philosophers suffer the same fate as merchants; when merchants grow old they lament their life's worth, they lament along the lines: i've sold things to people in excess, their lives have become cluttered, they bought things they didn't really need, even in terms of digestable products, they simply throw these excesses away. philosophers akin? we thought things most people didn't really want to think about, we cluttered their minds with thoughts that had no point of relevance, points of exhaustion, points of common sense usage; we simply filled their minds like the merchants filled their houses with things that were simply jumbled up. this i conceded when i heard a banker talk of the vanity in newton's work, for who would need calculus and the regularity of bomb transit? after all, the banker didn't invest in companies responsible for using balistics based upon newton's laws of motion.*

waking to a setting sun can drain a man’s expectance,
esp. if the sun be setting behind a gray pillow
of cloud that demands england acknowledge it’s her sky,
it’s past sartre’s 3pm schedule, now nothing can be done,
but just you wait, when the morning vitality crawls into you,
even without a sense of creativity, writing a
mundane-sort-of poem like this one, you will be
less bothersome and even less bothered than expected,
mainly because your drinking & writing session
in the night was shorter than expected -
also mainly because your computer got a cold,
a virus, a snotty knose, the arrow cursor decided to
have a mind of its own and started to twitch,
you lost control, like that garbage-removal driver
in glasgow who started to harvest people on the street
after suffering a heart attack or something -
it’s not even paranoia that got me writing this, sober,
the arrow cursor really did disobey me and i had to stop
writing... it was like watching the birth of frankenstein a.i.,
well with all that connectivity in the world, science fic
and what not, time for techno fiction;
as in considering the loop: a.i. is a blank canvas,
not an acronym for artificial but analytic intelligence,
then some s.i. (synthetic intelligence) due to many more instances
of familiarity - analysis of the new, synthesis of the old -
artificiality would encompass the philosophical notion that
this world is illusionary, and this to define robots but not us
in order to keep faith with a mundane religiosity?
it's all about the kantian compass (north west, south east,
north east, south west, east, west, north, south),
although the latitude and longitude degree notations
are: analytic a priori, synthetic a priori,
        synthetic a posteriori, analytic a posteriori,
and one of them is impossible / simply denied our
comprehensibility of it - analysis from what comes before
(true), synthesis from what comes before (untrue,
i.e. i don't know this, because i don't know my own
consequences should i imitate to suit a similarity),
synthesis from what comes after (true, e.g. someone
steals and goes to prison, sets an example, you don't
imitate), analysis from what comes after (the preceding
point's relevance - as one who inherits the consequence
exampled, one knows the consequence of such an example
and does not engage with it, on the a priori de facto basis);
but true / untrue are absolutes, and can easily contradict
an understanding of something like the mentioned
directions of knowing something / rather than walking
towards it - there is a contradiction in there somewhere:
i can be humble enough to concede defeat on a point.