Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Taco Tuesday - Special Commentary

We return on this Tuesday for more commentary from our friend and occasional linemate, Dr Delirious (@deliriousdr).  He has opened up his doctor's notebook once more to share his words of wisdom with this synthetic universe.  His notebook, like a Taco Bell taco, is filled with all sorts of mysterious and curious things.  And, similarly, consumption of either is done totally at your own risk.

As with last time, the observations of the good doctor are his and his alone.  However, in the hopes of bringing light to the dark corners of his mind's eye, I have employed a dozen high-tech translator-bots.  Each is more powerful and sophisticated than the one next to it, which has unfortunately created quite a battle of egos.  Frustratingly, instead of helping me with this project, they have spent the last four hours techno-insulting each other.  Did you know robots tell "yo mamma" jokes?  I do, now.

Science proof!  Well, Mystery Science Theater proof, anyway

My Self is Always Someone Else, chapter two
by Delirious, Dr (additional content provided by an Ouija board hooked to my old Electronic Football game)

"You have to recognize life, or simply the creation of, being the nothing short of insanity.  When I was around four years old, I saw a werewolf.  I was looking out the front door of my grandma’s house because I heard something.  It was neither fast nor slow, it just was.  He was driving a Ford pickup truck, and he turned his head slowly at me and smiled.  And I thought to myself…that’s what a werewolf is."
---
If you understand the obligations and limitations of the undue responsibility we have as lifeforms, then you are undoubtedly nodding in agreement with our house doctor.  He, and we, is and are forced to assign titles and roles and rules to things, despite a fractional comprehension of the true nature of what we are observing.  The chaos puzzle that exists around us is filled with a maelstrom of illogical ideology.  It is a cornucopia of nonsense.

And yet, we must dig our hands into the metaphysical equivalent of a bathtub-sized jello shot and emerge with something firm and solid with which to hold up to society.  But we don’t want to hold something solid.  We just want the jello.  Why can’t that be enough?

If you look around, you can see the signs.
  • The game of life
  • A cereal named life
  • An awful band from the 90’s named Live

Is this the world telling us to identify the werewolf as a werewolf?  Or, can we use our best judgement, which often only is enabled during our early childhood, to ascertain the reality of what we’re seeing. 

Perhaps it really was a werewolf driving a Ford truck.  And, perhaps life really is a game, or a breakfast food.  We can know things only if we accept it as knowledge.  If it is unaccepted, it is unknowable. 

Our path can logically move forward in three of four directions; if we are certain of certainty, certain of uncertainty, or uncertain of certainty. 

However, being uncertain of uncertainty is an illogical fourth option that will bring about an eon of existential flexibility.  You’re recognition of vehicles and beasts and grandmothers will forever be unfocused.  A fog will exist before your eyes that will not allow you to make out the shapes of absolute-ism.   And, as we know from drive-thru experience, that is a place to aspire to.  

You should be sure of nothing.  Except for how bad Live was.  We are all certain of that.

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