Inflicting thoughts on unwary readers so that I can improve my tyqing skills

Friday, September 14, 2007

Nothing Doing

There is too much to do.

I am a packrat. I have way more crap than enthusiasm, oodles more ideas than time. I am working on a big project, by fits and gits. In truth, it is not a project, more of a tendency. It is essentially this: Doing Nothing (I am as serious as the math teacher who caught you cheating). If I could only do that, and do it well!
I know what you are thinking. Anybody can do nothing and do it well! Right? Am I right? OOhh, contraire, my dexterous brainulators, there is an art to doing nothing. How about an example. If you are doing nothing and are thinking: "I should be doing something," then you are doing something. You have yet to enter into the sublime, my busy friends. If you are practicing the fine art of doing nothing and you notice how well you are doing nothing, you are merely deluding yourself. You are doing. Something. You have yet to master the sublime, my dear dendritic coginators. You know the saying: "Mastery makes it look, ahhh, so easy."
I started by confessing my packrattishness. It is my personal suspicion that all the crap I own, interferes with my ability to not-do. It is, I believe, a reflection of my state of mind. Bluntly put, I am full of shit. Well, at least my head. My colon too, come to think of it.
Up to this point, I have been somewhat tongue-in-cheekish. I will drop that now and get serious. I is my hypothesis that most of the trouble I get into comes from doing, as opposed to not-doing. I also suspect that everybody else suffers from this affliction. Example? Look at the quagmire in Iraq. A bunch of people were so hot on doing something, that they stepped off a cliff and we all fell into a big heap of crap. Had we done nothing, it would have been about a thousand times better. I am pretty sure that if you analyze your mistakes, a vast majority of them were as a result of "better to do something, even if it is wrong." Seriously, take a look, a long look.
Am I saying we should never, ever do anything? Please. If you have an itch, scratch it. Know when to stop. So, in the spirit of not-doing, doo doo.

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About Me

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I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.