"See, it says here," stated Garnet, opening her paperback entitled The Big Questions: A Short Introduction to Philosophy, "'...philosophical writing should be somewhat entertaining, witty, dramatic, and even seductive.' I think..." she exclaimed excitedly, "That I could be a philosopher!"
"You haven't even finished the book." said Carla dismissively, "How could you be a philosopher already?"
"Well," explained Carla's irrepressible alter ego, "Aside from being entertaining, witty, dramatic, and even seductive...." she smiled, "A sound philosophy of life is a lot simpler than this esteemed author lets on."
"How so?" asked Carla dubiously, "Seems to me to be a very complicated topic, with legions of subtopics."
"No." Garnet shook her head, "Not at all. Every single sentence of this book and every phrase of philosophy that's ever been written can be trumped by one word." she concluded smugly.
"Which is?" Carla couldn't help but ask.
"Love. L-O-V-E, love. Love is the concept. Love is the conceptual framework. Love is the logic. Love is the argument. Love is truth. It's like that Maurice Sendak book where the queen served spaghetti for the salad, spaghetti for the appetizer, spaghetti for the main dish, and spaghetti for dessert- except it's Love and Philosophy instead of spaghetti and menus."
"Spaghetti?" Carla puzzled, "But... Love can't be a philosophy... philosophy can't be love... Love is a good thing, surely, but not good enough- in and of itself- to be a philosophy..." Carla mused.
"If it's good enough for God, it's good enough for me." Garnet declared. "You see, Jesus said, in answer to the question as to which of the commandments is the greatest, 'You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.'"
"And besides," she continued, "The proof is in the word itself. Philosophy. It starts with love. Therefore it must end with love. All those dead philosophers and their dry esoteric ideas and their ponderous tomes are dust or gathering dust. But Love is alive! Love has survived! People UNDERSTAND love. People live love!"
"Yes," Carla said doubtfully, "But if a real philosopher were to appear and come at you and your Fantasy Love Philosophy with rules of inference, axioms, deductive logic, inductive logic, syllogisms and catagorical syllogisms, would your 'philosophy' stand? What would you do to defend your ethereal ideas against the onslaught of our Fine Philosopher Friend?" I laughed.
"Easy." Garnet declared with a smile, "I would simply love him. Inevitably he would shut up, and I (and Love) would win by default."
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