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Poem	I think, therefore I am, said a man whose mother quickly hit him on the head, saying, I hit my son on the head, therefore I am. No no, you've got it all wrong, cried the man. So she hit him on the head again and cried, therefore I am. You're not, not that way; you're supposed to think, not hit, cried the man. . . . I think, therefore I am, said the man. I hit, therefore we both are, the hitter and the one who gets hit, said the man's mother. But at this point the man had ceased to be; unconscious he could not think. But his mother could. So she thought, I am, and so is my unconscious son, even if he doesn't know it . . .
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