There once was a man who was so conserned for his sanity that he took drastic action one day. He had a problem with being wrong all the time, and he hated it.

One day he was out with his daughter and they were at the zoo. His daughter said to him at the lion pen

"Daddy, what is that animal over there?"

"i dont know honey," her father said

"But daddy!", said his daughter "if i dont learn ill never grow!" she screamed "and if i dont grow, i'll be tiny forever!"

Her father thought quickly and came up with an answer

"its an 'humoporopitomgrunculous'" he said proudly, "They live in the sky and eat mooses"

"No it isnt!" shouted another member of the public, "its a lion!"

Well, the little girl was quite angry with her father and more so after the same thing happened again a few minuites later.."

"its a 'Grooverdillo'"

"no its not its a bear!"

and again at the bird house

"its a 'polopotirat'"

"Not its not its a Parrot!"

when all this was over, his daughter asked to be taken home. The man was upset and confused, he wanted to know how he could never upset his daughter again. so he descided to write down all the things he knew so he could give her a list and she could ask him only about those things.

"the following things are true"

he wrote as he spoke it alloud

he realised then, that sentance was the only thing he knew for certain. That the page was blank told him that he knew nothing. Well, he thought, if thats the only thing i know, i best write it down and make the page less blank-looking.

The following things are true.
The following things are true.

This made the man happy for a moment untill he realised the rest of the blank page was laughing at him, 'you know nothing' it said to him rudely.

The man descided that he would continue defining the compeltness of his statement, he would declare that all the things that were true were true, and concluded that as long as he never stopped writing that one fatefull statement, 'the following things are true' he would never be wrong, and have allot to say.
The man kept writing at that desk untill the day he died. He wrote fourty four thousant pages of text, always the same, and luckily he never saw the last blank line, and so is convinced up in heaven that all of the things he knew were true and that he knew all, and only one thing.