The Hounds of Knowledge

Knowing Your Destiny

Part 13 of 30

I’m still mourning the passing of an old professor I knew years ago, and thinking of the anguish I felt when he met his ultimate destiny. Mostly because of everything that passed with him, being a man of great knowledge. That was his pride, really, not just knowing things but being able to interpret it for us dunces. (Instead of saying his real name and reopening old wounds for his family, I’ll give him the name Prof. Jimmy.)

From the very start I knew Prof. Jimmy was someone special. We had the first day of class, then coincidentally I ran into him in the stacks of the library. I startled him and he quickly slid a volume back into its space. And pushed the bookcase over, I guess to block my path.

I’ve thought many times about that and how to understand it. I resolved to keep a low profile in order to learn his ways. I was as hidden and obscure as was possible around him. I’d find him occasionally slipping into a quick convocation with like-minded people. And there was a hidden pattern of behavior -- nods, winks, and other gestures -- when they were together. The weird thing is how they covered their tracks, closing doors, obscuring corridors and chutes they may have been in, and, yes, tipping over bookcases.

The more I thought of it, the more I realized how he was compromising our general destiny. As a half-assed student, a very poor student, I used this as a valid excuse for my failure, Prof. Jimmy’s failure on his mission to teach, based no doubt on many other hidden shenanigans.

You know what this did for me? It really was a great excuse, allowing me to enroll at multiple places. I'd just trot out the memories of Prof. Jimmy and immediately be accepted. But I was never much of an academic success, again, thanks to those shenanigans. I got a lot of sympathy, which was great. Because, look at me, how could I be expected to learn when the professors (this one) pulled so many tricks? How could I be expected to do well on any final exam with my trauma? I always lived in fear that there was some trickery involved, something to trip me up and make me fail.

The real tragedy is all I might’ve accomplished had Prof. Jimmy not been such a dope. I might’ve found the cure for cancer, which, even though I’m always looking for a cure, there are still aspects of it that are just out of reach. It was definitely Prof. Jimmy who slowed me down.

The overall lesson from such a travesty is for all of us to bemoan the obstruction of knowledge. The world deserved better, but Prof. Jimmy spit in its face and told it to eat cake. As for myself, this lesson has made me resolve to always -- 100% of the time -- reveal any knowledge I might have that would do others any good. And so my call to professors today is “Unleash the Hounds” of knowledge, and let that be your living destiny, not taking the things you hold dear to your heart to the grave, but sharing them even today with a world extremely dumb and bound to stay that way, given its own choice.

Are We All Crazy?

Part 28 of 30 -- Psycho Squad

Are we all crazy? Who’s asking? If we're all crazy is there someone sane enough to ask? Sounds like a thought puzzle, like we had in college, talking in some guy's dorm room. The weird philosophical discussions we had! Then an orgy would break out and the time for talk had passed. Boys and girls, girls and girls, boys and boys, an occasional priest. Completely carnal except for the intellectual talk and a dash of spirituality.

A few of the discussions centered on interests like this, How do we know what we know? Where do we independently stand to know the truth? This stuff usually came out of philosophy, which I still don’t get entirely. Except it's meant to tie you up in knots and get you flunked. Technically it's the love of wisdom, but since it’s so hard to state the terms and definitions describing reality (which is a mystery), it’s every person, object, or concept for itself. That’s what I got out of it, and it’s helped me immensely with the Psycho Squad. “Screw the rules. The rules are ‘Battle stations, entities of every stripe!'”

I can simplify things: Clinically speaking, we’re divided into two basic groups, the much smaller group, normal people like me. Then the vaster group, those who are abnormal in one respect or another. They may have eaten one too many TV dinners or maybe they were born with it, but they’re decidedly different, confirmed wacko. One problem with me, and I don’t admit anything bad very often, is I only have one Psycho Squad ambulance. If I really applied myself I could have a thousand ambulances and a million employees! But the few employees I have now pilfer me almost to death, so if I were any more successful I'd be completely broke.

