In 1768, then, it became common for a slight deafening of the ear to bring itself about autonomously. This was, not unlike its present forms, a sort of defense mechanism to preserve the mind in the face of an environment densely riddled with nonsense. But it was not the only such defense mechanism. Indeed, dear reader, you yourself may even presently find yourself experiencing a slight blinding of the eye.
But a history is of little significance for those who can bear no memories. I assume that you are such an individual, dear reader. What were you doing at 12:37 in the afternoon, three days ago? What was the second sentence of this review? I assume that your silence speaks for itself.
When no opposing voice is heard, assertions assume a glorified, if reckless existence, unquestioned to presuppose their own justification. A slight deafening of the ear, then, is a path to this kind of truth.
But, as any avid reader of my reviews shall know, I have long condemned truth for its arrogance. So, too, must I condemn the slight deafening of which I write, for no good can come of it. The true is hardly good, and the goods.... well, I've got the goods, but they'll not remain true.