I am getting rusty. When I was trying to explain phenomenology and hermeneutics to someone, the best I could do was quote a) the song by Pulp that I keep bringing up and b) a dodgy 80s comedy starring C. Thomas Howell as a white kid pretending to be black so he could go to Harvard.
Rent a flat above a shop Cut your hair and get a job Smoke some fags and play some pool Pretend you never went to school But still you'll never get it right 'cos when you're laid in bed at night watching roaches climb the wall if you called your dad he could stop it all
I think, though, I have probably conflated the term with stuff like the habitus and personal biography and all that. Do I care anymore? Nah. There was a time when knowing my Gadamer from my Husserl from my Habermas from my Heidegger mattered to me. Strange days, they must have been. No more.