Think of the dilemma from this angle: With that many people lost in their mental problems and essentially incapacitated — except for their strange unerring ability to act as criminals — I couldn’t afford to screen a staff with the percentages; they themselves would be 80% psychotic! Just keeping track of who’s nuts enough to be semi-normal would be too much. The only solution would be to have a vast facility and an unlimited number of holding cells for when they acted out. But getting staff who aren't sadists, sheesh!

Anyway, I guess I'm happy enough with operations the way they are. Small enough to be flexible and big enough to keep myself neatly dressed. Plus, it does allow me enough free time to chart out how massive my problems are. I keep a blackboard in the garage and update it daily depending on the previous day’s experience. My PQ rating (psycho quotient) goes up and down, which is my take on the social environment. I buckle down when it’s high and loosen up when it’s low. It's about even now, so I'm simultaneously buckled and loose.

But it's all good. I get a few days rest, the PQ goes up, we work like dogs, then enjoy a few days downtime. It’s a great job. Although I'm stuck with the sneaky feeling that I may wake up someday and discover the real truth, that I've been locked up and sedated my whole life.

Lifelong Learning Is Da Bomb

We can all agree, lifelong learning is great. I've been a lifelong learner nearly all my life. I was sick a few days as a kid and didn't learn anything those days. But mostly -- 90% of my life take away those few days -- I've been learning new things.

One thing I learned is that everyone's different, that is, everyone I've met, a relatively few people; they've all been different. Most of them were as dumb as the next guy, but I didn't tell them. I did what is proper, kept the insults to myself. Some of them wouldn't have understood anyway. Those are the people I try to not have much to do with. On the other hand, it's equally bad to have people around smarter than me. Thankfully, again, we're only talking a few folks, a couple people. Know the feeling?

So how much do I know? How am I supposed to answer that? I know enough to eat when I'm hungry, sleep when I'm tired, stretch when I yawn, and go to the bathroom, usually. And I'm smart enough, if I miss, I take my pants off and wash them. Me being extremely smart might not be literally true. But I am smart enough to know how dumb I am, which at times is damned dumb. So I'm smarter than most.

Lifetime learning, though, that's what we need, right? A few years ago I took the training to be a substitute teacher. Week after week -- what was it, a grueling 8 weeks on Saturdays -- I sat there with other prospective substitute teachers. They gave us in lurid detail the horror stories that go with the profession, but I stuck with it. They had us in the classroom, just observing, and I kept going, right up to the moment when I got the paper saying I passed and was qualified. The biggest thing I learned, without even doing it, is being a substitute teacher is no life for me. The key thing is, I learned the craft, and learned I wanted no part of it.

Now here I sit -- hiding out in the Big City as they work on Grandma's house, overrun with vermin both visible and invisible -- and I continue to learn. I was at one of the libraries and was reading on how you get the taxpayers to pay for house repairs, and believe me, this is going to be one huge bill! Because they have to gut the entire place. Every wall needs replaced, as well as the foundation, and of course the roof. I'm guessing I'll need new wallpaper, and I’ll be shocked if that backed up toilet makes the cut. The library info laid out the attitude I need when I show up at the governor's office with the bill: Start crying before I go in, look her straight in the eye, and beg for mercy.

But the biggest thing I want to share today has to do with you, not me. I want you to get out there, my friends, and get with it! You haven't learned everything you can. With lifelong learning, you'll have more satisfaction, a greater sense of self-worth, and the ability to truly shine in a world of dullards, dopes, and dummies. Just knowing anything, you'll run circles around almost everyone you meet. Just knowing next to nothing you'll be the smartest guy in town. On the other hand, say you've done your level best and everyone's still smarter than you, give up.

I'll give you a great example of lifelong learning, from a couple guys I knew, Clem and the Judge.

Clem was hanging out at his shack. And someone was at the door. He yells, "Hang on, I'm coming!" Then he gets there and, oh, it's the Judge. And what was that look in the Judge's eye, as he led Clem out, away from home into and through the trees, then up into the heights, the glories of nature north of the Big City? Hmm, something to learn more about...

