Monthly Archives: March 2014

The Death of Wisdom (A Gentleman’s Conversation)

T: I doubt they’ll ever hear of you again.


M: What do you mean by that?


T: You know how it is, you have once chance to flash to them what in in your cerebral cortex, one chance implant your face, your eyes into their minds.



M: I mean if you were making a playful, gargoyle face, frowning. After drawing their attention you quip something nonsensical, like “The grapefruits were sumptuously tart, back in the golden years of mirth.”


T: People might think you were a vagabond theorist or philosopher wandering.


M: Or some complete bath salt sniffing looney, plenty of those in the urbz.


T: Oh don’t remind me of the death of wisdom, the coup da grâce, came with the lust for the Ford Model Ts.


M: My dear sir, those long overdue. Men have always been biting on gold coins, once one cave fellow stole the other cave man’s wheel.


T: Then when did men prefer the golden ax rather than the axiom?


M: A particular moment is when the Gutenberg Press was first invented. Where the information was easily accessible to the commoner, and no need for strict memorization of what was passed down from the elders. No knows much of anything any because we have other sources to remember for us. When technology began extended people’s lives and everything became age-defying, disease defying, no one valued old-age, and old adages any more. We began to seek to out-best and out-last the previous generations.


T: That might very well be so, but are you some tyrannical, monopoly hoarding, Bourgeoisie?


M erupted in a fit of laughter. M: No, no, I’m a sardonically, humble man just wanting to place humanity back down a few notches from the tower of Babel. Now how would you describe wisdom?


T: Well wisdom or virtue is simply the more correct choice, given the shifting variables in an imbalanced and chaotic world we live.


M: You are correct in that but where does wisdom stem from?

T:  Probably as the human brain evolved its left and right hemispheres into a rational, self-reflecting being.

M: May I suggest that Wisdom had to be at the start of the beginning of it all?


T: You mean the Big Bang?


M: Big Pow, Big Kaboom, Big Fart, whatever you called it, it collected was in that, whether it be in divine foresight, causation, we were lined up, atoms, molecules, chemical bonding, atomic fusion. And those amino-acids formed, and life spring from what was no life. As the scientists say…


T: And where is the wisdom…?


M: Course! Wisdom was inherently in that, how couldn’t it be? Could it be chance?  I’m no physicist nor biologist, but it doesn’t even have to take a philosopher to see that, it came about.


T: But this world how wise could it be? I see nothing but chaos in the world, children starving in third-world nations, men who just were healed from a hospital get hit by cars, dogs running into burning buildings to save their owner, only to have it collapse on them, where is the wisdom in that?


M: Ah, but you are wrong in that there are the correct choices, when one decides to stop, instead of cross the street, avoiding incoming traffic, when a mother feeds her child by the breast, when a young person gives his own time to feed those who are less fortunate at a homeless shelter.


T: Those are just common-sense, and also the common good for others.


M: Ah, but it often happens that the opposite comes true. It might be the “default” but there is to fault in saying that there is “wisdom,” to align itself to certain “correctness.” Not in the sense of unbreakable laws, but as the world is supposed to work. There is a great peace in that, in knowing that the law of physics will work in a round of football.


T: But this seems completely contradictory to you saying the “death of wisdom” which was written in an obituary in newsprint.


M: By no means, is wisdom six feet underground, but it is dead, for no one acknowledges that wisdom is present, or even that it is needed. We wheel our elderly into almost funeral homes to sit and decompose. Wisdom was there. We look to ourselves, our own frail, temporal bodies, shouting, “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” The only thing we fail to captain was our own desires.  We exhort that our technologies can save us, our search engines, searching for the unsearchable. For wisdom is far off, hidden, rare as gold, but in plain sight to those who would only turn over a leaf to gaze at every vein branching, connecting like a vast electrical network.


M: Wisdom was there in that spectacular moment when the universe exploded, and continued to reverberate, expand, and grow as the universe is continually in motion. But wisdom died, when humanity gave up finding it, placing trust in absurdity, serendipity, uncertainty, chaotic chatter of a thousand radio and television voices.  For what fun is a life of a nihilist,   but live an existentialist, create your own allusions. Pick your own buffet of religion.  Self-allusions followed by consumerism, driven by the need to placate the inner nagging child of shifting lusts and wants of the heart.

T: Will wisdom be ever found again?


M: Seek and you will find. Knock at the door, and it will open

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you were always golden in my eyes
When I handcrafted, sanded all the rough edges
there wasn’t a blemish in you
I fitted the wheels around you
like slipping on Cinderella shoes
they were perfect
as we oiled them
until they spun forwards and backwards
blurring like an alien disc
and the pinewood resin aroma
transports me to my old grandfathers clock
flushed red
wheeling down the pavement 
flashing your red paint
that wagon
with splintered spokes
ran far away
and that handle scrapped
led me to waste
but you will always be
the only wagon for me

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Doubt (Fictious Conversation)

M: There was something in that moment when she left you, that you felt something die inside of yourself.

H: how so?

M: it was like some potential persona, some essence of the potentiality, or probability of what you could have been was swallowed into the immaterial vacuum of nothingness. Falling into the depths of darkness, only to grasp onto each slippery, slimey pole, yet falling endlessly into a tornado of torrential, incessant thoughts, feelings, patterns.

H: Where do you go from there?

M: Let me dwell on it for a moment..

H: Go ahead

M: Like there could have been a different path, or vein of reality, which could have transpired, and if you were on a different plane, a different dimension, you could always see that reality materialize. I sometimes wonder about that..other dimensions, that might sometime converge into our, where our thoughts, our choices, would be some how different.

H: Everyone lives a certain sense of permanence.

M: You’re right, but it doesn’t hurt to let your imagination wander, to think what could have been, to take the time machine back through memories.

H: I suppose that only gives birth to doubt, to unsatisfactory thoughts.

M: No, it’s more like playing with an idea. We only go forward in time, we live within it, blessed and cursed by every moment of it.I just wonder where she is, what she’s doing. They say that when you get to heaven, if you believe in such an eschatology, that there is no marriage. You think that we’d be friends then, or acquaintances for any matter.

H: You presume too much of your destination, as opposed to the opposite.

M: ::Laughs:: yes I suppose so

H: You could also imagine the state of hell that you would be living in if she had chosen you, accepted you. For all you know you could have diametrically opposed personalities, leading to a painful break up.

M: I suppose that is true. But, sometimes I wonder if I would have preferred the emotional turmoil, the dropping of the guillotine rather than the state of nothing.

H: State of nothing?

M: The state of singular loneliness, a hellish state of no future, no possibilities.

H: You are being unnecessarily hard on yourself.

M: Maybe I am, maybe I keep on returning to this same place, of uncertainty, of wandering through this world feeling like some alien entity.

H: And remember you are not dead, you are alive, in both body, soul, mind, spirit, and heart. And as a living, being with a beating heart palpitating in your chest like clock work, you change.

M: I don’t feel alive always.

H: But, you are, you just have to take your time, to think about things deeply every day, to breathe. Every day we only need to breath, and take one step forward. And sometimes that one step is all we need.


take that essence of nostalgia
and make that, impart that
to be part of me
I lay at the foot of the basement
with the brick in hand
where we wrote our secret notes to be discovered later
I’d be called back to that homestate
sooner or later
and the dogs and cats would be howling
at some time or another
I’d make my way back
to the flayed paint swing set
and we’ll dig our heels in the sand
Lay on the roof, get peachy red
and from that vantage point
judge from the clouds and sunshine
whether it would rain
or not

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