A prof I used to have, where I picked up on my logic, had something to do with why I chose not to be his understudy as a candidate for future university accreditation. The window was open; then I closed that window to be offered myself the kind of living model for philosophical visage.
It thinks to me, like a supposition of language along the likes of Shakespeare's methods in creating his art. Philosophy has (to my better knowledge anyhow) a lost form of art unclaimed.
Certainly, there are a number of aggregate words when, words are expressed, to then change their meaning. It seems as though the world takes a picture of that word or this, to customize meaning, as then that word is to mean one thing not another. I never loved the assumption of my innocence, because if it depended on one's own.
I also conceive my self-image in supposition, a supposition of choice. (i.e. modus tollens ~ infer material implication ~ catch that felony in a lie ~ reclaim my habitual state of truth) Rinse then repeat that - liars are beggars which can't be choosers , in fact , they are those who cover up the meaning. As if the tracks they've left behind, were never traceable from their inept means to end. I never thought of Kant's principle, as one that many people understood, let alone took for granted as much. Lying about understanding something as a means to end, is that level of dishonesty I am not speaking with. My language, it's use, is just quite simply obvious enough to presume this is truth written language.
It's been a journey of lengthy, out of date characters in then out of my past, which has me tell of it brought me to where I am today as a writer.
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When people use language, as a remedy of false intentions, not only do they make themselves painfully obvious, as so much guiltily unaware.
These are the types of people, that judge themselves based on what others give to them without reciprocating from it, not because they can't, but because they've chosen not to out of some kind of spite.
If those same people judge based on their false intention, misguided they might be then, not to judge complacency. And seeing that this is in fact accurate, in place of lesser mortals, the conformity of choice becomes the adjudication. What is it you ask? Simply, that the power of a judgement, the false intention, of a infinite will. If those that place themselves up against this, they've become false witnesses to the same power of truth. One can have conformed another's inquisition, an imposition of false intention, because that executioner did not so much refuse to be judged. That person, the same one with false intentions to be judged upon their own will, have basically assumed they cannot be caught in a lie. The end result is that - that only.
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Now ask me between Einstein or Shakespeare who was the better of the genius? Shakespeare by 10 strides. If you wonder what philosophy is, it is a supposition of language which all forms of logic are hidden within. That is the cost.
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That my imposition of language, based in thought, truly admire those that pull the rug out from underneath you. . . then are only to find their own unilateral equations do not ebb nor flow with it's interlocutor. Those people are the by-products of branded-self deception, from which my entire philosophy incurred.
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