Title: " Restoring The Foundations Of Epistemic Justification: A Direct Realist And Conceptualist Theory Of Foundationalism "
Author: Steven L. Porter
Publisher: Lexington Books
Year: 2006
ISBN-10: 0-7391-1140-X
ISBN-13: 978-0-7391-1140-6
Most appreciated!
Even Wikipedia isn't helping me understand this, so help me understand what the beliefs behind this art school are. Thank y'all in advance!
Edit: Thank you all for posting links, metaphors/examples, and explanations! You guys are so helpful!
https://youtu.be/2jU9mJbJsQ8
The extremes of self-reference.
Few minds are greater equipped to deal with strange anomalies than the Conceptualist. Write from the viewpoint of a Conceptualist as he confronts/or creates something beyond reality.
Base rules are simple, First person is highly preferred, Modern to post-modern eras are also preferred, 500 word minimum - No Max. Maybe I can think of some sort of prize...
Closes 5/31(In anticipation I will wait.)
The funeral director was asking us what we think Mum should wear in her casket.
Mum always loved to wear sarongs (fabric wraps that go around the torso and drape downward a bit like a long skirt would), so my uncle suggested that she wear a sarong in there.
The funeral director looked a bit confused, as did some of our family members, to which my uncle added:
"What's sarong with that?"
I started laughing like an idiot. He was proud of it too. The funeral director was rather shocked. We assured her, and our more proper relatives, that Mum would've absolutely loved the joke (which is very true).
His delivery was perfect. I'll never forget the risk he took. We sometimes recall the moment as a way help cushion the blows of the grieving process.
--Edit-- I appreciate the condolences. I'm doing well and the worst is behind me and my family. But thanks :)
--Edit-- Massive thanks for all the awards and kind words. And the puns! Love 'em.
I would have a daughter
Capital of Ireland
It's Dublin everyday
http://m.imgur.com/ImM3RWz
But Bill kept the Windows
True story; it even happened last night. My 5-year-old son walks up behind me and out of the blue says, "hey."
I turn to him and say, "yeah, kiddo? What's up?"
He responds, "it's dead grass."
I'm really confused and trying to figure out what's wrong and what he wants from me. "What? There's dead grass? What's wrong with that?"
.
.
.
He says, totally straight-faced, "hay is dead grass," and runs off.
You officially hit rock bottom
And then you will all be sorry.
Now it’s syncing.
K9P
He replied, "Well, stop going to those places then!"
I will find you. You have my Word.
Because he wanted space
Edit: Thank you for the awards.
She said how do you know he was headed to work?
“thank you for your cervix.”
...sails are going through the roof.
Mods said I'm a cereal reposter...
