Metaphors to Live With, Chap 2

METAPHORS TO LIVE WITH

CHAPTER 2:  THE IEAA THAT THERE IS ABSOLUTE OBJECTIVE TRUTH IS NOT ONLY MISTAKEN BUT SOCIALLY AND POLITICALLY, NOT TO MENTION CULTURALLY, DANGEROUS

            It would be understandable, at this juncture, if you prefer to re-read what has gone before to catch the missed elements of plot.  Not that it’s irrevocably understandable:  that would not make sense in the least.  I have yet to encounter an it that is understood to its fullest, irrevocable terminus.

            Which may, as will most likely be determined or not, only speak to my lack of either.  That is, a) encounters, or b) irrevocabilities.  Or, even, c) terminus.  Said earlier spoken- of determination to come from any number of sources.

            This number of sources could be either outside of my influence, or but and directly within my current influence.  However, I would be amiss to lead astray:  my current influence is very small.  How?  Miniscule, that’s how.

            You might have guessed by now that much of this is a set-up for the story to come.  By this, I mean the what is seemingly interminable worrying over the slightest twist in a phrase.

            It’s as painful for me to write it as it must be for you to read it.  The writing, I mean.  The interminable worrying, I mean.

            Not, frankly, that I originally intended – which is awkward – to speak of either sources or influence.  Much less, irrevocable and its offspring.  Is why the move to frankly.

            Which, again, frankly, serves no better than irrevocably.  But so to return, again.

            Here I am.  With, again, despite my preferences otherwise, an issue unnecessarily complicated.  Something, that, by the way, always happens. 

            Or seems to. 

            This might be the beginning of the story I earlier said was to come.

            Meaning, of course, at some later point.  The coming, I mean.  The story coming, I mean.

            But seems.  Seeming pretty much normally becoming the actuality eventually unless you are guarded against such occurrences.  As I have, pretty obviously even to the untrained eye, not been.  Guarded, that is, against et cetera.

            It is not too late, I hope, to mention that the here where I am is a small room, practically bare. 

            Much of this I will feel the need to return to.  Much, like the just prior late.  Which promotes some of the same problems as the earlier new. 

            Because as opposed to what, precisely?  Or, as measured against what, precisely?  Or beside, even, if not against. 

            It is not late, I hope, to mention et cetera not carrying the same heft, if you will, of the prior it not being too late, I hope(d), to mention et cetera. 

            I am not clear that the previous statement is as clear as I might wish it to be.

            The second late, though, here begging the too.

            One could rightly ask, what’s not too late?  What’s the it that might or might not be too late, one would say if one were asking. 

            If we can, we being I and you, accept, for the moment, that one serves in this instance of use as an us until something else is established.  The something else meaning a better term for the us the one is currently standing for.  Which is to say, the something else not meaning that something new is being or will be introduced. 

            Which is not to say that something new will never be introduced.  Because, obviously, there will have to be something new.  Which simply might, yes, appear without introduction. 

            But it is here the appearance that will be of import and not the whither of introduction or immediacy.

            This, of course, might not be the beginning of the story I earlier said was to come.

            But it is here the appearance is not as clear as I would, perhaps, imagine.  It to be, I mean.

            I have to learn how to un-ask the questions I ask, by the way.

            I could mention, by way of instance, that there is a chair in the small room.  A straight-back, pine, un-cushioned.  And a table, plain, four-legged, as though that matters.  The amount of legs, I mean.  As though the amount of legs matter. 

            By way of instance of what, exactly, I am not clear. 

            Although, it does occur that to rightly be a functioning table, it would of some necessity need more than, say, two. 

            Legs, that is. 

            Even if the two were extremely well-positioned.  Because, still: would, inevitably, not work, and would be, again inevitably, termed as something other than a table. 

            Maybe termed, for lack of a better designation, as a broken table, as with only two legs it would appear to never actually function as it should.

            Hence the term broken.

            We are now, as one (see previous note for explanation of what constitutes one) would say, getting somewhere. 

            So much to discuss. 

            Because, now:  here I am in a small room, practically bare, with a pine, straight-backed, un-cushioned chair, and a plain, four-legged table.  Also, by the way, most likely, pine.

            Which still does not, I am aware, do complete justice to what is the here where I am.

            I am not unaware that too much attention could be said to have been paid to too many details.  I am also not unaware that this awareness presents plenty of problems in and of itself.

            And but not that it will or should make a difference but the Great Man himself would have and has already stopped paying attention.  So, if you should also stop, you will not be the first to, or alone in your decision.  To stop paying attention, that is. 

            The it that will or should make a difference being the knowledge that the Great Man has or would have already stopped. 

            Paying attention, that is.


© 2012 – Mark A Douglas