Clem sees what's happening and goes, "Oh, Judge! You naughty naughty man! I think I might lose control of my temperament. I'm breathing much faster and deeper than usual. I might've just found my true calling, yodel-lay! Lifelong learning really turns me on... It's amazing, I swear I'm flush, a little dizzy, but loving it! Yes, yes, yes, I must experience more and more lifelong learning! It's such a rush, my right hand has relinquished the rose you gave me; it's fallen 100 feet to the valley..."

He suddenly thinks maybe the Judge did indeed mean "book learning" for him, and says, “I'm reaching in my pocket for a dictionary to learn more..." But, no, he was right the first time, the Judge had other things on his mind. "What, Judge? You're flipping me over instead? Is this global warming I feel, climactic change? What a huge difference it makes! Oh, oh! Let me drop these suspenders over the cliff, sir! Now, go for it, Judge, yes, latch on to the hair on the back of my neck with your teeth, yes, that's it, perrrrfect leverage, what big beautiful solid white teeth you have --- OH OH OH, yessss sir! You really know what you're doing! Lifelong learning is da bomb!!!"

We can agree today. The wisdom of Clem is the real deal: Lifelong learning indeed done be da bomb.

Super Brain

I've mentioned a few times over the years that one of my pet names for myself is Super Brain. It's done wonders for my self-image but has been a detriment to my love life ("Super Brain knows you're in it for the free meals.") Be all that as it may, the name's stuck. And for good reason, thanks to my super brain, silly. The following is an account born in my meditations just this morning:

Super Brain is alone with his thoughts. At this moment he's monitoring the various energies as they go deep, seeing how they generally bypass actual information of a practical nature, inventions that might help mankind in some way, and veer off into fantasy realms, often tripping over themselves.

It's something like "Journey to the Center of the Earth," that story. I'll note it's a lot easier to make the descent than it may be, looking ahead, to get back out. I can't depend on a rock basin atop a volcano ready to blow. Super Brain calculates the odds. The rock basin and volcano being there, pretty good. Blowing at that precise second, less so. Survival with the heat and the difficulties of landing once blown free and clear, also not good. If that happens Super Brain calculates nothing but pain, discomfort, and a terrible death.

But we're far from that point. Super Brain continues to descend to the depths of himself. I see channels of light, synapses larger than most people's. I'm seeing these are synapses that don't mess around. For a lot of people, they're always shorting out, barely making a connection, but these are ones that receive from the previous synapse and add motive power before sending it to the next. Meaning -- ye gods! -- when a thought starts to occur it's already huge and powerful, but by the time it's fully considered, it's Everest! The fact that I can simultaneously shrink it down and make it presentable to others, as in this report, is itself a seismic miracle. Of tectonic proportions. Super Brain double backs on himself with amazement.

That's something to consider, although it threatens to put Super Brain into many simultaneous massive loops. Still, "Know thyself / Physician, heal thyself," -- if Super Brain wants to consider its own mighty workings, vis-a-vis the relation he has to himself -- although this is where a monumental conscious split might happen -- there's great danger in telling Super Brain to settle down. I must be careful not to become multiple Super Brains, as that would crowd out others from their rightful place in sharing the thoughts of the world. It would be immoral to swallow up all consciousness. But Super Brain is like the proverbial 5000 pound gorilla, demanding free reign, meaning we have to stand back and clean up the damage later.

Thinking on Super Brain's thoughts on himself -- how majestic the peaks -- how awesome and unsearchable the terrible depths, with all the power it takes to make it work -- a mighty surge overpowering all other insurgents! Super Brain doesn't fight the same war twice. Super Brain is a dynamic thinking entity of no observable limits. Although Super Brain obviously could observe them if he wanted. Super Brain's cranial habitation does not truly hold it. Another obvious miracle. Super Brain thinks and thinks and thinks and thinks on itself and remains healthy, ever strengthening and doubling in thinking might.

Now I'm going to perform an utterly magnificent feat, to cast Super Brain's thoughts on terrain and realms very far from it. My first stop: Out by the Tastee Freeze. What do I behold in that far off locale, at least 60 blocks from here? They're still closed. They've been closed for decades. You'd think someone would buy the run-down property, tear down the old place, and put something else there. A Taco John or something.

