A variation of writing is in telling others your thoughts, and either instance offers support for the illusion that some permanency has been achieved in a man’s consciousness. Because at a future time, when he wants to express himself regarding some matter being debated, he can point to his written words and preface his present remarks by saying: “As I wrote here long ago in my very first book…” Or, he can remind someone: “As I said to you twenty years ago…”
Thoughts put in written symbols and placed on permanent materials, thoughts put into sound and uttered to another, are ephemeral products of consciousness turned into faux, archeological artifacts. They both afford, as much as is possible, a collectively acceptable form of semblance-of-permanency, but virtual is still virtual.
Those with interests more complex than those of the crowd realize that all of these cultured acts are still just matters of pretend, and, “I hope, I hope, I hope!” But to get any further than being just a bemused observer, if not disgusted critic of this, (and the entire human theatrical piece), you must see for yourself, and realize in your own personal manner, the fact that at the very core of everything men do after they feed themselves is a search-for and attempt-to-establish a permanency in their consciousness.
The sooner you are able to privately, “call ‘em like they are,” the sooner the game can be concluded, and you can get out of that stifling umpire’s outfit, kick back – have a cold one – and watch the rest of the world sweat it out.
Only people who have personal issues regarding moronity persist in trying to bronze fog.
J.