Oh! Look: something shiny!

We’ve all heard that, while the early bird catches the worm, it is the second mouse who gets the cheese. True, it’s possible (in fact, in this era of couch potatoes, more than likely sure) that the second mouse is just a little bit slower than the other guy – the second mouse would have been first, if he didn’t have to heave his enormous bulk off the sofa. But, I would like to think that the second mouse is the one who thought about the situation, if maybe for only a split second (after all, what kind of cheese is it?), but at least a moment longer than his knee-jerk reaction, unthinking counterpart.

Now, for those of us who believe in God, first and foremost, what makes human beings different from the “brute animal” is our souls. For those that believe Galileo and Copernicus and Ptolemy and a whole host of others were wrong (that the universe doesn’t revolve around something, but rather someone – i.e., themselves), or for those that do believe that Chaos Theory is true, and this is all there is, Alfie, then what ought to make humans different from the beast is the stuff between our ears – not the stuff below our ears.

But, it sure seems that “modern” society has embraced the concept that what really matters is the stuff between our legs. In other words, humans really aren’t any different than mere animals after all. A practical application of “love the one you’re with,” or perhaps “shag anything (emphasis on “thing”) in sight.”

Ok, fine: revel in the moment. Live for today. Turn off what few brain cells haven’t been fried by tv or the internet (talk about opium of the masses! Marx ain’t in it.) What’s left? I mean if all we’re going to do is pursue novelty, then nothing else matters. Nothing.

No thank you.

Most days, I am woefully no more brilliant that some cow out in a field placidly chewing his cud; tho when the clouds do clear above Puget Sound, I do look up to marvel at the stars. I can walk into a library and appreciate what’s there, unlike Jefferson’s dog (was it Jefferson?). Yes, I am conceited enough to think that I can think. Not that what is between my ears defines who I am – any more than what is between my legs. A product of reading Latin and Greek in high school, and enjoying nothing more than a good book (or, The Good Book), I kinda think there’s more to life than what’s for lunch. There’s more to THIS life.

John Lennon famously sang about how wonderful it would be if there was nothing left to die for. While I agree that killing is the product of a Neanderthal mind (with apologies to our ancestors), if there was nothing left to die for, what is left to live for? And, in this world, there is so much to choose from, I sometimes feel like Buridan’s ass. Fortunately, there are seldom absolutely equal alternatives. Seldom, is there more than one thing that is The First Priority. And, never are ALL things equally important.

You wanna just follow the crowd, just react, just do, without thinking? You want to lower yourself to the least common denominator? You go right ahead: I never cared for Velveeta, anyway.

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