Super Brain sees -- wow! -- an investment opportunity. Super Brain actually truly sees the possibilities of entrepreneurship. All it'd take is a quick call to corporate, a plan that Super Brain might work out with lawyers -- himself able to guide the best legal minds in plush offices around the square. But is that really the direction Super Brain wants to go? It'd be good money. At first, though, his energies would be tied up in hiring teenagers to make tacos, and he can see -- thanks to the vast energies making these thoughts simply occur -- that would be so unrewarding.

Super Brain is not tiring, no. But Super Brain's vast energies are making the body tired. Must direct energies to recharge. Meaning, looking to the gigantic nucleus of pulsing light and dark right at the core of Super Brain, and sending forth power. Energy to the toes! Energy to the hands! Energy to the vital organs! Energy to the organs shriveling from lack of use. Super Brain must make the body more attractive to potential mates. (Troll nursing homes to find rich widows. Have to get them when they're new, before they've signed over the house.) Like spinach, Super Brain makes biceps anvils, hands hammers, dinghy tattoo on chest a battleship. Pipe is spinning, strident music playing, theme song. I'm a whirlwind of hitting objects with my fist and having them land in a more ordered arrangement. I'm strong to the finish.

Super Brain semi-drifts into a quiescent state, the body relaxes. Semi-drifts, because Super Brain continues forever his activity, now monitoring all things in a mighty way, crickets in the pantry, birds outside, and the air conditioner popping on again.

Must rouse myself and get on with my day.

How'd I Get So Damned Smart?

I get this question all the time, from people I know in the community, in church, as well as online. Everyone wants to know, "How'd you get so damned smart?" I can safely say it's the number one thing people wonder about. Although with their curiosity they challenge my modesty.

It's tricky to answer a question like that. Because I really do have to set aside my modesty and admit it right up front, Yes, I am pretty damned smart. And I'm smart enough not to do that readily. Hence, I've been sitting on the question for a number of months, reluctant to answer it, knowing it'd ding my modesty and sense of propriety.

But today I'm feeling bold! Who needs tomorrow! I'm ready to tackle it head-on, finally to satisfy everyone's curiosity about the intelligence of someone I frankly call "Little Ole Me." Really, that's how I think of myself. I'm not all that impressed, to tell you the truth. Because I know even I have plenty of limits. But my limits are for another day. Today we'll stick with how much I know.

First, let me say I didn't set out to get so damned smart. It wasn't any conscious push. You know, there's always those kids who set out to get so damned smart. They want to be better than everyone else, all that. As unpleasant as that can be for the rest of us, I won't judge them. They swung their way, I swung mine.

My way of swinging in school was pretty much to grasp the basics and extrapolate from there. One thing I'm not very smart at is mathematics. Anything you might need on a GRE or the SAT, I immediately fail. But I am smart at arithmetic! I can add and subtract myself around the room, passing everyone. The way I learned it was, like I said, extrapolation. They said 1 + 1 = 2 and I extrapolated from there. Everything else was easy to deduce from that one principle. So I refused to learn any of it by heart, just extrapolating, however long it took, on the fly. That left lots of time for learning other stuff.

Because it's facts other than math that you can't easily extrapolate. If you know the capital of New York is Albany, it's tough to extrapolate from that that the capital of California is Sacramento. Those are two facts I had to learn, which I only accomplished after a lot of effort. Even now I could probably tell you at least half the capitals of the various states, even ones I have no intention of visiting.

When it came to reading, I literally grew up with one story book. Only one. Which I read a million times, and loved, "Little Black Sambo." You put enough effort into one book, you learn a lot besides just the great story. I learned to love and respect others who aren't like me, Indians, black people, LGBTQ, Lutherans, etc. The only ones I still have a hard time with are Republicans. Of any variety.

In addition, I grew in my love of animals, butter, pancakes, and embraced asynchronous thinking, because who can believe that tigers, running fast enough to turn into butter, wouldn't think to cut across and head off Sambo? Unless Sambo were simultaneously smart enough to cut across at lightning speed and therefore maintain his safe position. Stunning stuff! You could seriously say, when it came to book larnin', everything I know I got from "LBS."

