There is untold power in “I don’t know.” A simple phrase that roles off the tongue easier than abracadabra or shazam, but holds infinitely more influence and magic. It can create the thoughts that change a generation and can be the greatest call of despair. “I don’t know” has changed all our lives at one time, if only we had known or never knew. There is an uplifting freedom in admitting there are many things we have no reason to know. With this realization “I don’t know” represents a weight off our backs and infinite curiosity. “I don’t know” is motivation, direction and improvement.
I, personally, don’t know quite a lot. In fact, I can best described it by saying that for every drop of information that I have squirreled away in my brain, there are oceans of “I don’t know” that surrounds it. Milton, of literature fame, once claimed to have read everything printed in the English language, which was perhaps the last time in history that was even possible. This is life in the information age. A renaissance man of today is a stone skipping across the pond. If one ever gets too deep on any one skip…stopped… sunk.
In this day and age of people finding their calling in life at age three and becoming experts with a depth a knowledge unimaginable without computers and the internet, a renaissance man is entertaining but not good for much else. Essentially a modern renaissance man is a well-rounded slacker; jack of all trades, master of none: a hobo of the mind.
With that, this blog is not a collection of answers, but questions. A collection of “don’t know but would like to.” A series of “I think” or “I feel” as opposed to “I know.” My readers, commenters, a dizzying display of radiating rings emanating out through the pond as my rock of a brain skips through. The heartbreak of every man: a splash unnoticed.
Until next week and my first post "How do you like you Blue Eyed Boy?", an odd thought on poetry, genetics and the NFL will be here next week, and hopefully a new topic to rip apart every week after that.
To start things off though, here is a fun and less-disgusting than you think game to exorcise all the Emotional Catharsis demons before embarking on our Cranial Catharsis mission. It's called, things that are "Dirty like my Butt." I am looking for comments of anything you feel is are "dirty like my butt". Here are the guidelines, "Dirty like my Butt" is an expression to use when something is dirty physically, emotionally, ethically etc. It is a simile, so in no way refers to actual butts, NO BUTTS. That is not a simile and is just not creative. Also, the term is relative in that the phrasing doesn't change so you are actually talking of your own butts, not mine. Here is a few examples: My married boss fired me for something his new assistant did, then fought my unemployment so he could pay for her new boob job. He is dirty like my butt; or, that dish at the Indian restaurant smelled and tasted fantastic but looked dirty like my butt; or, all parking patrol officers are dirty like my butt and would've been stoned as tax collectors in an earlier time; or even, Duane Allman's guitar playing is dirty like my butt. Now let's see what is really dirty out there. Catharsis for all you people who are tired of wallowing in the dirt. Government Bail out anyone?
