find out who I am”?
🙂