Plaques

We’re here to write the plaques for European philosophy. To Explain. And Explain Away!

We domesticate: that’s our role. We tame. We house-break. We teach good anglophone manners to European thought.

We make sure our introductions follow British Standards rules of clarity. Of logical argument. We’re certain to situate continental thought in its time. Its space. To show how it arose from fevers. From wars. From invasions. From massacres. From hot blooded Europeanism.

 

To clarify European aims and objectives. To bring into the light – the British light. To translate it into English prose – practically the clearest prose that ever existed. To iron out European style. Its flourishes! Its rhetoric! Its grandiosity! Its self-importance! To make it teaching-ready. Undergraduate-ready.

 

We’re filters. We’re capacitators. We’re transformers.

We make sure European thought doesn’t run riot. Doesn’t foam at the mouth. We’ll make sure that it doesn’t appear rabid. Or contagious in any way. We calm down the continental fever. We place a cold towel on the European brow.

We hose it down, European thought. We administer the tranquiliser. We place it on a leash, brought under control. Muzzled it. Make sure it’s wrangled into submission, at least in translation.

 

We’ll Account for it, European thought. Set in place. Place where it should be on the continental philosophy shelves.

We’ll put up the guardrails. The velvet rope. We’ll write the plaques. The exhibition catalogues.

We’ll handle it with care, continental thought. With tongs. With protective equipment. With a visor on. With gloves. Like we’re handling radioactive material. Like we’re dealing with explosives …

We’ll keep it in the specimen bag. Keep it under quarantine. Under glass. As an exhibit in the museum of thought.