Wittgenstein’s parables, like Jesus’, have a peculiar power to capsize thought, to overturn it even as it sails its trade routes.
His BlBk parable about the floor exemplifies the power (p. 45). The target of the parable is the idea that physics teaches us that the floor, or a desk, is mostly empty space. This teaching seems to render the floor beneath us or the desk before us shaky, almost visibly trembly, certainly not certainly up to the task of holding me up or holding up my copy of Bradley’s Appearance and Reality (a heavy-ish tome).
But what physics teaches constitutes its explanation of the solidity (not, in this case, the insolidity) of the desk. Physics explains why the desk shoulders Bradley. That explanation cannot render the desk unhelpful. And that explanation cannot spawn a second desk–call it ‘the desk of the philosophers’–that now must somehow be reconciled with a first desk–call it ‘the desk of Moore, Austin and Wittgenstein’. But there is no second desk. There is just the one, solid, quietly helpful, patient to endure investigation even by physicists.
Explanations cannot swallow their own heads.