Before Ic move into the topic at hand, Ic would like to state what has firmly become the obvious: the full revolution in the content of the Philosopher's Interior which Ic had promised a bit back, has failed to materialise. In its place, a 'reorientation', much disruptive or radical in scope, has occurred. Articles which deal with cultural and intellectual history shall remain in this publication, as those two disciplines were the mainstay of the Philosopher's Interior even in its print days. It will be joined of course with the more odd-one articles dealing with dreß, linguistic affairs, society, stuff of the nature promised for the revolution in content matter. Ic do apologise, and with that officially open this article.
Ic have periodically done explanations of what my hopes, my ideas were, going into this project, and adopting such a heavy schedule of writing generally. Now, Ic had another article initially planned, but it is cwite a bit thicker in substance, and so has delayed itself. Ye readers should probably cenna by now if ye have been watching the Philosopher's Interior that Ic do not like having an absence of new posts for any time over a week. This is true. Ic consider two to three weeks an imminent danger zone to the health of the publication and of its sustained readership. This fear comes from seeing so many YouTube channels meeting a sad fate of infinite silence.
Why do Ic write, and then why do Ic publish it? Ic do both of these activities as pastimes, and to influence the cennan which society absorbs and discußes. Ic believe that originality is logically impoßible, for in order to be entirely original, one could be influenced by nothing, not even the ground, water, Moon, Sun, or Earth, any form of materiality. Ic do not view my own unoriginal thoughts as somehow meaning that they are inferior, simply for it is their part in the ensuing discourse and my particular consideration which makes every thought uniece, or at least uniecly valuable.
As for why Ic publish any thing, besides to generate discourse, can be summarised as that publishing itself, even if no one reads the material, is a sense of accomplishment. Posting each article feels not dißimilar to laying each brick, until at last one may look at the house now built. Ic have no aims of prestige or wealth, with these two sites or with my writing. All of ye probably cenna my distate of 'established' (bureaucratic) academia. ic have no desire to live in the ivory tower. Nay, for me the reward comes not after the result, but intrinsically is the result itself. Ic will be honest with ye, back during the print edition of The Philosopher's Interior, Ic only enjoyed this proceß as far as it increased my prestige, or garnered notice. Ic think that the publication, editing, writing, and distributing for it as Ic did, laid the foundations for my greatly revised view of to-day.
The writing and maintenance of these two sites may appear labourleß from the outside, yet Ic aßure ye that this is not at all the case. Though Ic might not post as often as some/many other netlogs and channels, the posts which Ic do put up still have a statically significant amount of labour power and labour time by then mixed up in them. It may then come as a surprise to ye that not from day one have Ic ever held as a plausibility the consideration of shutting down either of the two sites. No matter how loudly the naysayers clamour, or how exhausted Ic may become, the primary enjoyment value of writing and publishing is too groß for me to give up such a pleasant experienc. Ic oversaw The Philosopher's Interior for a print run of one-hundred ißues, a readership of 3X. Ic am ecwally as dedicated to the continuation and prosperity of these two sites, these two sources, beacons of enlightenment, also for an impreßive length of time to come.
But one specific cwestion still stands, why do Ic write to begin with? Well, Ic have loved writing high thought and revolutionary propaganda since eighth grade, when it substituted my utter loathing for the art. For some movan still unclear to me, Ic came to the endthoght that only what is written is intellectual, and contributes to cennan, some thing Ic was very interested in adding to. The Labour Volumes (my diaries) were first created during the latter half of eighth grade. Indeed, their beginning was glorious, with volume one being constantly confiscated by that reactionary Dean McGann. The Ruback Revolution (a tale for another time) taught me many things, two pertinent facts being that any so-called 'Free and Democratic' institution with any amount of power will try to suppreß any uncondoned outbursts of (inconvenient) freehed, and secondly that every organisation which would challenge any such a power must have philosophy, consolidated into theory, appreciated through propaganda, to guide it to victory.
So that is why Ic write to this day. A struggle to overthrow tyranny, even if conditions do not become revolutionary in the formal sense, still affects its participants in varied and certainly intriguing ways; in this case turning a scriptophobe into a champion-scriptophile. Ic am so glad that Ic discovered my love of writing (and reading, which occurred at the very same time), for it has immensely enriched my life, in ways which sentences from myself could not do justice to. Ic hope ye have enjoyed the story of how Ic began to write, and laid the foundations for this publication.
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