Nine: For the Lost Cause

I forgot about posting the story. I was just so relieved to have the damn thing finished, that I thought there was nothing else to be done. I apologize to those who waited anxiously, wondering what was to become of our dear friend Damien. This is page nine, and page ten will finish the story tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

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The loss of the player did not stop the discussion, which was slowly growing into a debate: Darius’s constant attempts to join the conversation were soon rewarded. The professors began to pay attention.

"I think Popper sufficiently shut down the Vienna Circle," Darius licked his lips in anticipation, "because Wittgenstein’s theories had no basis in reality, in science." He stressed the last word with the air of academia. The two professors balked. They had never heard such blasphemy.

"Popper was a megalomaniac, he just wanted to take credit for bringing down the Vienna Circle. Anyone with any background in analytical philosophy could have saw through some of the faulty theories of the Vienna Circle." This was probably the professor who told the Hume joke; he was bald, stocky, with bushy eye-brows and circular spectacles. He was something of a spectacle himself.

Damien started to lose interest in the card game, but he could not follow the discussion. Damien was also sufficiently up in chips, having just taken out the kid and having three of the players just continually blinded off. Darius would occasionally play a hand or two, but he would back out at any bet. Darius’s client would basically give the affect of listening, but he too was bored, and he was significantly down in chips. Damien thought it was time to take him out. After a few more hands, the discussion turned to the debate that had occurred on October 25, 1946.

"It’s clear that Wittgenstein won the debate. He was the better man: he walked out."

"The only reason Wittgenstein left is because he couldn’t take being proven wrong." Darius was smiling. The other professor was shaking his head.

Damien quietly asked the dealer the time. It was two thirty in the morning. At this point Damien really wanted to leave. The client was yawning, and the card game was almost ignored by the three philosophers. When the cards were dealt yet again, Damien peeked to find an ace and king of hearts. He raised $50,000. Only the client called. Damien watched for the flop intently.

"You know, you’re just like Popper, you can’t accept genius." The other professor, a smaller, skinnier man, said.

"Wittgenstein was a crock. He only wrote one real book. Everything else was junk published posthumously."

"Popper might have been a prolific writer, but he hardly had any impact on philosophy."

"He does have an impact on philosophy. Wittgenstein is only famous because it’s chic to drop his name. Hardly anyone that talks about Wittgenstein knows anything about his philosophy."
Darius was always smiling. Smiling always with teeth gritted tightly.

The flop came out as a jack of hearts, a ten of hearts, and a jack of spades. The client bet $60,000. Damien thought for a moment.

"What are your credentials, by the way?" The Hume-comedian asked.

Darius was caught off guard. He realized he was in the hand and he folded.

"I—I—I didn’t..."

"You never went to school." The other professor smiled wide.

Damien called. The turn showed a six of clubs. Damien knew he needed one card to take out the client for good. Damien also knew that any heart would give him a flush, and that might beat him.

"You have just wasted our time debating something you have no expertise in."

"Do you even know what we’re talking about?"

"Yes, I do." Darius wasn’t smiling. "I’ve read the same book. I’ve read the Tractatus. I’ve also read The Open Society."

"So? I’ve read Jane Eyre. It doesn’t mean I could deconstruct the text with Derrida."

The client went all in. It was a good move if he was bluffing. Damien saw pretty Mary K. naked on the grass and called.

"You should not get into discourses of which you are unfamiliar."

"You’ll only prove yourself to be an idiot."

Darius was flushed. Damien looked up at him and realized he had never seen him so angry. His face was distorted horribly since his mouth was so used to the upward curve. Frowning was unfamiliar and ugly. Darius was also dangerously silent.