Wittgenstein--of "I make my own air" infamy--doesn't seem to be concerned with, say, Kant's three questions: What can I know? What ought I do? For what may I hope? But really--is Wittgenstein unconcerned with those questions? There's a difference between dissolving philosophic problems and denying that there are any problems in philosophy. There's not a method, but many methods, like different therapies. Like pedophiliaor kleptomania or actions from passion: some problems, like some illnesses, seem resistant to therapy--even very good therapy. Wittgenstein sought the moment when he could stop doing philosophy; he did philosophy until almost the moment he died.
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The Times concocted a letter of apology that Beckham might send to the linesman: Dear Assistant Referee, (Ayudante Arbitro) I am sorry that I called you a son of a whore. (Lo siento que se llamo hijo de puta .) I am sure that your mother is not a whore at all. (Estoy seguro que su madre no es una puta.) I am sure that your mother is, in fact, a respected figure within her community. (Estoy seguro que su madre es una mujer muy respetable en su comunidad.)" And so on.