Pyrrho is a twunt. And Sextus Empiricus can eat badger faeces and die. Well, he could if he wasn't dead already.

Writing an essay on skepticism when you have...12 hours is never going to be fun.

Writing an essay on skepticism when you can't really remember the lectures, can't find your notes, and seem to have lost the core text when you have...11 hours and 58 minutes is even less so.

Particularly when all you really remember is 'Oh really?! YA REALLY!' jokes. Which probably don't even make sense. Fuck a duck in the arse with a freakin' broadhead. Or a peewee. That'd be amusing.

Fortunately, it's not a compulsory module so when I fail, i can probably ignore it. But come ON! Doubting everything in a really neutral manner doesn't seem like real philosophy. Particularly since the doubting can NEVER BE STOPPED. EVER.

I don't give a riproaring donkey fart what Sextus is trying to argue in this passage because it's just common sense. Being in different physical/mental states makes things seem different. Therefore, we can't really know what the thing in question is. And? We'll never be able to, so why worry?

GET ON WITH YOUR AFTERLIVES, YOU CLASSICAL WANKERS!