My First Book

                                            COGITO COGITO ERGO COGITO SUM:

                                 I think that I think, therefore I think that I am—A. Bierce

                                                                March 29, 2025

When events unfold in such a way that an editor would change the verb to unravel, I take the elevator to the top floor of whatever mental structure I haunt at that time. This allows me some perspective both geographically and temporally. It seems logical to scan the human experiment, seeking clues within the wonderfully random flukes that got us fallible flunkies into our present predicament. In that rarified atmosphere, questions occur to me. Did our ancestors eat some succulent mushrooms that scythed their brains with psilocybin? Did their shaman explain their altered consciousness through metaphor? Did he say that they had crossed an ethereal threshold? Do caves have thresholds? [Etymological aside: Did you know that thresh (straw) was used as flooring and that piece of wood under the door held it all inside, hence the name threshold?] I digress. Back to the questions: Was it possible that an ambitious “holy” man asserted that he was the gatekeeper, or, more ambitiously, claimed that he was the one who brought it all about? Perhaps they owed him obeisance. Perhaps he didn’t just find those mushrooms, he created them for his people. It’s what any loving father would do. And fathers who truly love their children don’t mollycoddle them because they must be tough enough to face the dangerous world that exists just outside the tribe’s embrace. Rereading this paragraph, I must note that perhaps the air up here is too thin. [Sigh]

Fathers in antiquity were fierce. People in any era want safety. It’s not hard to imagine that, over time, ambitious, observant Alphas took two parts ferocity, one part divinity and a handful of legerdemain to create the missing puzzle piece that completed the communal mind—a God/King who would protect them. Throughout history many men have sought that mantle. God helps them that helps themselves or so goes the saying.

Humans seem genetically predisposed to accepting a spiritual being who “completes” them, or at least shields them from life’s struggles. A geneticist, Dean Hamer, wrote a book about a “God gene.” He pointed to SLC18A2, also dubbed VMAT2 (vesicular monoamine transporter 2). I know that’s a lot of letters and numbers in all caps, but there won’t be a quiz; read on. VMAT2s modulate monoamines in the same way brains metabolize many psychoactive drugs like psilocybin. Dean postulated that having “spiritual” events had some positive evolutionary effect. For one, it allowed clever elders to gain prestige which could be beneficial if those leaders liked their people more than they lusted for power.

These are the thoughts that waft about the ozone in the Otis-built car at the top of the shaft. It reveals the innumerable times that the masses gladly ceded crops or coin for peace of mind. Their thinking: “Daddy will protect me and my family. And since He is divine, I can pray for an even bigger crop to offset the tithe to my liege.” Then, breaking my reverie, the spirit of Ambrose Bierce, in the form of cigar smoke, drifts in through the vent above the Max. Wt. sign. I recall this definition from The Devil’s Dictionary: “Religion, n. A daughter of Hope and Fear, explaining to Ignorance the nature of the Unknowable.” The elevator car begins to undulate in synch with the quivering of my tittering body. “One more!” I plead to the blue-grey smoke swirling about, nearer my God to thee. My prayer is answered (aren’t they always in some form?): a disembodied voice fills thin air. “Faith, n. Belief without evidence in what is told by one who speaks without knowledge, of things without parallel.” It is then that I hit the down button.

The descent is rapid, but there is time to process. “Yes!” think I. There IS free will. We can accumulate all the facts, assess them and act accordingly. The rub is that the eyes with which we view these facts and the brain with which we analyze these facts has been manipulated over eons by evolutionary forces that sculpted their shape.  Humans want a benevolent shepherd. We are possibly hard-wired for that. We can accept an exacting father figure who punishes us when we break our covenant. However, our father’s duty is to take care of his children. Period. There is NO ambiguity there. We are US. We are U.S. They are the others. They can’t even agree on the pronouns. I am pro-nouns. I am pro-verbs. I will now quote some Proverbs.

So, let us end with a few of those that, in this surreal world, will likely foster some cognitive dissonance. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and discipline.” Proverbs 1:7. Hmmm. My father-in-law, Wayne Garner, always said, “Let the Bible interpret itself.” Sage words. Of course, he would then immediately proceed to interpret the biblical admonition in question. I will merely point out that I see LOTS of people in this administration despising wisdom and discipline. Could one then assume foolishnessis afoot?

“Trust the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own understanding.” Proverbs 3:5. Which dovetails nicely with, “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice.” Proverbs 12:15. Both of these, Wayne might note, advise the wise to open their eyes and value the lived experience of counsellors. Solipsism is stupid. Sycophancy sucks. Anyone seen any admin seeking advice? No? Just the vice part? Yeah, that tracks.

So, here I sit, pen in hand, legal pad on the table, having ascended to extraterrestrial heights, and alit, anew, askew. What to make of all this? America is amorphous. Chaos is the governing principle. We are being governed by those whose principles are cash negotiable. I lament for naively believing America’s foundation was built upon more than a “gentleman’s agreement” to observe norms developed in good faith over 250 years. In days of yore, the president respected the office of the presidency because it was worthy of respect. People taking an oath believed it was more than a collection of words; it was a living construct vital to the life of our nation. That was before history morphed into hysteria.

Today, the money changers are in charge of the temple. The law makers shield the law breakers. The judges stanch the grudges. And, despite verifiable facts, there are 30% of the populace inoculated from them. On a cerebral level, the age of the dinosaurs has returned. The reptilian portion of the brain has devoured the frontal lobes. The sun has the power to warm cold-blooded beings, but troglodytes live blissfully in darkness. Willful ignorance is the currency of the realm. Erudition is called elitism. That is why children are suffering from liver damage in Texas. Robert Kennedy has convinced well-meaning but ignorant parents to give their kids massive doses of cod liver oil to prevent measles. But the vitamin A therein contained wreaks havoc on immature systems. Never mind that the measles vaccine is 95% effective and doctors only give large doses of the vitamin in severe cases AFTER the patient has contracted the infection. There are no thresholds to cross for cave dwellers. They will never declare, “That’s the last straw!”

There are myriad examples a writer could put here to reinforce the point, but I must stop; it is too depressing to press on. So, I will end with this quote from a personal hero, Bertrand Russell. “Most people would sooner die than think; in fact, they do so.” Cogito, cogito. . .

The Pathetic Peripatetic

The What? 

The PP. 

Excuse me! 

I know! It's so puerile!

So what?

Puerile? From the Latin, puer, meaning child. In English, the word means silly, childlike, immature. Let's skip the pronunciation because you are reading the word. Oh, you might want to use it aloud to impress your friends or intimidate your enemies? No? You would simply like to "pronounce" it in your head if you come across it in your reading (as you just did!). [pyoorəl] There. Now, we can both say it. 

With that out of the way, we can begin to explain the name of this blog. Here goes: Pathetic is used in the sense of having or being full of pathos. I am thinking of its ancient Greek meaning of feelings and emotions, not that of pity and suffering. For Peripatetic, we harken back to those Athenians again--Aristotle and his ambulating students strolling around the grounds, thinking out loud and pondering the questions of the day. Yeah, those guys. They were collectively known as the peripatetic philosophers. 

I put those concepts together because we are all walking around philosophizing--trying to make sense of the world by learning things about it. It's that learning that this blog will be about. Confession: I also put those words together because they are alliterative and playing with language is fun. Yes, it is. No, it is not puerile. Puns possibly are puerile, but not alliteration. Tsk! Tsk! 

With that, I beg you to read a blog or two. They will explain more than merely the title. Get your two cents ready. You will soon be sought to add your thoughts to this blog. Won't that be edifying? And fun!!