Having Great Thoughts
Certainly. We do have a lot of thoughts and ordinary great thought is going on, all the time. Thought is going on. But you should understand that these thoughts do not always become poetry, or get translated into poetry we could also call “the word.” Some claim to have no problem in the interstitial space between having thoughts and getting it out in words. Well, I ain’t one of them. No. I do not have the technique for that. How would I translate all my fuzzy and “inchoate” (is that the word?) thoughts into grammatical speech? There may be some kind of a (magical or linguistic) method, but I am privy to it because I am not one of the verbal elite. Too bad. Yes, I could try. Perchance I shall win. Well, anyways, I’ll write a few things down here. Unless I make myself sick first. I may see where it leads. If I try really hard to create some really good exposition of some ideas maybe I will really discover a universe of thought, where everything makes sense. But Lord, it is hard. A simple thought requires a long sentence, and yet, and yet, and yet [insert violins] it becomes quite an arduous task to create these literary tomes, although it comes easily to elites, who have the training. But I guess many Americans use more a “vernacular” approach. This seems necessary, in America, in order to get the changes we need in the society. And Lord, do we need changes. Thanks, Obama. For nothing, babe.
I will change something, though, about what I said when I say, above, that great thought is going on “all the time.” Maybe not. There are long dark spaces. But the thoughts are there sometimes! Yes, they are there, but it is not the case that they are always there. They are not actually there all the time. When they do come, it seems awful tough for me to get it into some nice – or perhaps frighteningly brilliant – philosophical paper. For your information a very simple thought, one that takes a second or two to think, may well take five minutes, to write it. Or much more. Sometimes I may feel that there is a flood of thoughts, but sometimes I am blank. I am blank, but: I am never named “Frank.”
I am Mike, or maybe a little bit Jacob. As for philosophers, who after all are the ones who rule in the “having thought” department, I have a problem with them. They want to write out the thoughts even before they have them. The problem comes precisely when we try to explain being even before the facts are out. The factuals of being have not yet even taken wing (ah yes: inchoate). But they are already laying out their words and phrases. The whole nine yards; and, I am not one of those persons.
No, I am not! For example, let us suppose that I see a croissant. I see a croissant. I do not ask it what it is thinking. I eat it first. And I feel the same way about baguettes, bagels and pancakes. Since I am a hungry man, I reach for it. In order to eat it.
I do not wake up in the morning with any motivation whatsoever to ask being how it feels. I am hungry. Most of us are. Everything seems difficult to express. Maybe it is that these feelings are always in movement and never slow down, thus they can never be captured.
I want to think about things that actually exist, ideas that come to me. If you try to find the factual aspects of innate being in itself that is not valid. Anyone who thinks they are doing that, let me tell you something, sucker—you are making this up. There is something there akin to “putting the cart before the horse” but even to use such language is to discuss something impossible, that does not happen, and that has never been seen. The cart before the horse? It would be a big mistake, but we say it as if to endorse the mistake. If a philosopher makes a mistake, he feels he has nevertheless created more. He may think, “oh. I have been wrong.” Then he feels he needs to tell all of us about his mistake. Maybe this is the “life of the mind,” but not in a very good way.
By contrast with the writers, observe primitive savages. The former try to put everything down on paper, in words, whereas the philosophy of the primitive savage (or the thought of the savage) is quite undeveloped, if we regard “development” as the eventual creation of the sense of the articulate Western writer. They (meaning the Norsemen, I believe) believe in all their myths and stories handed down over generations. Now along comes the Western philosopher. This person is going to advance her scholarly work now. She will study undeveloped savages. I am amazed. This is what she does with her major academic credentials! -goes primitive? -studies primitives? She will study these primitives’ sacred myths and stories. Let us now ask: How would that work? How would that work logically? How should we think about this? In what way, which is to say what is the “how,” how would myths and stories that are primitive enhance the career of a Western sophisticate? An academic? Notice that the subject matter once again is error: this time it is the primitive peoples’ errors. It is their myths and stories: their “myths,” “stories.” Or does the Western philosopher believe them? I hardly think they do.
The Western intellectuals believe themselves.
Many traditional peoples have now abandoned their myths and stories, yetWestern thinkers, for their part they build another layer. This should stop. It should end.Since it is senseless.