How I Feel

"How do I feel?"

The question was posed to me only yesterday, and I admit I have been unable to halt contemplation of it since. I laid awake utterly through the dawn in pondering its deceptive simplicity, an epic conundrum thumbing its ineffable nose toward my helpless person.

It is only now, after 2 Snickers bars and a Ginseng pill, that I feel sufficiently informed to address it on this page.

The Problem of Numbers

Many people would answer this question of well-being with a ranking of between 1 and 10. Responses inspired by the motion picture "Spinal Tap" aside, such linearity inevitably fails to take into account the 3rd dimension. 6 is fine, yet how thickly do we feel 6? How deep is our perception of 3, how engaged are we in our 4-ness? Do you see?

I think that I
can better answer
the question with a riddle:

I think that I can better answer the question with a riddle:

Who knows the pond who has no straw?
Who feels a shovel when it hits them in the groin?
Where is the Blimpy Burger?

The Zen master would at this point say to me, "I have not the respect of your answer to pee upon it." This is why I don't like Zen. Don't get me any Zen books; it'll only make me angry.

For those who do have the respect to pee on it, here is what I think I was trying to say by my little triplet. I think, upon reflection, that I was pointing up three basic ideas:

  • the Taoist notion of needing to directly experience reality in order to understand it,
  • the urge of many to deny what they feel, however painful it may be, and
  • the utter pointlessness of trying to navigate the Division/Packard area.

Some have called these notions ridiculous, but many of them do not own a car.

But As to Brainy Things

The riddle certainly addresses the physical and emotional state of my being; however, there is in it a noticeable lack of consideration with respect to the intellectual sphere. For this, I must turn to a quote made famous by Samuel Longhorne Clemens, better known as 'Twiggy':

"Socrates once said that he knew that he knew nothing. If I knew that, I certainly wouldn't admit it."

I have always admired that lack of confidence in one's own ignorance, and I strive to embody it daily. Long live Twiggy!

In Hindsight

In summary, then, I find myself fairly proud of the ability to express in 43 words and a handful of punctuation that which it would take others a single digit to express. I might add that it is my earnest hope that the makers of the peanut butter and jelly swirled together in a jar may someday find the strength to do the same with mayonnaise and haggis.

maybe that was too much information