#Philosophy

Axiology is the parlor game of endlessly debating what is noble and what is trivial. Ethics and aesthetics are dragged along by one’s ego in an infinite philosophy café that dissolves any sense of time. Everyone boasts that their own values are unique, yet mercilessly critiques everyone else’s. In the marketplace, price tags are worshiped as proof of omnipotence, while in daily life our mental yardsticks swing wildly. Even knowing no conclusion will ever come, we can’t stop the unstoppable juggling of values.

An axiom is the epitome of truth that abandons skepticism from the outset. Enshrined to seal the labyrinth of formal proofs, it becomes the ultimate answer to the unasked question ‘Why?’. It is the cornerstone holding up the ramparts of logic, yet in doing so locks debates behind iron bars. A mathematician’s incantation carved in spellbooks that, once uttered, grants unquestionable absolutes. Marketed as a safety device for thought, it is in fact a shield rejecting all criticism.

Axis mundi is a highly convenient spiritual contraption that is everywhere yet belongs to no one. Worshiped as an imaginary pillar connecting heaven and earth, it ironically excels at revealing absolutely no location. Scholars cherish it as a topic of study while tourists gain nothing more than a souvenir photo. As a self-affirmation system dressed in piety, it quietly operates in the background, simultaneously fueling endless debates with its infinite loop of conjecture.

Axis time is the mythical moment promised to time travelers to convince them they have arrived at the center. Philosophers use it as a convenient term to feign profundity and indefinitely postpone conclusions. Everyone wants to believe in its existence, yet no one has ever captured it. While it functions like a holy grail to distract from mundane realities, it is essentially nothing more than an escapist pilgrimage. Still, speakers maintain their venerable expressions.

The bagua is a decorative ensemble of eight pseudo-mystical symbols from ancient China that now circulates as chic wall art. Far from revealing truths, it merely exposes your finances and psyche. For believers, it grants false security; for skeptics, it bestows only scorn—a self-contained device for guaranteed peace of mind. Arrange it in the corners of your room under the guise of feng shui, and partake in the hopeful ritual that somewhere, something might improve.

Balance is the clever social mechanism that embraces all contradictions at once while guaranteeing that no one will ever be satisfied. It promises tranquility to some and burdens compromise on others. Under the pretext of avoiding extremes, it points to an eternally shifting, unattainable goal. The tightrope called equilibrium only reassures the audience, while performers’ feet remain cold. The moment balance is lost, people earn the ironic reward of blaming it for every failure.

A "baptism of fire" is the hallowed ritual of throwing a newcomer or unstable system into a blazing ordeal, sanctifying the subsequent charring and regret. Often, the mere passage through the flames becomes a prized status, while the cleanup is left as an unwanted burden. Once a mark of heroism, it now manifests as a manager’s whim or society’s ruthless competition stoking the furnace. What remains after being scorched is ash—and an ironic badge of honor. It is, above all, a merciless performance proving that survival alone confers strength.

Becoming is a blend of veneration and forced alchemy that squeezes something out of the unseen void. Sometimes exalted as a divine act, sometimes derided as nothing more than a mundane procedure, it mocks the cruel truth. It promises infinite possibilities and infinite rollback in the same breath, seducing us into a bottomless swamp. Ultimately it departs having left only the self doubt of whether anything was ever truly generated, a master of ironic theatrics.

Being is the state of occupying space without ever receiving gratitude. Philosophers dive deep into it only to emerge with expensive and pointless debates. In everyday life, it exists solely so someone can insult you by saying you lack it. Conversely, while praised as 'noble being,' it is nothing more than a trendy buzzword. Ultimately, being is a fickle abstract concept whose value ebbs and flows with someone's mood.

“Being-toward-death” is the absurd condition of acting out life while lugging around the inevitability of death. It’s like carrying an existential weight that no amount of enlightenment can lighten. Holding a one-way ticket to the final curtain, one wanders the audience of existence as the tragicomic protagonist. Philosophical inquiry is merely staging to make the ending less dull. Under the ultimate pressure of awaiting oblivion, every daily excuse suddenly gains remarkable credibility.

A belief is the tiny torch that illuminates the maze called reality, yet often blinds its bearer to alternative paths. It serves as a comforting mantle against doubt and a rigid cage before others' views. Everyone proclaims their creeds with the solemnity of saints, while their foundations tremble like sandcastles. The more one believes, the more obstinate one becomes; the more one doubts, the more capricious one feels. A delicate balance between salvation and ruin, belief is ultimately the most versatile of self-hypnosis devices.

Benedictus is the entity that, under the guise of a sacred blessing, voraciously consumes believers’ time and money. It artfully adorns doctrinal ambiguity, silencing dissent and monopolizing inner peace. With a single "faith is just like that" it crushes intellectual inquiry, enveloping doubts in a veil of mysticism. Its benedictions are mistaken for spells that defer worldly hardship, yet ultimately serve as an indulgence, invalidating all logic in the name of the divine will.