Logic and season of Lent

I am perplexed as to how I had supposed myself the intelligent person whose words bore the sure seal of logic. In everything I wrote, I was certain of the coherence, of the deft leaps over the fissures of fallacy, of the impregnability of argument and the exactness of semantics. But here I am, being chastised almost merciless by the logic paper given to us as a collaborative assignment. It mocks me for the foolery in which I had reveled – the only proficiency I ever possessed was but an illusion cast by pride. I needed to feel smart. I needed to have something which I could proudly parade. Logic, I thought. And so it was that I wrote what I believed was a testament to the finest logic, yet unknowingly I began twisting the manner in which they were read such that it became what I had so fervently wished it to be. Now, reality has come to shatter that illusion; and for the better of my spirit. No illusion can last a man who wishes to live properly in the world. I guess there is much to be learnt, not just of logic but also of humility. Perhaps this is to be my resolution for the season of Lent.


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