The Unconscious and Its Relation to Wit

Twice today, while copying down a passage from Seneca’s epistles, I misspelled the word immortal. Truly, the rest of my copy was flawless, but for this double error.

Upon further consideration, it appears as though the mistake is notable for one of two reasons. Either (a) it’s a meaningful message, courtesy my unconscious, regarding an unexamined anxiety about death, or (b) it was a purposeful error, courtesy my unconscious, that would lead to an entry at my charming weblog, The New Enthusiast.

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