(For some reason this wasn't published way back when I wrote it... Could use some polishing but the spark is gone.)
Is to learn to write something, anything, to ensure that communication does not dry up.
This course is a test of our abilities to give regular updates to an unseen audience that does not pester us for more information.
This course is a means of discovering if we are capable of communicating at the frequency required in the workplace without becoming too fatigued or lazy to continue.
All else in this course is supplementary to this goal, such as our cultural critique assignment. That assignment is designed so that we discover what it is that will motivate us to write as extensively as we will need to. In relation to this project, a very close associate of mine recently informed me of a man named Alex Kierkegaard, and began sending me sauce (chanspeak for "source material"). Such delicious sauce that was. As I further explored the website, I realized that Mr. Kierkegaard was of far more importance than I'd originally thought. I would go so far as to say that Alex Kierkegaard is among the greatest philosophical minds of our time.
Here's the catch though; not only did he far surpass the simpleton George Ouzounian in his cultural critique, but he was a great many times more prolific. Both Kierkegaard and Madox (George Ouzounian) became successful because of two things they had in common.
1.) They're extremely passionate about what they write about.
2.) They don't allow anything to hinder that passion; no matter what they kept on writing.
Madox is less accomplished not only because he is less right, but because he is less tenacious. Even individuals like myself who disagree with everything he says would be willing to support him if he would have continued to post on his website. He doesn't though, so we don't.
Behold the tenacity and genius of the one and only Alex Kierkegaard as he shreds apart the fragile postulations of the unenlightened:
"He says the rules are real, but the dragon is not. But the dragon is a collection of rules, right? And if the rules are real, he must also be real, right?
Let's replace the dragon with a real animal to make the matter simpler. A wolf, say. Is the wolf in the videogame real, assuming the rules that define him are real?
This is a case of a confusion of language. What we call "wolf", the object we have agreed to designate by the sequential letters w-o-l-f, is, according to Wikipedia, "the largest wild member of the Canidae family of carnivorous and omnivorous mammals". Is the thing on your screen a member of the Canidae family of carnivorous and omnivorous mammals? -- No. -- So it's not a wolf. The question of whether or not it is a REAL wolf DOES NOT EVEN ARISE, because IT'S NOT A WOLF AT ALL.
The "dragon" is real alright -- or, to use a better example than what that idiot used: the "wolf" is real. As real as anything else around us. It's just not a wolf. You need a new word to designate him. The reason we use "wolf" is for convenience's sake ("It kinda looks like a wolf, so what the hell, let's just call it a wolf!") -- which is why we end up running against all these theoretical problems later on. But consider Amaterasu in Okami: what is "half-real" about him? Amaterasu in Okami is Amaterasu in Okami -- say hi to him from me next time you see him. Whether he will reply back is another question. But he will certainly not be any less real on that account! Do "real" wolves reply when you say hi to them anyways?
This reminds me of how Wittgenstein ended his Tractatus. He says something to the effect that "and only when you have understood that all the statements in this book are nonsense will you have understood me".
Isn't philosophy great?
But seriously, things are really not that complicated."
- Kierkegaard, Alex (http://forum.insomnia.ac/viewtopic.php?t=3156)
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