The Oxford Murders Page #3

There's your big chance!

There is no way|of finding a single

absolute truth, an irrefutable|argument that might help to answer

the questions of mankind.

Philosophy,|therefore, is dead.

Because "Whereof we cannot speak,

thereof we must be silent."

Oh, it seems that|someone does wish to speak.

It appears you are not|in agreement with Wittgenstein.

That means either you have found|a contradiction in the arguments

of the Tractatus, or you have an|absolute truth to share with us all.

I believe in the number Pi.

I'm sorry,|I didn't understand you.

What was it|you said you believed in?

In the number Pi, in the Golden|Section, the Fibonacci Series.

The essence of nature|is mathematical.

There is a hidden meaning|beneath reality.

Things are organized following|a model, a scheme, a logical series.

Even the tiny snowflake

includes a numerical basis|in its structure. Therefore,

if we manage to discover|the secret meaning of numbers,

we will know|the secret meaning of reality.

Impressive!

Translating his words into

the Queen's English,

we find ourselves|faced with a fresh,

rousing defence of mathematics,|as if numbers

were pre-existing ideas in reality.

Anyway, this is nothing new.

Since man is incapable|of reconciling mind and matter,

he tends to confer|some sort of entity on ideas,

because he cannot bear the notion|that the purely abstract

only exists in our brain.

The beauty and harmony|of a snowflake.

How sweet!

The butterfly

that flutters its wings

and causes a hurricane|on the other side of the world.

We've been hearing about|that damn butterfly for decades,

but who has been able|to predict a single hurricane?

Nobody!

Tell me something...

Where is the beauty|and harmony in cancer?

What makes a cell

suddenly decide to turn itself|into a killer metastasis

and destroy the rest of|the cells in a healthy body?

Does anyone know?

No.

Because we'd rather think|of snowflakes

and butterflies than of pain,

war

or that book.

Why?

Because we need to think|that life has meaning,

that everything|is governed by logic

and not by mere chance.

If I write 2 then 4 then 6,|then we feel good, because we know

that next comes 8.

We can foresee it,

we are not in the hands

of destiny.

Unfortunately, however,

this has nothing to do with truth.

Don't you agree?

This...

is only fear.

Sad...

but there you go.

You must

be Martin.

At last we meet.

But, I don't get it,|are you leaving?

Yes, I'm leaving. It was a mistake.|It was all a big mistake.

Things have not turned out|as you expected, I guess.

No, they haven't.|You bet they haven't.

I hope the hastiness|of your decision

has nothing to do with

Professor Seldom.

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