MS CONSTRUCTED FROM A CHAOTIC ASSEMBLAGE OF NOTES SCRAWLED ON RANDOM NAPKINS

Intro: For years, I have had the habit of scribbling brief notes to myself on napkins or any other
handy scrap of paper only to lose track of them in the chaos that I pretend is my version of or-
ganization.
This really hasn't changed now that I spend most of my writing time on a computer and I
therefore collect a large amount undigested thoughts which I never seem to do anything with.
When I started Blogging this mess became a a treasure trove of brief thoughts that I could
post on my Blog to create the illusion that I had actually been thinking deeply and had man-
aged to condense all of this deep thinking into pithy little snippets for the entertainment of my
followers – or at least I told myself that (and also that I actually have people who follow my
Blog).
Recently, in the process of maintaining my Blog, I read these “Brief Thoughts,” as I call
them there, and two things became clear to me. First, I really need to edit these thoughts so it
would be obvious that I speak English as a primary language and second, they were of a
really uneven for two reasons: first because I haven't always hit the mark and, second, be-
cause they range from attempts at a satire of society to attempts at philosophical depth.
I have left out a Blog entry titled “Everything I Know For Sure,” which was blank, was up-
loaded separately as a Blank document and was a pathetic attempt to see if anyone was pay-
ing attention – they weren't. I also have deleted a failed attempt at a paradox which I can't
seem to fix at this time. What I have left, suitably edited I hope, with additions is, I also hope is
at least of some momentary interest – Caveat Emptor.

1. I need my life to stop (so I can get a handle on all of this change).
2. There seems to be some evidence that the brain is a vestigial organ. Many people
seem to get along just fine without using it and the those who do use it, just seem to
get themselves in trouble by doing so.
3. Are compulsive tweeters called Twits?
4. Not one of us will get out of here alive, in this we are all together.
5. It’s no mystery that in the Rat Race, some Rat will win.
6. Today I was thinking of the word “ephemeral,” as in “life is just so damned ephemeral.”
Doesn’t it sound like a medication name? “Tired of constantly worrying about the
future? Ask your doctor about Ephemeral and in just a moment, it won’t matter.” Off
course for trade mark purposes they might have to change the name to something like
“Efemeryl®.”)
7. “I Tweet you,
You Tweet me;
(You, I’ll never have to see.)”
(To the tune of the “Barney Song.”)

8. The only difference between a “Double Entendre” & a “Freudian Slip” is intent.

© B. W. Reed (December 8th, 2009)

MS CONSTRUCTED FROM A CHAOTIC ASSEMBLAGE OF NOTES SCRAWLED ON RANDOM NAPKINS
9. Why is it that it is always the unexpected that catches us by surprise?
10. Life is a Bagel (untoasted and without cream cream cheese).
11. Having decided, philosophically, the importance of actions (vs. words), I am now
tortured by the irony of my inaction.
12. One man’s delusion is a Philosopher’s professional opinion.
13. Whether you are on the inside or on the outside, you were complicit in drawing the line.
14. Eternity tells no tales.
15. Peace is the momentary agreement between the external and the internal worlds when
all coercion to action disappears and we are allowed to just be.
16. There is no reflected or reflection, but only the Reflector and the Reflecting.
17. The self is the other to the other.
18. An Introvert lives on the inside looking out (with the curtains closed).
19. A good conversation means nothing more than a good conversation. This simple fact
becomes clouded by our egotistical desire to be listened to.
20. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before finally coming to the conclusion that you are, in
fact, a frog.
21. A chain E-mail is just an E-mail’s way of making more E-mail.
22. Was the Easter Islander that cut down the last tree, stranding himself and all his
descendants forever, an optimist?
23. The staccato rhythm/pace of our lives has become so fast that in the rush, dropping
moment after moment, we fail to consider what it is we’re rushing after lest we drop the
pace and be left behind. The pace has become our everything, the purpose of our very
existence.
24. The deepest dialog is an act of Love, more intimate than any carnal embrace, a
conversation that erases previously drawn boundaries between ourselves and another,
surrendering a part of the soul, making room for a beloved.
25. The living have a responsibility towards those gone; to remember them as they were,
no better, no worse; to cry for them, but also to smile in memory. And yet, we also have
the responsibility to sometimes forget, to laugh, to keep living — as they would want.
26. Play the game for them, and they play for just one game; teach them how to play the
game, and they play forever.
27. I have always been attracted to solipsism, the philosophy that I alone exist in the world
and that all others are a figment of my imagination. If this be true then I am a
masochist … and also a sadist.
28. The Story is where we’ve been, the Dream is where we’re going and the Moment is
now; Don’t let the Story rob you of the Dream or the Moment.

© B. W. Reed (December 8th, 2009)

MS CONSTRUCTED FROM A CHAOTIC ASSEMBLAGE OF NOTES SCRAWLED ON RANDOM NAPKINS
29. “Thought endeavors to encapsulate the Void, even though it understands that its
success means its silence, its becoming that which it hopes to conquer, its being
conquered by the guileful Void.” — Kenneth O’Sirus
30. Secretly, I enjoy sowing chaos when the world becomes too predictable. (I am the
“Johnny Appleseed” of Chaos.)
31. I used to have long conversations with myself and I seemed to be understanding
myself, now I am beginning to think that I was just pretending to understand and that I
don't even share a common language with myself.
32. The Fullness is just the Void, marketed with an improved packaging designed by the
advertising department.
33. How many joys remain unrealized because we plant our gaze on the ground, forgetting
to look up and dream?
34. I was going to write an essay titled "On Having Nothing to Say," but I see that I already
have.
35. I have begun to suspect that the World is more surreal than real, as if we are living a
dream,but that, unlike our dreams, we have developed the talent for spinning stories
that lend the World the illusion of reasonableness.
36. The Void is the Tabula Rasa (“Blank Slate”), the empty page that is the world before
consciousness starts marking it with its stories, its calming fairy tales.
37. “The End of the World as we know it will be shortly followed by the World as we've
never known it before.” – Kenneth O'Sirus

© B. W. Reed (December 8th, 2009)