“Lucky is the man who does NOT secretly believe that every possibility is open to him.” – Walker Percy
Coming to terms with the observation from Walker Percy has been a problem for any age that most simply can’t wrap their minds around.
Over the years, I’ve heard radio talk show idiots, CEO morons, political psychotic’s, bosses, relatives and even sometimes, friends, who should know better, proclaiming the glories available to every individual to work their way to fame and obscene profits if only they gave the effort required (whatever that entails) to secure fame and popularity, is probably one of the choicest tidbits of guano ever offered up to the masses.
These shysters of media, Hollywood and government chicanery, whom have been handed (most of the time) a silver spoon to advance the taste of insanity they were born with – never have had, nor ever will, the most basic of understanding of poverty of life most of the ordinary citizen is born into. And overcoming that poverty most of us are born into, is beyond the ordinary citizens’ wildest dreams – no matter the claptrap from the gasbags of the era.
I can play the piano, badly, most of the time. It is not in my genetic make-up to be the next Mozart, Beethoven, or even the guy at the local club hammering out a melody, harmony or anything otherwise, musically speaking, that might make me think anything other than that I have the slightest bit of musical talent and not much more. I cast the blame of not being able to attain the heights of musical glory to the gods of music who didn’t see fit to give me even the most rudimentary of musical gifts to advance beyond the stage of novice.
I can write, very badly most of the time, and have understood for a long time that I cannot craft a phrase, an idea, a morsel of a food for thought as the great writers and author’s I’ve read my whole life. It just isn’t in me. Alas, that is why I have a website – a daily opportunity to do better.
But “to thine own’s self be true” is something I’ve lived by for most of my life spent in darkness, trying to discern the light before me.
I know beautiful music when I hear it – no matter the medium. I should have been a music critic.
I have a sense of fashion, knowing what looks good and what is hideous. I should have been a fashion critic
I haven’t a clue of the universe, the heavens, God, the gods, or whatever started all this nonsense, but I know guano when I encounter it. Maybe I should have been a movie critic.
And I have the most dastardly and annoying sense of smell. Unkept yoga feet or work-out armpits will send me and my nose running out for fresh air, desperately seeking a whiff of the pure (or even the street smells) in a feeble attempt to ward off the onslaught to my olfactory senses. I should have been one who smells perfumes to determine their worthiness.
Yet having an overly developed sense of knowing BS when it’s presented puts upon the thinking soul a duty to alert the masses that what is offered to them each and every day is a developed layer of nonsense, concocted over the centuries by the shysters of each generation, beckoning the masses to come bask in their sub-mediocrity and insanity…for your own good, of course.
Sadly, most of us don’t realize that the pay-out of swallowing the BS of the shysters of each generation contributes directly to our own demise.
“I have discovered that most people have no one to talk to – no one, that is, who really wants to listen. When it does at last dawn on a man that you really want to hear about his business, the look that comes over his face is something to see.” – Walker Percy
We believe our own BS – sadly, to the extent that we’ll allow it to contribute to the end of ourselves and loved ones.
We’ll call out our brethren if they don’t adhere to the corporate and mainstream horseshit, and cast a downward glance in their direction if they don’t believe what we do – no matter that it hasn’t a shred of honesty to it.
The last bastion of sanity is in our own minds. But how easily we hand it all over to the the hellions of the age.
We may not, individually, understand the genius of the Mozart’s, the Beethoven’s, the Bach’s, the Rembrandt’s, the Picasso’s, the Dostoevsky’s and the Percy’s – yet we each should understand the genius we were born with…that being the gift each of us has been given…to love.
And to understand that the gifts we’ve each been given can easily be dispersed to all when we give of ourselves; and in turn, fight the insanity of the present age of absolute horseshit we’re fed day in and day out, should be the least of what we can give of ourselves each day.
Then and only then might we realize that the individual gifts we’ve each been given are enough to ward off the the madness of the modern era…if only we would allow them to blossom.
“In this world goodness is destined to be defeated. But a man must go down fighting. That is the victory. To do anything less is to be less than a man.” ~ Walker Percy
Tonight’s musical offering:
Bach: Orchestral Suite No 2 in B Minor, BWV 1067 ~ Polonaise/Minuet/Badinerie