There are all these memories, inventions, planes of supposed reality.
Supposed reality and fiction come together in the terrifying form of the gangster Charlie Costello, played by a demonically grinning Woody Harrelson.
I wouldn't be able to hold on to the supposed reality of our world — I've got a flimsy enough grip on it as it stands.
He declares that modern short stories are either Chekhovian or Borgesian, the first gratifying "our hunger for reality," the second teaching us "how ravenous we still are for what is beyond supposed reality".
His imagined scenarios race through the worst of Roger Corman movies toward the dregs of the latest teen-slasher flicks, and at last the reader must be moved to wonder how the author can ever top these fantasies with any supposed reality.
Now he's the subject of a new TNT production, to be shown on Sunday night at 8. Its purpose, like that of any television biopic, is to foist a sense of understanding on us, to replace our fantasy of what the movie star represents with some supposed reality of who he or she actually was.
A supposed "reality" that is "outside" of every logical possibility of empirical or logical interaction with "it" can play no direct role in the sciences.
It's a time free of the usual constraints of supposed reality and deadlines -- a time before benchmarks and goals are formulated.
The nominalist argues that the supposed reality of abstract objects whether properties and kinds or numbers and sets can be reduced to facts about concrete objects and our ways of talking about them.
On the other hand, theological propositions, having no correlation with material reality, deal not with the facts of ordinary experience but with a supposed "reality" that transcends the physical world, and just as the language of opinion ought to have no place in the discourse of physical science, so the untestable and unverifiable propositions of theology have no place in moral science.
