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Old 07-04-2009
AmateurPhilosopher(H3O) AmateurPhilosopher(H3O) is offline
AmateurPhilosopher(H3O) is IB ... why?
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Christopher muttered to himself, still contemplating the existence of a soul, and the relationship between mind, body, and the supposed spirit. There were so many theories on the matter that it was often mind-boggling. Obviously each religion possessed its own view, and then the different philosophers had varying views, though one had to sift through their semantic games to find them, often to find that they were sometimes more similar than they pretended to be.

Just then, his ‘dear’ brother, Prince Victor, entered the room. “How are you today, brother?” he asked innocently.

“I am fine, Victor. Is there anything you desire?” Christopher answered in his most polite tone, though he really did not want to be bothered at the moment.
“Yes, dearest brother, why don’t we go hunting or something?” his brother asked, and for the millionth time, Christopher refused.
“You know I don’t enjoy those things. I prefer to contemplate the universe.”
“Why can’t you simply leave that to the scholars?! You are so strange, Chris, such a wimp.”
“View it this way, brother. I am supposed to become your advisor when you gain the throne, correct? Who would make a better advisor, a scholar or a hunter? Besides, I am not weak and you know it. I just prefer to fight with words rather than with swords.” As Christopher spoke to his brother, he barely looked at him. He did not enjoy making eye contact for some reason; he supposed it was too much time spent with his nose in his books. Besides, the young man could have sworn he saw something outside, in the sky, flying. But no. It could not have been; it must have been a trick of the light.
“Oh very well.” Victor replied, sighing, though not without the smug and arrogant tone that his younger brother loathed. “But I am the one laughing when the ladies of the court follow me around and avoid you like a leper. Meanwhile, you go back to your cooking and your violin like some servant.”
“I shall. Quite frankly, I have no use for women who see me for nothing more than my influence and appearance. But please just leave, brother. I did not intend to argue.”
“Oh fine!” Victor shouted back to his brother’s polite, almost apathetic tone. With that, he stalked out of the room, annoyed at the mild insults his brother had thrown at him without so much as a glance. With that entertaining dialogue over, Prince Christopher returned to staring out of the study window, gazing at the clouds, down to the orchids in the garden, as if nothing of consequence had occurred, and well, to him, nothing of significance had, these mild debates with his brother were all too common, especially of late.
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