Now I'm old. And it's surprising all the stuff I know. I don't think I'm too far off the beam to say I don't even know all the stuff I know! Know what I mean? It seems everyday there's always something different leaping out of my brain, a sudden occurrence of something else I've known all along. Examples aren't coming to me right this second, but I know it happens. When do you clean an aquarium? When it stinks or the fish die, whichever comes first.

So to answer the question, "How'd I get so damned smart?" ... It all depends. Math, I extrapolated from 1 + 1 = 2. I can balance my checkbook and occasionally have money left over. Things that needed memorizing, I memorized, then over the years forgot exactly half of it. How to spell. I learned a trick from my Mom, to know how words are supposed to look, then when they're misspelled they look wrong. The various principles of life -- the value of being scrupulously honest, for example, and the consequences when you aren't -- I learned by experience, along with trial and error. Other things, the deeper things of life, spirituality and such, I learned by practice, leaping in gadfly fashion from one thing to another. Meaning, I'm a solitary specimen in that regard.

The other key to being so damned smart is to always keep my mind sharp. As sharp as a knife, as sharp as cheddar cheese. Honed, stropped like a razor, keen. So I'm busy thinking from the minute I wake up till the minute I go to bed. Then I continue thinking till I fall asleep. And, if my dreams are any indicator, I don't stop thinking till I get up, at which point I repeat the whole process, thinking again. I'm also a voracious reader, reading while I eat.

Thank you! It's gratifying that everyone thinks I'm so damned smart. Just don't get jealous, OK? You either can do it too, or you could have, had you not lived your life in a completely foolish way.

I'm Very Persuasive -- Thanks For Agreeing

To all the opinions I've expressed on this blog I've gotten very little feedback, positive or negative. There could be various reasons for that, but I've fairly well settled on the obvious conclusion that it's because everyone agrees with me. I used to have a friend who said, "If we always agree, one of us is unnecessary." Which is true, I guess. Meaning, apparently, and I don't say this in a mean way, if everyone agrees with me, they must be unnecessary. Certainly I lived without them before, I can probably manage from here on out.

But that's not the tone I want to take, of course. Because there's arguably plenty of reasons for the continual existence of those who agree with me, if nothing more than their own happiness when we're apart. Plus, frankly, I don't want to live in a world with no one but those who disagree with me. That'd make me some kind of permanent martyr. So it all comes back to my own self interest. You may exist!

But to bring us back around on topic -- hoping for and trying to assure the continual existence of my friends, and the possible demise of my enemies -- what makes me so persuasive? That's something to analyze. I tend to know myself pretty well, but when I try to enumerate my good qualities, one of which would be my persuasiveness, I normally veer off into humility: "Who, me? Little ole me?" That kind of thing. I shrug my shoulders. It's very tough for me to be absolutely honest with myself: "Surely you're talking about someone else ... No?"

Then I turn analytical, as I am now, and pull out all the stops. I go for the proverbial scalpel, and yield myself to the surgery, whatever it takes, however much cutting there'd be, to get to the heart of the matter. And when I'm in that mindset, a lot of the humility falls away, and I'm able to see with a clarity normally reserved for laser beams and binoculars. It's like I'm simultaneously under the microscope and the one staring intently into the eyepiece.

It looks like my persuasiveness has to be based in these reasons:

My Clarity of Thought
I'm absolutely clear in my thought. I'm very good at compartmentalizing data, then bringing it forth as the occasion demands. The clarity is such that very little, if anything, is missed. Therefore, I'm covering all the bases.

My Incisiveness of Understanding
Going along with clarity of thought has to be one's incisiveness of understanding. This is another area where I shine. Data is brought forth, as above, then I work with it. I've always liked the phrase "massaging the data," mostly because I know the therapeutic benefits of a good massage. And that's exactly what I do.

