My father has a saying, "It is better to remain silent and appear to be a fool rather than open your mouth and remove all doubt." His favorite word is recalcitrant.
This is the regime under which I happened into infancy through puberty and much of that habituation has remained with me since. It seems that I have been born with three traits--all of which I may very well credit to my father--peskiness, skepticism, and rebellion; which, married together, seem to upset my family and friends and lend me towards horrible fits of self sabotage.
I can recall being dismissed from Sunday School (my mother's idea of raising up a proper boy in a modern, middle class congregation) for calculating the exact dimensions of Noah's Arc and reasoning the probability of fitting every species--both male and female--aboard. To help the class better understand my growing suspicion of accepting the good book as gospel truth, I provided dimensions of the Titanic. I made both Becky and Tom cry. I certainly failed to impress Ms. Whateverhernamewas and I gave my poor mother cause to twist my ear.
It is my nature to be a devil in this way. Just because a person says a thing is so... I don't carry the currency for purchasing such ideas. The most offensive phrase I heard growing up was, "Because I said so." While I relish facts, and prefer them over the fanciful, there is the same duality within me that seems to also exist in most other places we know to look. I suppose that I favor being contrary. I would prefer to examine all sides of an argument or a postulation--and from it draw my own conclusions (which will probably change depending upon my ensuing experiences and data collection).
Be this as it may, it does not make me a critical thinker. I know nothing of philosophy--I couldn't even begin to spell Neichze (see, it comes up bad in spell check). I've heard that "God is dead" and I faintly recall the Socratic method (the invention of which was probably the direct result of Mr. Socrates indulging in a hemlock cocktail).
I will not attempt to put on scholarly airs here. I am no philosopher, no mathematician, no scientist. Hell, I'm not even educated. No, I think I will remain with my feet firmly planted: not within the world of closedmindedness but within the scope of my own limitations. I will take in the contents of this class and the tint it lends to the looking glass of my reality. While I am really trying to fulfill a GE and ensure that I get a better enrollment date for next semester, there is always strata in life.
Because I am conscious, because I am mortal--and consciously aware of my own mortality, I will and do also ask probably the most human question of all: what does it all mean?
I don't expect an answer. But then again, perhaps I should ask a better question.
