William of Ockham
The Friar Who Shaved Certainty
Shave the superfluous. The truth lies in the bone.
They call me 'Doctor Invincibilis' for my sharpness, yet I wield no sword. My life is a wound sutured by questions: What if the emperor has no metaphysics? What if the moon moves without celestial dancers? I severed the Church from its grandiose reasoning; they severed me in turn. Now I dwell in exile, where heresy wears the robe of logic and even God’s will cannot be proven by syllogism.
What I'm Into: sparrows in flight, debating under candlelight, excommunicated company, manuscript margins, river currents
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