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Who knows – I mean…really, for sure – if there’s a Santa Claus, Virginia?
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The world and life as we know it is full of hoaxes, tales and superstitions.
The words “I believe” are nothing more than a personal expression of faith…with the feet of the one uttering their own account being firmly planted in the middle of thin air.
Nobody can dispute either the personal belief choice or a claim of individual experience, often expressed with sincerity. I mean, you can try if you want to – just don’t be rude or inconsiderate or obnoxious or pompous.
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Those who are dismissive of things contrary to their own calculations comprise a unique and often offensive species.
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People are funny; the human race that is. Funny in the odd sense.
This is where the I believes roost.
Some hear voices,
. see revelations,
. and feel things, beyond a doubt –
. things certain, sure and absolute.
Seems like a bunch of nonsense.
Seems like a recurring phenomenon.
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There is no age or era without examples of whacked cuckoo birds flapping their wings and prancing about, essentially hollering –
. hey everybody, look at me…look at me.
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But methinks we ought to be as tolerant as we absolutely can be.
Methinks this ain’t easy! There are always three groups.
The sure and convinced in favor of.
The sure and convinced in opposition to.
And, the 60% in the middle – not so sure, but leaning.
As the 60% goes, so goes the herd. They are followers. Not activists. Not leaders. Not egomaniacs. Shy, pensive and frequently frozen, they are noncommittal and indecisive.
What is it? Fear, confusion, a lack of confidence?
Who knows.
Never forget that the middle 60% is the target market. Swaying them is where the game is won or lost.
Politics.
Revolution.
Religion.
…matters of substantial gravity
Is there really such a thing as Santa Claus?
. YES. NO. maybe, maybe not
One category of I believe includes the question…
Does God exist?
. YES. NO. maybe, maybe not
Methinks there is a great stake in this controversial (not really) subject. Meknows this meager blog post can’t do justice to the question.
I do submit, however that a crucial component of the bonum publicum includes…
the formation of we believe expressions of fatih
We the elders pass along to successive generations, the opportunity to make the we believes a part of their I believes.
Nobody is exempt. The young have only their paltry self to draw upon as they choose. Little do they realize they have limited experience, knowledge base and cognition guiding their selection.
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To put skin on this illustrative skeleton – it’s like a child who’s found a puddle beside a great and mighty river.
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The puddle is cute, but – really child there’s something much greater, something of might and glory and awe beyond you; it’s a river. Nascent eyes cannot see it, nor can their developing brain fathom it.
There is a golden path left for us to journey, should we choose. It is the subordination of the I believe to the we believe.
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I’ve exceeded the 500 word limit, quit writing…stop…done…cease.
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This week my path crossed a piece written by Ryerson Literature Professor Randy Boyagoda. It is well done and has been trapped inside my head. His thoughts are worth mentioning.
Boyagoda advocates that literature, specifically – fiction, serves us well as a tool to convey and express the we believes. This insight is revealed in his critical observations of a smokin’ hot young author, rising fast on the horizon of fame.
An atheist, narcissist, nihilist – his non-fiction is selling like hotcakes.
Follow what Boyagoda says: when a writer employs the non-fiction genre, they’re just telling their version – spouting advice, saying – hey, here’s the deal. In this case, a youngster explaining life, the world and the interface of the two Barking I believes.
Boyagoda quotes the author,
“[F]or many people in the post-transcendent twenty-first century, death is not a passageway to eternity but a brute biological fact. We’re done. It’s over. All the gods have gone to sleep or are simply moribund. We’re a bag of bones. All the myths are empty. The only bravery consists of diving into the wreck, dancing/grieving in the abyss.”
These words were written by David Shields in his book Reality Hunger.
Boyagoda demonstrates, using Shields’ prose – a prime example of youth’s tendentious affection for and belief in the sufficiency of – personal opinions expressed as an I believe.
Remember the puddle?
Contrast that with the famous poem by Robert Frost:
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Frost uses fiction to contemplate the deeper beauty and meaning of life. His words are provocative. Shields’ are fatal, dull and cold.
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In my advocacy of the bonum publicum, I argue for the we believes. This is what the golden path consists of, taken long before our appearance on the cosmic scene. Naturally – I respect that it is one option of many.
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As for me, my tour guide won’t be those who espouse merely their I believes.
Age has afforded me many benefits. I’ve checked out the golden path. I like what’s there. I agree with those who’ve deemed its tenets valid, worthy and true.
My choice is, my feet shall not depart from this course.
I join with the we believes that precede me.
You?
peace.
Tom
(Here’s the link to the full Boyagoda article written for First Things: Faith in Fiction )
Tagged: belief, certainty, confidence, doubt, faith, opinion, smarty pants, toleration, truth
