by Joseph P. Oldsboy, freshman | edited by Zachary Chen

As every educated person everywhere knows, Aristotle once defined the concept of true happiness or eudaimonia as an activity of the soul in accordance with virtue. What most people don’t know, however, is that he could have also defined virtue in terms of “The Duck Song 5.”

In what follows, I shall attempt to prove that Aristotle’s conception of “the good” can be defined solely using “The Duck Song 5.” Failing that, I shall try to show that an Aristotelian Duck Song can be fully defined in terms of “The Good 5.” And if I can’t accomplish that, I shall strive to convince you that Aristotle’s 5 song conceptions of the Good Duck are…em…virtuous? 

I’m not entirely clear on my thesis, as I’m writing this article for The Forum on a measly seven hours and forty-five minutes of sleep (I was up last night burning the midnight oil to finish another Western Heritage two-pager). But despite the mudlike clarity of my essay’s central claim, there are a number of stunningly obvious allusions to Aristotle scattered throughout “The Duck Song 5.”

The biggest one of all is hidden in plain sight: the eponymous duck of “The Duck Song” is a bright golden hue. Most viewers probably would have passed right by this obvious reference to Aristotle’s conception of the “golden mean.” But not me. After all, what does the duck consistently do throughout the five songs that bear his name if not be “mean” to the man running the stand? The blatant Aristotelianism blinds the eye, just as the duck’s voice deafens the ear of the listener. 

But this leads me to my next point, and I shall carefully signpost it for you as follows: “The Duck Song 5,” which focuses on the transitive nature of the spacetime continuum and the inherently tragical-yet-joyful qualities of the partitive experience concomitant with the range of human salutations and valedictions, is supported by an Aristotelian virtue ethics framework of gratitude. 

To phrase that more clearly, I was sad when the duck said, “stay grateful—goodbye!” 

Another highly Aristotelian aspect of “The Duck Song 5” is its focus on the finality of the saga’s heartbreaking finale. The man who runs the lemonade stand is inspired by and grateful to the duck, who so excellently shows him the market opportunity for “gremonade.” 

And throughout, we are oh-so-bittersweetly-and-yet-insistently reminded that this song is the last. It is the horizon beyond which no duck returns, nor asks for grapes, nor lemonade. It is the fabled land of the starry West to which we thought we never should return and yet have longed for until the moment it sprang into our collective consciousness like forked lightning into a bent tamarisk tree. It is that other than which there is no more, beyond where there is nowhere, above which there is nothing higher. 

It is, in short, the End—and if you’ve ever read Aristotle, you know he’s all about that “end.”

And throughout, we are oh-so-bittersweetly-and-yet-insistently reminded that this song is the last. It is the horizon beyond which no duck returns, nor asks for grapes, nor lemonade…It is, in short, the End—and if you’ve ever read Aristotle, you know he’s all about that “end.”

And so, what message shall we take from this seemingly simple yet profoundly Aristotelian duck who asks for grapes? How shall we apply this exemplum so that our virtus may gaudet in the tentamine-s it faces until it reaches that truest and highest end of humanity—the eudaimonia of the truly wise duck man?

I propose that the duck would want us to examine ourselves. As an infamous idiot-excuse for a philosopher once plagiarized from his much superior student Aristotle, the unexamined life is not worth living. 

So search deep into your heart and ask whether you, unlike the duck, have proven too lax in your pursuit of fruit—the fruits of learning? Scrutinize your motives: have you been as fervent in your demands for the sweet, sweet lemonade of Aristotelian wisdom as the duck was in his thirst for grapes? If the answer is “no,” know that there is help in the holy pages of Aristotle. 

Gaze upon the Aristotelian exemplar presented to thee in the humble figure of a duck who wantests grapes. Quench thine parching desire for ethics (Nicomachean or otherwise) in the contemplation of the lowly yet profound model of amphibian avianity presented to you in the Duck Songs. 

And when you are done, waddle away, waddle-waddle, ‘til the very next day. 

Bum-bum-bum-bum—bum-bah-bum. 

---

Joseph Oldsboy is a freshman. He hopes to graduate with a double-major in Aristotelian Philosophy and Benzing as well as a double-ex in Mac and Olds. 

Zachary Chen is a sophomore studying Greek, Latin, German, and journalism.