The other night I went slightly mad trying to sort out the problem of epistemology, so I spent the entirety of my evening attempting to apprehend the proper theory describing how human beings can claim to know what they know. Most of the time my old man was getting ready to depart for Cancun, I was devouring Immanuel Kant and Edmund Husserl and assorted others trying to discover whether we can rely on our senses to accurately depict reality or not. I'm not even sure why this caught up with me so suddenly, or so viciously, but I was going nuts trying to ascertain an answer. Finally, at about 5:30 in a.m. I figured that it was a pretty pointless venture, because it dawned on me that any theory which questions the validity of human sense perception relies upon using the senses in evaluating something! So after that I called it a night, slightly disillusioned with philosophy, begrudging it as a sophistic repository for aimless queries into affairs that have no practical application into our lives. Of course, that's a pretty broad blanket statement, but seriously, reason should be utilized in discovering how to actualize our potential and to how to maximize the possibilities of our lives and to achieve excellence, not for pseudo-intellectual debates that have no bearing on how we live our lives. That may be too simple of a summation, especially since epistemologically speaking, I'm still essentially a Platonic Idealist, but my diatribe should not be read solely as a polemic against modes of thought regarding epistemology; what I mean is that any philosophical system that is not devoted to the betterment of ourselves is a fruitless exercise and is without merit.
I'd much rather rely on John Lennon for maxims to live by than Jean-Paul Sartre. Nowhere in Sartre's work will you find anything approaching, "There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be- it's easy..." All you need is love, my dears.
Love,
Ian