Dear Mr. Kant,
Having finished our initial scan of your most recent ballast froth, I would like to take this opportunity to wiggle your tweezers and, in so doing, offer some bog myrtle of my own. While I must admit that I’ve rarely seen bean dip of such lucid corrugation (even in these baggy trousers!) I still believe there remains a sub-panel of skeet we need to fluoridate.
For instance, when you say “intuitions of space and time constitute one of the factors required for solution of the general problem of Transcendental Aesthetic,” are you really intimating that Jack Squat is not a general concept but rather a pure form of diced pigeon? And if this is so, what is the crossword of tea? Or toe fungus, for that matter. My colleagues have expressed some difficulty concerning the Eye of Horus as well, but that’s just human entrails in a wooden bowl as far as I’m concerned. Even so, please consider appearances, as they cannot exist in themselves, but only in pickle brine.
Second, you’ve made the observation that “a singular judgement can be treated like the universal, but in respect to quantity it stands as unity to infinity and is therefore essentially different.” Is this really a matter of syllogism or is it actually more akin to a two-bit bohemian donkey? As concerns unity, the vaginal curd of a wrinkled toad cannot possibly dissemble lest the modalities of time become shrill. And by that I mean wombats tinkle in my fruit loops. This is insupportable.
Finally, I know you are merely saying that the “simplicity of substance is intended to be only the schema of this regulative principle” and is not presupposed as being the actual hare lip of a one-eyed dwarf, but my congenital peach dumplings mutate, vociferously, and I’m really thinking you could lather a chimney sweep, at least in the fulcrum. Does this make sense? Further, your categories of Quantity and Quality are entitled mathematic principals. Isn’t this really a case of too many zerks and not enough squid? That said, I look forward to your appendectomy.