What is a Writer?

What is a writer, if nothing more than a pair of eyes, absorbing information from the environment, experiencing it, processing it, and finally expressing those perceptions through language? There are exceptions, of course, at least in theory. Educated claims, made by persons devoted to understanding a riddle, plucked and gleaned from limited resources, but which without all the pieces of the puzzle, despite dedication, are the valleys and peaks of scholarly visions. But this is the nature of curiosity and passion — a relentless pursuit for answers, the truth. These attempts are by no means futile or insignificant, but help construct a semi-coherent picture of what may have been. The intention to distinguish fact from myth is a noble pursuit.

And so, the subject which has rightfully fascinated investigators since antiquity, a trend which will likely continue indefinitely, is Homer, the greatest epic poet of all time. Linguistic variations of his epic poems suggest that Homer may have not authored both The Iliad and The Odyssey. But then again, investigators can only place his birth between a span of time, centuries apart. Just think of that. Not decades but centuries. Now that is what I would call a huge mystery. And one must not forget that these works were based on an oral tradition, so once again, there are more questions than answers. Homer was also presumably blind. Really? That’s an incredible claim. Perhaps he suffered from an eye disease later in life. Science has proven that eye diseases prevail in later life. And so, the verdict is out on that one, and for good reason, for it leads to a simple but significant question: How could a poet perceive what he expressed without the use of his eyes? My guess is that Milton would throw that theory into the trash.

Libraries: The Pros and Cons

Pros and cons, you say? What reason could possibly invalidate the use of libraries? Why would some stay away from this resource, this goldmine, so essential to our expansion of knowledge and understanding, which anyone can access, and which many do? It is beyond me to fully explain the reasons for this, for I do not possess that authority. However, I can submit an uneducated guess. But in order to do so, we must first begin with the pros:

The benefits are exponential. The brains of persons who consume immense knowledge are strengthened. Harnessed with the power of the Sun and the wind, branches are flooded with the energy of electricity, the lightning of thunderstorms, all bathing under the supervision of the most beautiful star, which is the source of our existence. The brain is irrevocably altered, brightened. Our brain function capacity increases. This brain is the master system of our existence. It controls our every movement, both internally and externally, and responds at the speed of light, while allowing us to remain blissfully ignorant of its power — perhaps intentionally.

For if it were possible to understand its vast complexity, we most likely would not survive that knowledge. We would be instantly struck down from the intensity of that light. And so, the brain is a benign organism, as well, for it knows us better than we know ourselves. It has its reasons. And those most likely act as a protective shield. It knows, for example, how many challenges we already experience while trying to understand a minuscule portion of its system, and so deems it wise, to maintain that percentage in perpetuity. Why? Because, though we are the most pitiful specimens it has ever come across, it still loves us. It knows it would be an exercise in futility (and cruelty) to grant us the authority to access the maze of its peaks and towers. Such a foolish expedition would be the last line in the slim volume on “The Wisdom of Homo sapiens,” as recorded in “The Books of Time”  … And so on their hands and knees, begging, knowing at that moment they were nothing more than a faint and imperceptible object, pleading and begging their soul to flee its paltry shell…their spark expired.

And so, those disciplined souls who cherish the ritual of the revolving doors of knowledge granted through the lending of books may one day reach a conclusion similar to the one above. But those who are utterly incapable of participating in this ritual, mostly for reasons of discipline deficiencies, well, they may be, unwittingly, granted some added protection.

I once borrowed a recording of Beethoven’s Piano Sonatas, and I became mesmerized. Several months passed — perhaps six, or more, or even a year? — before I appeared before the librarian and explained what had happened. Oddly enough, the librarian chose not to punish me. Instead, she told me:  “Just keep it.”  Perhaps she did this out of pity? Or perhaps she knew I was a vulnerable soul would forever be shielded from experiencing the consequences of the knowledge stated in the previous paragraph?  If so, I am thankful. And I dedicate this piece to the stewards of scholarship and knowledge throughout the world who alone preserve the history of civilization.

 

WARM UPS

Today and today and today

It’s been that way all day, today. 
Finally, finally, finally – 
(But dare I say it? 
Very risky 
Very very risky. 
Oh, well. 
I’m not a Las Vegas Person. 
But this. 
This interests me immensely. )


TODAY
“Things are finally looking up.”
Good day yesterday. 
Good yesterday. 
Did research. 
Relaxed. 
Had my gourmet peanut butter and black currant jelly on country white bread sandwich. 


Listened to lots of music. 
Wrote. 
And wrote. 
And wrote and wrote and wrote.  
Went to bed. Slept well. Up during the night cause I had an earlier nap. Relaxed. And productive. Woke up rested. 
Took another nap. 
Worked and worked. 
Went out to get cigarettes and gas. 
Took Illinois Elgin – O’Hare something, etc., intending to go to Starbucks and spend the afternoon on my computer. But there was no sign on what was formerly 355 for the Woodefield Mall Exit, a major shopping attraction, anymore. 


I didn’t want to go to O’Hare, and besides, I doubted it was done anyway. They started building it when I was still living in the area. It would be years before it reached O’Hare, decades, perhaps. 


Not that I was thinking about the shit above when I was driving – nope. Not at all. Mostly I was trying to figure out where the fuck I was. I landed several towns away and in a different direction. So I decided to make a left at the intersection. The street was broad and had several lanes in both direction and was empty. 


I pulled into the outer left-turn lane. There were 2 outer left-turn lanes, land the light was red, so I relaxed a bit, and thought about getting my google navigation out, to help me find my way back to Woodfield. 


The other lanes, to my right, had green lights. But traffic was extremely light. So I sat in my lane and waited for the red arrow to turn into a green arrow, while the other lanes – on both sides of the road – were green. 


My focus was ahead. 


BOOM
BAM
CRASH
CRASH CRASH
BAM
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED! 
Fuck!  I was hit. 


I WAS OKAY. 
PRETTY MUCH. 
FOR A WHILE. 


The seat belt locked me tight against the seat. That was the most painful. 


Aside from splitting my upper lip (my first ever!) I felt physically okay. But my brain was no longer intact. Who knows what chemicals it was awash in now?




My Brain was in Shock. 


The absurdity of what I have so lovingly titled, THE ODYSSEY OF INVISIBILITY, of events – totally, outside of my control – would rival Voltaire’s Tale. 


Eventually, you start to wonder why Today keeps looking the same?
You’re cursed!


And the day keeps changing and looking the same. 
Today and today. 
However
I would rather not 



Diagnostic Statistic Manual Needs A New Presciption To Describe What Tunnel Vision Obsessed Them To See Human Behavior In A Profoundly Limited Piece Of Fabric

You gotta admit. Something is not right up there? They construct full mosaics of people and strip them of their authenticity as humans. This is utter nonsense.  
HM
Who are these fools who have been in Medical School for 8 years – 
And, this is it? 


This is the product of their knowledge?  


Playing with scissors and construction
 Paper?