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Said it best when he laid out on a persian rug in a small town in Mebrich, Germany and said

“To dwell is to garden.”

He was talking to his cat when he said it, and it was as a way of keeping that mangy feline indoors. Apparently, Heidegger’s cat was notorious for storming the lush soil and terrorizing the azaleas, dandelions, and coriander. “Martin, you little piss! Keep that hair-ball out of mein garten,” exclaimed his neighbor.
He never ceased to piss people off — gaining momentum as a misunderstood genius. After a contemporary philosopher invited him to dinner — slaving all day to make schnitzel and kartoffeln, Heideegger — Heidegger rolled into his apartment over three hours late, and questioned why there wasn’t more beer. When his friend and fellow philosopher asked him to explain why he was so late. Heidegger replied

“We do not say: Being is, time is, but rather: there is Being and there is time.”

At that point his contemporary threw the schnitzel into his face, kicked him out, and lit a joint.

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