maybe
I. Am. An. Uncle.

I'm a Uncle too. My nephew's name is Phoenix Ash Thomas.
Same. Jacob (Jason) and I are Uncles.

u r funy JAson
Of course i am. I'm funny. And you're a sloth. That's just how life works

All who are good and holy in the spirit of the Thing Which Is, to which words themselves are meaningless in substance and structure. It is of this philosophical approach to Metaphysics that we, on the individual level, can mutually communicate like birds amongst the wind. Like a genius the man of the pen plays part in this higher existential nature, he is but the master of all things both real and imaginary.

All who are good and holy in the spirit of the Thing Which Is, to which words themselves are meaningless in substance and structure. It is of this philosophical approach to Metaphysics that we, on the individual level, can mutually communicate like birds amongst the wind. Like a genius the man of the pen plays part in this higher existential nature, he is but the master of all things both real and imaginary.
Gentlemen, we have a genius among us

Why do you seek this thing which you call "understanding", when it is not deserved? A word contains an intention, or is expressed as such, and to abide by the structures of the lanuage to the level of symbolism leads to a kind of spiritual complexity which unequivocally states itself as life and being itself, or like God himself, and of this spiritual and transcendent nature the intelligence of nature is one of birth, it is given but not earned, and this is the fundamental aciom of all things both real and imaginary.

Why do you seek this thing which you call "understanding", when it is not deserved? A word contains an intention, or is expressed as such, and to abide by the structures of the lanuage to the level of symbolism leads to a kind of spiritual complexity which unequivocally states itself as life and being itself, or like God himself, and of this spiritual and transcendent nature the intelligence of nature is one of birth, it is given but not earned, and this is the fundamental aciom of all things both real and imaginary.
Yes, knowledge is to a degree given to us by God himself, but he also gives us the chance to search for it ourselves. Are you therefore saying that the studies of the Greeks and Romans were in vain? That Descartes, Hobbes, Kant, and the others could not find knowledge? That Aquinas, Ockham, Abelard, and Augustine, among others, wasted their time attempting to further the ideals and practices of the Church?

On Postmodern literature, it is those who attempt to produce their own realities who are in vain, who speak the truth yet lie simultaneously. An integral part of any comprehensive philosophical concept is that it can be utilized holistically and is thus metaphysical in some sense, to the degree that knowledge must be preserved in some manner by the nature of its implications, and are thus sacred. What you call "truth" is simply a linguistic mapping of perceptual reality, and it refers to without directly implying anything about the "essence" of the reality itself, and can only do so insofar as the conceptual abstraction of the consituent aspects of that reality can be mapped out comprehensively, depending on the language involved in the expression of that thing and its interpretive structure.
You should go to You Tube and listen to the old Newfoundland song, "I am my own grandpa."