Martin Kolacek : Grunt RX-10 But the man didn’t answer. His eyes were closed and his forehead was lined with concentration. He stretched his hand forward, palm turned to them. ‘It’s a peace gesture. I’ve seen that in the section,’ Grunt informed his wife, and stretched a tentacle towards the man, a sucking disk turned to his wrinkled forehead. ‘Could you, please, connect our fuel tanks?’ The man started to tremble with concentration. Grunt mimicked him to gain his confidence. ‘We’d like to have sex, you know...’ The man fell to the ground. Somewhere from the sewers, a woman’s voice shouted: ‘Neo!’ ‘I believe this is their welcoming ritual. To show goodwill by being no threat to us. I think some native American tribes acted this way.’ And so they both fell to the ground to show goodwill. When Grunt regained consciousness he found out he was not as metallic as he should be. He was floating in mid-air and his ectoplasm transparent tentacles merged with the air so well it was hard to say where the border was between them. ‘There may not be any,’ he thought. But then he realized that being more transparent than a European in a Thai prison brings much more than a good opportunity for fruitless philosophy.9 ‘Am I... dead?’ He expressed his clear (non-philosophical) idea.
Which means Grunt wasn’t really a philosopher. A true philosopher would try to solve the ultimate questions in the most inappropriate situations. Ask Kant to hammer a nail and you’ll find him dead with a nail in his head the following morning because he tried to deconstruct a common norm. 9
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