I was the weeping murder-pain of Heraclean, mighty swords and murder-meteor-murder ash.
I am a shooting star. I don’t sparkle; I incinerate…
Look at this might force
Weeping before our eyes.
Blessed be the pain, the watcher.
I am the Rage of Ra.
I am the Eye of Horus.
The question of personhood remains one of the most daunting in philosophy. One would think that a discipline as old as time would provide a more sophisticated answer to the problem than a drunken man’s 3-am-at-the-bar drivel. Philosophy has never been a fortress for certainties, and anyone who claims to have a definitive solution to the problem may be shouting it from inside the padded walls of a psychiatric ward.
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