PINE NUTS – Philosophy
August 20, 2024 | McAvoy Lane
Philosophy to me is a little like analytical geometry, you learn about it in college, then never ever use it. Granted, I have tried to visualize what the first philosopher, Thales, told us, “All things are full of gods.” But to me, a rock is still, just a rock.
Please believe me when I tell you that I have tried to ascribe to the notion implanted in my head by Plato, that, there is a transmigration of souls, though I kinda doubt it.
In full disclosure, I have gained some stoic calm from Seneca, “To mankind, mankind is holy.” I would like to have hung out with Seneca for a weekend, though I suspect he would be drinking Diet Mountain Dew, and not laughing at my jokes.
Kierkegaard might be better company for me. A friend gave me a bottle of Bareknuckle Brandy with these instructions on the label: “Pour two ounces in a snifter, neat. Serve with a cigar you cannot afford, and some quotes by Kierkegaard, because Bareknuckle Brandy is a joke that took nine months to distill, barrel aged in Scrooge McDuck’s pile of cash.”
Darwin’s Natural Law of Adaptation once enabled me to jump out of the way of a teenager’s first day on an electric bike, and live to tell about it.
Yet hard as I try, I cannot wrap my brain around the infinity of space, or the eternity of time. Only when I stop trying, and drop the subject out of mind, can I savor the sweet taste of serenity.
The word “philosopher” defines, “one who loves wisdom,” and philosophers will continue to search for the meaning of life, God love them. Personally, I don’t love philosophy, but I do like philosophers, just as I don’t love poetry, but do like poets. To subscribe to one philosophy or another, you must have a certain amount of faith, and as our mutual friend Mark Twain reminds us, “Faith is believin’ what you know ain’t so.”
I remember my wonderful high school teacher, Ms. Mosure, who assigned us seniors the almost impossible task of writing our philosophy of life in 500 words or fewer. Well, I no more had a philosophy of life than I had a pet alligator, so I wrote down five jokes of one hundred words each, and handed in my paper. She gave me an F, a grade I was fully expecting and deserved.
Five years later, while fighting with Marines in Vietnam, I sent Ms. Mosure a letter asking her forgiveness. I only wish I could take her to brunch at the Hyatt today, as she must be smiling down from above at the fact that I handed my paper in five years late, and remember her fondly in 2024. Good teachers have good lasting effects on indolent students.
Just here, we shall leave the last word to Marcus Aurelius, “Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one.”