How I Feel
The question was posed to me only yesterday, and I admit I have been unable to halt contemplation of it since. I laid awake utterly through the dawn in pondering its deceptive simplicity, an epic conundrum thumbing its ineffable nose toward my helpless person.
It is only now, after 2 Snickers bars and a Ginseng pill, that I feel sufficiently informed to address it on this page.
Who knows the pond who has no straw?
Who feels a shovel when it hits them in the groin?
Where is the Blimpy Burger?
The Zen master would at this point say to me, "I have not the respect of your answer to pee upon it." This is why I don't like Zen. Don't get me any Zen books; it'll only make me angry.
For those who do have the respect to pee on it, here is what I think I was trying to say by my little triplet. I think, upon reflection, that I was pointing up three basic ideas:
Some have called these notions ridiculous, but many of them do not own a car.
"Socrates once said that he knew that he knew nothing. If I knew that, I certainly wouldn't admit it."
I have always admired that lack of confidence in one's own ignorance, and I strive to embody it daily. Long live Twiggy!