﻿Look In Your Files, Boys. 
Our country (good ol’ USA) is cursed with a scourge of philosophers, “ipsi, what you call it.” A philospoher is a man who knows little of everything and nothing much about anything. It is only when thorobread grief strikes them that exiegencies of the circumstance force them to think thru. They average an intelligence of about 2 per cent. (Labors average is much higher, say 60-40.) A philosfers background is moss grown and hazy and he lives in association of facts (a divided value) and a comparative world. He dares not embrace truth and fondles half truths to hide his inferiority complex (I don’t like that last word but pilosofers prefer it to the one I had on the tip of my tongue.)— 
Let us have practical men who will weigh and consider things not by relation but by merit (unrelated merit, I was going to say)—(There goes the dinner bell!)— 
Then there is the inherent sweetness of relationship, that cannot be denied, that gives the inter related objects and exaggerated weight in philosofical eyes and betrays their very reasoning. (Pretty near came saying it that time—men have probably been trying to say that since the world began). 
Relativity then is false 
(I’ve been called in that one).