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Book 15 *
Thailand to Volcanoes
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CEE

    Psycho-Cybernetics (i.e. “what you believe is true”) is a great jumping off point, but limited. You can withstand cancer. You can’t make yourself jump off that building over there, and fly. You can junk attitudinal teaching, with your own, ironclad attitude. It won’t make Stephen A. Douglas our 16th President.
    One plus one, is not an opinion. Microscopic lenses one can peer through, are not an opinion. That a man named Da Vinci was born and lived and died or a woman named Eve Curie, same deal, isn’t an opinion. Anything and everything between the pages of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which resulted in Pirsig’s shrieking insanity (prior to the book’s contrived ending), Is An Opinion. Indeed, opinion was the touch off, for Pirsig’s insanity. It’s been the touch off, for many a brilliant person. Angle of skew, varies with what is valued. For me, it was a matter of “Leggo my Eggo!” Or ego, as the case may be.
    A teacher or professor, an instructor of any sort, is only as sound as their own, personal prejudices, something none may escape. They are colored by the one who broke their heart that first time, the clique who laughed, the pedagogue who favored others or parents who did the same. These individuals, even those who wrote the textbook from which they preach, are as scarred by a bully’s fist, an employer’s castigation or a lover’s derisive remark, as any flower of youth or other seekers sitting beneath them. Let me assure you, you are beneath them. You could torture them without securing a confession, but you are beneath them. You wouldn’t be sitting there, to their way of thinking, if you weren’t.
    Let’s cut the userfriendly. Once America abandoned judgment via “cut of the jib”, it was all over. That last sentence is an opinion, btw. It’s completely up to you, to make it different. Keep in mind, you’re making it different only for yourself. Only you know whom you can trust, nonfriend. If you wouldn’t have bought a used car from Nixon, watch your ass re0 anyone who spins God, Man or Community for you. There are the pure of heart, in any profession, helpers, idea-people, those with many a cure. Discernment is key. In anything and everything. Some would call it savvy, or a bullshit detector. Without proper discernment, you’re dead. Unfortunately, it is something no longer valued and not something that can be taught. That last sentence, is Not an opinion.
    I recall a teacher, one whom by Fate I never had, whose grading system contained the quirk of starting out everyone, from C. Pocket Pool and Horse A. Round to Biff, Skip, Muffy and Tad, with a big, fat “F’ for their first day of class. Automatically. There, in the gradebook. “F”. Take that, snotnose. The idea being, you had to work your way up. Crawl out from under the unfair, adverse circumstance Life so often sets as snare and bag yourself what you might, based upon nothing more than hanging in there and applying yourself. If you had anything beyond reputation with which to grease your wheels, then, as my Dad used to say to slow drivers, “Kick it in the ass, Mister!” Get moving. Come get your grade.
    Perhaps you look at the Above, as incentive. Motivation. A way to help at least some “get the fire”. I look at it, as leaving puppies in the woods to find their way out alone, after which, those who made it, get a lil’ dog cookie. Those who didn’t, the pack simply forgets. And trots on. There’s nothing to such a grading tweak, cruel whimsy by my likes, which says anything more than, “I Am Flaw, Instructing Flaws to be Flawed.” And, I’m certain it accomplished its goal.
    Nonfriend, if you’re reading this, I assume you value thinking. You’re the fool of the village it took, if you let the village do that for you.
                                                —-CEE, 2/20/13



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