The Word, The Wordsmith and the Warlock.

Okay so you guessed the warlock part was a ruse to get your attention, and it worked.  Big deal. It was just sensationalism (and a tribute to the mindless stuff we call entertainment these days), a means to my end. If it works, then it must be okay. Well, that is if you believe the various epistemological theories about truths being relative, about knowledge being subjective.

Have no worries- I do not intend to launch into a moral/religious critique of such dangerous "heresies". I intend to look back at the Man who woke me up to the reality that philosophy was not the chaff we received in heated lecture halls (in a school where it's summer all-year round).  A man who made me realise that philosophy wasn't a bunch of old guys with no work to do, telling silly stories of "the one that got away". Not a cacophony of poor musicians lacing ugly instrumentals with occasional ejaculations of half-witted wisdoms.

He made me realise that philosophy is as simple as me asking myself, "what IS?" "is this REAL". He let me understand that the complete person is the one who has gained mastery over his impulses, who has conquered mathematics and accomplished himself in music, who has turned science from. Strange body of rules into practical solutions.

He has taught me that not even criminal-level intelligence is not an excuse for arrogance. He has taught me that success humbles a man, rather than make him a hot-air ballon, spewing "unnecessary verbosities" at the slightest provocation. 

He might wonder when I picked all these up from him, when he said All that. The Igbo peoplehave a proverb- "Children have never been good listeners, but they've never been bad imitators of what Elders do".

To Chinedu "Wordsmith" Onuoha, happy birthday. May you light the path for others to see, may they THINK like you inspired Me to.

ERGO COGITO SUM