How many conversations have I now had culminating in the escape of some Euthyphro? One hundred? One thousand? No, not marked by some display of cleverness; here I refer to the absconding of my companion, "in a hurry to get somewhere." That somewhere being undistinguished by mentality, and distinguished by an apparent freedom from the arduous burden of contemplation.
The question does not concern technical advancement, for there can be no doubt that modern equipment far outstrips ancient constructions in every detail. But that modern man -- in possession of so much more history than the ancient Greeks -- continues to practice the same Protean dance and finesse of Daedalus, suggests that intellectual "improvements" continue to cast diverse shadowy forms, rather than crystallizing into eternally perfect spheres.
It seems that if we were to apply the time necessary to know something to the best of our ability, we would know, or be acquainted with on the whole, a far smaller number of conceptions than shorter applications of time permit. But in the absence of the time required by ability, what is it we can reasonably claim to know? If, as I say, a simple conversation spanning five minutes can render an exponent's entire system untenable, is their best option to plead deliberation "some other time"?
"What a way to treat me, my friend! Going off like that and dashing the high hopes I had that I'd learn from you what things are pious and what aren't."
What a way, indeed.
Part of the series: Servetus