Having Sense
To the individual who maintains, whilst laboring under the burden of numerous menial jobs, that sense is defined as seeing the small victory inherent in taking a dump so clean that wiping is unnecessary, I have only to say so much as that small victories do not win wars. In shy numbers of two or three, a small victory is a concession to the hands of intimidation and irresolution.
Only in vast numbers do small victories expound any inkling of conquest, but a thousand small victories are small victories no longer. Even so, ten thousand clean sweeps on the toilet reflect no greater a success than managing to brush one's hair in the early hours of a long work day ahead.
More so, what are one hundred thousand conviction-less victories, if not degrees of tolerance explored by a people worked so hard that they think their lot in life is a rite of passage?
There exists a significant collection of servants who are absolutely certain that working hard and studying harder will allow each and every one of them permission to the bottomless vaults of opportunity. I had hoped, in the retrospection of our darker historical moments, that we ought to have learned the incompetence of absolutes, for it is the absolution of God that gave credence to the shackling, chaining, and beastialization of the common person some time ago.
At present, the veil of godly good - which allegedly reveals itself to those who accept their lot in life - is replaced by the gracious intellectual conversance offered to those hard-working microbes who barely manage to deplete their and their mother's assets to enter into the convent of penury fetishism.
By all means, seat yourself proudly among the disciples of the Buddha, Gotama, but bear in mind all the while that there is nothing more frail, more vulnerable to sickness and plague, than the act of seeking that which is taught.
Indeed, any item which is taught, which is dressed in the ceremonial garb of curriculum, is preordained - set in motion and gradually pulled down by the gravity of hegemonic determinism. It is sense rather, for those who dare lift their eyes from the thousandth edition of a color-print textbook, that an education is predicated upon failure; to understand is to not understand; to find truth is to be lied toward. Thus, as Gadamer and others wisely sermonize, in negation alone does one arrive at the very same nirvana that once baptized Siddhartha.
Only in vast numbers do small victories expound any inkling of conquest, but a thousand small victories are small victories no longer. Even so, ten thousand clean sweeps on the toilet reflect no greater a success than managing to brush one's hair in the early hours of a long work day ahead.
More so, what are one hundred thousand conviction-less victories, if not degrees of tolerance explored by a people worked so hard that they think their lot in life is a rite of passage?
There exists a significant collection of servants who are absolutely certain that working hard and studying harder will allow each and every one of them permission to the bottomless vaults of opportunity. I had hoped, in the retrospection of our darker historical moments, that we ought to have learned the incompetence of absolutes, for it is the absolution of God that gave credence to the shackling, chaining, and beastialization of the common person some time ago.
At present, the veil of godly good - which allegedly reveals itself to those who accept their lot in life - is replaced by the gracious intellectual conversance offered to those hard-working microbes who barely manage to deplete their and their mother's assets to enter into the convent of penury fetishism.
By all means, seat yourself proudly among the disciples of the Buddha, Gotama, but bear in mind all the while that there is nothing more frail, more vulnerable to sickness and plague, than the act of seeking that which is taught.
Indeed, any item which is taught, which is dressed in the ceremonial garb of curriculum, is preordained - set in motion and gradually pulled down by the gravity of hegemonic determinism. It is sense rather, for those who dare lift their eyes from the thousandth edition of a color-print textbook, that an education is predicated upon failure; to understand is to not understand; to find truth is to be lied toward. Thus, as Gadamer and others wisely sermonize, in negation alone does one arrive at the very same nirvana that once baptized Siddhartha.
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