A Aardvark, An Platypus

As if “The defeation of ISIS” were all that mattered.

Poetry, as a form, is abhorrent to the blog format.

Let’s find a theme, then shall we? The schizophrenic wannabe artist entreats the ADD part of himself.

What about the SUBTRACT fraction, what proportion is it of the sum of all Isaac? Mathematics…is universal! The language Prometheus “spoke” to Bob–icons, gestures, cartoons, and diagrams notwithstanding.

We (humanity now, including its multiple personalities and struggle for identity) use numbers and symbols and equations and statistics to help explain the universe, or the closet around us, as it were or may be. But not is.

“It is what it is”–what the fickle does that mean? Nothing, which is zero, but is it, in fact, even less meaningful than that? Does it detract from an otherwise meaningful moment in discourse? Is this waste of time–this futile attempt of metaphysical emphasis on the thing, whatever it is, or is not, meaningful rhetorically in that regard itself–wasting time, filling a gap when a respondent can think of nothing intelligent to say?

I recently got into an argument with a mathematically minded and supposedly logic loving individual. You may have seen it, or may see it by scrolling down, I do believe. But is Ross Perot’s academically praised, emotionally devoid, artistically-bankrupt logos appeal the most legitimate rhetorical form of persuasion?

Is the appeal to authority–be it one’s OWN?!?!? Or perhaps some group of researchers in some office somewhere–effective? The same researchers who earn grants based on sensationalized media releases? Who legitimized eugenics and claimed that Africans were “an inferior race?” Who studied the scripture and dogma with zeal and persecuted Galileo?

The scholar is only as good as their humility, the readiness of their pencil, the wax they’ve dug out of their ears–on this we agree, immeasurably. Of course, one should read the article, the essay, in its entirety, and do so critically, wary of the publisher’s, author’s, and sources intents and means of filling their coffers.

Where, then, does this leave intuition? The articles that don’t get funded–that aren’t seen. Intelligent design that isn’t science, or scientific, but a philosophy nonetheless? Who are we? Who are we to? Who are we to say? Who are we to say that? Who aren’t we to deny it? It is NOT what it appears to be. It is NOT ‘anefin’ ( gloss: ‘anything,’ in a certain UK dialect which I’m quite sure isn’t Received Pronunciation).

Which brings me back to the matter at hand. Do I really give a burger-flipping fart what you have to say? Should you of what I have to say? There is no obligation. Our words may never form in our tender vocal folds, thought, but trapped, seeking refuge from rebuttal in our larynx. They may fly past each other at fierce velocities–flying off through the walls, through the atmosphere, through the solar system, echoing into eternal empty space, out the arm of our spiral galaxy, bounce around the galactic cluster, burrow fervently, with an intrepid righteousness to the cold, flavorless end of the universe. And then slip through undiscovered astrophysical phenomena and begin, as the ship does in asteroids, at the OTHER end of the universe, much faster now, forgetting how long ago it passed light, sound, and other sluggish, cute energies and particles and slamming in through the backs of our necks, subliminally interrupting our consciousness when the idea sparks through our medullary pyramids (giving atlas a well-deserved breeze as it hurries by) and impacting, like Theia, where the air from our lungs first gave the order for the cords to produce voiced speech.

OR, they may tickle your ears, provoking an uncomfortable shudder, and sink into your consciousness, like water sinking into sand. See, without hearing each others’ words, we all have heads full of sand. It is my high hope that we may continue this and other dialogues, not necessarily between us two individuals, but among humanity at large. We may have different ideas of what the problems are and how to best approach them, but we shall find, time and time again, that we share more sentiments and values in these regards than we do not.

–until next time, my friends and kin. And remember: world peace starts within each of us. Judge not.


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