Philosophy died when Abrhamic god died, and was resurrected as another word…one as fantastic, absolute, and detached from reality…one as undefinable, emotional, placed in the mouths of children, now invited to sit on the adult table, as a human, if not god-given, right.
Philosophy died, when art declined, and along with it language, when in the void left behind, when Nihilism secularized, erasing past/nature, leaving minds in limbo, desperate for a new find.
When an elephant could paint, and be sold as valuable, by knaves triggering human vanity, using peer-pressure to manipulate stupidity…philosophy died.
When all declared themselves worth listening to, women, children and retards too, philosophy, and the human spirit died.
When it became political, concerned about keeping friends, making amends, feeling good, selling goods, conserving alliance, buying appliances…philosophy died.
and now, that words need not refer to the real, like art, pretend to be profound, with a line, a lump, a bump, a rhyme, it is being buried, by well-meaning buffoons, wanting to be loved, and hugged, and appreciated… not having the parental care they craved…how many reincarnations, new comings, rebirths, will we endure, can we tolerate…messiahs born every night, and like fools and their money, soon departing before the morning light.
Where philosophy lives, no knave can enter, no imbecile trespass, no coward endure the entrance fee.
Philosopher = hybrid half-scientist, half-artist…Who but a half-man, half-beast, a monster could endure the costs, to be found among the lost?