I would be careful, schizophrenia is very encouraged by self analysis. Your wife may catch you talking to yourself and then have good reason to lock you up.

If this kind of knowledge is never certain, then can we even call it "knowledge?"

Bring me my camera. Here comes the Bluff. Here comes the little war dance. Look at him go, ma! He right right right know all. The man who is afraid to suspect himself of foolishness. Mr. Truth is Me. Mr. My Way.

Mr. Comfort and Mr. Handshake are his associates.

The more you pursue this pseudo-fusion which you happen to have rightfully called "foolosophy," the more convinced I become that you are not only unwilling but incapable of doing the real work of a philosopher. We call it "philosophy that matters."

Truth and power, brother. Consider the relationship. Like any true believer, you want to connect yourself to some social pseudo-objective absolute. You need a club with rules or you just don't feel right. I'm happy to play Shem to your Shaun (Finnegans Wake, as you probably find literature to frivolous, too like-a-woman). I will also adopt the truth-as-woman trope as a counter move to your truth-as-daddy implicit trope.

Like any alienated onanistic inanity, you have your reasons for despising Reason. You spit on traditions you are not worthy of. Truth-as-daddy? Were it not for the men who faced reality, you wouldn't have the necessary luxury to subvert (unsuccessfully) the principles you have to thank for this luxury. Yes, Finnegans Wake is frivolous. It's written for the useless narcissist by the useless narcissist. The drop-outs have time on their hands. They need some little toy to make them feel less like drop-outs. They need their pseudo-intellectual pseudo-cerdentials. Truth as a woman? You sell un-truth as an all-forgiving mother to those with a distaste for reality.

If one could truly seperate themselves from "themself" and come to know that self objectively and fully. Is it possible that one would still not know themselves fully. Because at that "eureka" moment, the self changes. Self becomes self + 1.

So, self+1 can know the self that was.

I would wager an adult doesn't understand all his/her impressions, either.

I truly wonder whether dialog with one's self is actually anything but exploiting the absurdity of its happening in the first place.

Perhaps dialogue within oneself is the echoes of what others have said being confronted by your reasoning faculty.

Ahh.. but dialogue with one's self, since it is the self, directly precludes that of being anything of an echo of others' faculties. It does nto come from the same approach, direction etc. etc. -- certainly not if one is to look from an individualistic perspective. Perhaps in a collective sense, and indeed the dialogs of Socrates and a lot of the dialogical apologia found in medieval times reflects just that -- the collective form of thought, where the notion of the dialog with one's self is precisely collective, it is the collective conscious asking, and the collective conscious, the {divinely,rationally,...}-inspired response.