Monday November 5th 2012
These hundreds of thousands of words occupy me
in a search for The Grail. Which sounds like the fustian rhetoric
of a Pompous Ass. Nonetheless I'm inclined to think this Grail
predates the Mesopotamian cultures whose interpretations we have
inherited. I'm inclined to think it goes back in time to a point
on a line that I can briefly conceive of as the origin of the universe.
And it is not surprising that the word 'point,' as a noun, has at least
thirty five nuances in its meaning, one of which is 'moment.' I
also permit myself the understanding that in my own species, questions
without answers are anathema, or in an other way, questions without
answers provision competitiveness, otherwise the hole is empty.
And this is the root criticism against those who fall into the category
of existential. Amongst the High Priests of my denomination, life
is at it's best when conceived of as "futile passion" against "ultimate
meaninglessness." And inspirational though this is, how much
easier on the mind it becomes when the Grail has substance, as though it
had indeed been held in the hand as a real thing. My job,
would simply be to search for this thing. Then I could answer my
question by saying, "Yes, it's somewhere under the Vegetable Garden."
And I could become useful, reach for the shovel, dig down to the
Australians, so that I might alarm the hell out of a Kookaburra.
The mind of a Possum, is very different to mine.
He has the two sides to his brain, but there is no connective tissue, or
semicolon between these two sides. Which suggests to me that a Possum
Mind, each time he falters, goes back to the end of his last full stop.
This is a characteristic a Possum shares with his fellow Marsupials. I
on the other hand have connective tissues, colons, semicolons and even
commas between the two sides of my brain, and this is a characteristic I
share with Mammals that are not Marsupials. I'll call these connective
tissue, "confusion." Something those who are more cheerful will insist
upon calling "curiosity," a dainty little word, which in its archaic
use implies fastidiousness, or persnicketiness, or nit-picking, or the
condition of nosiness. I am very certain that Rats are better at
negotiating a Maze than I am. And I am told The Virginia Opossum is
better at negotiating a maze than The White Laboratory Rat. Which
means that in the experiment, I would be floundering around, still trying to
comprehend the purpose of the experiment, while the Virginia Possum would be
running the home straight, perhaps with his tail high in the air so that men
in white coats might give him the winning smile along with a trophy.
As well, the Virginia Possum finds himself under no obligation to rake
leaves at this time of year, which in my view gives him a huge
advantage in the battle against meaning.