My Ability to Think Clearly
As the data is massaged, it leads to new insights, knowledge, and truth, things coming forth on the fly, as it were. See, I'm not resting on my laurels, the original thoughts I had; I'm progressing, augmenting, and ever going forth, all the while thinking clearly. Clarity of thought is undoubtedly good.

An Understanding Unmatched Elsewhere
This is the kind of thing that could overwhelm some, but not me. After the new data has been thoroughly massaged, we're in the realm of wisdom. Wisdom is such that there are flashes of understanding. These could easily be missed by a lesser mind, such as someone who watches sitcoms on TV.

Unrivaled Thought, Thought, and More Thought
Wisdom alone all by itself withers on the vine. With wisdom comes additional thought, as the whole point of wisdom is to consolidate it for practical purposes, for it to inform thinking and hence behavior. It's when we get to this realm that we've gone beyond the average person. Sitcoms be damned, this person doesn't even have cable. (Which I do, but I'm above average.)

Understanding Like You Wouldn't Believe
Finally, wisdom in action, wisdom practiced, brings us to understanding like you wouldn't believe. It's here, a very rarefied place, where one's understanding is like the light of God, not prone to shadows. You go out on a dark night and the birds wake up. They're completely tired but convinced it's morning!

Thank you, then, dear readers, to one and all, for your agreement with my opinions and views. I look forward to many more years at this blog of teaching and leading you toward all truth, ever to be done with the same masterful persuasiveness you've come to know and trust. Please show your assent to this post by not responding with any sort of comment of your own. I'm already pretty sure I know what you would say ... so again, in all humility, I thank you.

I'll Never Be Ignorant Again

It's been a while now, back in January, that I wrote what I thought was a scientific post on clouds, "The Mystery of Clouds." You'd really think that'd be so long ago no one would care. But I get more mail on that post than all the others combined. As it turns out, science people are very protective of their domain, and apparently I don't measure up to their lofty standards.

Frankly, I wasn't expecting any backlash whatsoever. Because I figured my opinions are as good as anyone else's. Which, OK, looking back on it, I can agree that there can be a stark difference between scientific fact and personal opinion. Just like there's a difference between intelligence and stupidity.

All that said, the backlash looks to be way out of proportion to the offense. Wasn't what I said half in jest anyway? I don't have a clear memory of it, but it seems like it. I said I wasn't sure what held clouds up or how they operated. So I gave my opinion that it had to do with being lighter than air. But heavier than the air above them. As they gain weight they become fog. As they lose weight they leave the atmosphere. I wrote something about wires holding them up too. Which isn't true, but that's the part I was joking about.

To those who wrote in and left comments: It might interest you to know that I deleted all your comments. If you can't keep it clean, then I'm sorry, you're outta here! It turns out those who believe in science are the world's biggest pottymouths. Probably because they believe in science, they're able to harness technology faster than everyone else, thereby allowing them to accomplish so much more, fitting in more activities, etc., like looking at porn, and so they pick up a more extensive vocabulary. Of the four-letter variety!

It was hurtful to be called ignorant, along with all the more colorful ways of saying it. But just to clarify one particular comment, assuming I'm supposed to take your insult literally, no, my head is not so far up my ass that I have to see the sun shine through my mouth. Would that even be scientifically possible? Come on, we must be scientifically reasonable and consistent, don't we, huh? Excuse me?

Still, my Grandma always told me I needed to pick my battles. She also gave me a bunch of good information on psychologically minimizing the various situations of life, such as looking for one fatuous argument against me, then being able to dismiss the whole thing, like the guy above saying my head was up my ass. It's impossible. Something I like to do, heh heh, giving away my most intimate secrets, is when I get in a fight I know I can't handle I just walk away. My way of picking battles is never to actually pick one! You see, Grandma lived in a world that didn't have the internet. She never knew an anonymous battle.Or the scurrilous creatures we now have to communicate with on a daily basis.

But I have my self respect to deal with. And if I made certain claims, ignorantly as it turns out, about clouds, then I want to do better next time. So that's my resolution! I'll never be ignorant again! From now on, before I ever say anything even remotely scientific, I will look it up online or in a book. You'll never catch me saying anything stupid ... ever again!