By a Long Chalk
By a Long Chalk
The phrase originates in keeping scores by making chalk marks. I remember Professor John Cohen, head of the psychology department at Manchester University when I was a student there (1968-72), writing to me and saying that my M.A. thesis on innate ideas was “the best M.A. thesis I have ever read by far and by a long chalk”. He wasn’t content with “the best” or even “the best by far”; no, it had to be “the best by far and by a long chalk”. A bit of a redundancy you might say, but one sees his intention—as we might paraphrase him, “far and away the best”. This made me reflect on my own self-description, and I fear I may have to revise it yet again as new facts come to light: not just the best philosopher by far, but the best philosopher by far and by a long chalk. It is my melancholy duty to put it on record that I merit even the chalky superlative. But it gets worse: I have been forced to accept that it doesn’t stop there. For who else can claim the same range as me across the board? The intellectual, the athletic, the musical—it’s a highly unusual package. I have never heard of anyone who can do as many sports as me, and my musical range is unusually broad. It’s hard to believe. I seem to be unique in my range of abilities. If anyone else is in the same case, I would like to hear about them. Someone should really make a documentary on me before it is too late—I am a remarkable specimen. I find it hard to credit it myself. Psychologists should investigate and probe me; I might contain some useful lessons. I am a kind of freak of nature, a weirdo, a strange mutation. They should take a look at my DNA. How did it happen? After all, I don’t look like much. I’m a bit of mystery.
Another recantation of your past mistake. There is a pattern to your errors that Mary Petersen would do well to notice if she hopes to get the better of you some day: a bias toward excessive modesty can lead you to understate what is warranted by the evidence, especially regarding your God-given gifts.
I know, I’m very prone to these mistakes of modesty. I must try to improve in this respect. I have even been known to understate my table tennis prowess. As a beginning, I state that even God could not create my God-given talents.
Some people are saying God was created in my image, and these are good people, but that can’t be true because God doesn’t have my vocal talents. Still, the point is well taken.
Humour?
Second, third degree?
Sorry but I am lost.
Yes, humor, but not far removed from reality. British humor. My Turkish friends were telling me I am a rare bird.
At last professor we are hearing the undiluted truth that includes the divine truth as a tiny subset of itself accompanied by an infinitely wise and exemplary moral judgment: “Some people are saying God was created in my image, and these are good people”. The only problem with that is that you, in your unbound wisdom, unintentionally teach a few defective specimen in power some very effective, not to say very beautiful, rhetorical tricks that they wouldn’t have picked on their own. This is a risky gambit.
It’s a danger I have often contemplated: people learning too much from me. It could be lethal in the wrong hands. (Note my parody of Trump-style rhetoric: “Some people are saying…”).
Noted as I tried to show in my own “very beautiful” tribute to the great leader’s manner of speech right above your response.
We are clearly both good people who love our country.