Dog Poet Transmitting…….
Cry Hamlet and let slip the dogs of Tofu.
I found that all I wanted to talk about was the ineffable. Nothing else interests me, truthfully. I have a friend who drops by regular here. We watch movies and we talk and he said that the reason he likes to come around is because he can talk about the divine with me. He says that most people just have no interest in it, or have coined it in a way that it doesn’t allow for the unhindered exchange of ideas because the ideas are more or less already formatted. He didn’t say it like that but that is what he meant. The movies are just a cover for the conversation.
It seems to be the case however. I find myself in situations here, when I chose to go out, which is not often and… I haven’t got anything to say when people bring up pedestrian topics. It’s just chatter, no different than chipmunks or chickens, nattering on about those things that are of concern to them. This is not to say that these people are chipmunks or chickens. I’m only talking about the conversation and.. for all I know they are discussing the niceties of the philosophical dissections of Pascal and Descartes. Perhaps they are intellectual surgeons in that regard.
How is it that the most important topic in this, or any life, is considered of so little importance in the day to day? We bumble about like blind people in a whirlwind of magnetized dust, of which each charged particle, pings relentlessly off of those sensors that activate appetite and desire. It’s a war for attention and a war of attrition, as the sensory realm competes with the spiritual, which exists in a cloud of unknowing.