Kaa

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The woman in the video at the web site linked below, provoked a stronger emotional reaction from me than I experienced yesterday, when I watched all those videos on the origins of language, combined. I stumbled across her video randomly, but got caught up in it pretty much right away, and couldn't turn away. It became personal and compelling.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qjAmzeW0fPs&feature=channel

Her name is Temple Grandin and she has a PhD in some kind of animal science. I found myself reaching to remember that throughout her lecture to reassure myself that despite appearances, she got through to somebody. She made enough sense to somebody to grant her a Doctor of Philosophy degree in something.

A PhD in anything would have assured me she was on the level in some way or the other. The advanced degree somehow kept me remembering she actually could straighten up and fly right if push came to shove, and that's why I let my me be her for a while.

Otherwise, her unusual way of dressing herself and her blatant, pushy attitude would have had me changing channels in a New York minute. Contrarily, by the end of the video her fancy cowgirl outfit made perfectly good sense.

http://www.templegrandin.com/

My use of the statement above, namely, "I let my me be her for a while." is the second time I've used it today. It's what I am is trying to say when it uses the hyphenated expression "be-co-me". I have no idea why it has segued to the third person to employ that descriptor, but sometimes that's best in order to have a second, totally biased opinion. '-)

One or more of the reasons "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" is that the old tricks the old dog learned, in the past, are still perplexing to it. The old tricks sometime appear to be merely seeds of their true utilitarian behavior. Old tricks can get so subtly drawn they're not perceivable as trickery by the new tricky-dick whippersnappers who continue to hold the opinion that time and tricks stand still.

One of my old tricks that gives the appearance of being self-regenerating to adapt to the law of change is that you're not me. No matter how many stupid ideas I get about how I'd run the world if I were a rich man... London Bridge AND Humpty Dumpty gotta fall down. My me does too.

A thousand times ten thousand, thousandth times, ad infinitum, and all that jazz. I-am-is suffers the death of ten thousand cuts and scurrilous ego abuse until there is no thing left to live for. Kaa-plunck!... and then what I am was becomes what it is, but it's only a part of the universal serpent with no id to cause woe to.

Such a world without woids is misrepresented as utopia when it really means woe-to-the-id. Woe is not utopian by nature. First, ya gotta have an id to cause woe to. Then, you gotta dream up the kind of woe that might shatter your ego in order for your id to have the fortitude to claim it as your own woid. Is that what it takes to be taken for your word?

If you're not a self-starter or have a clue that you even got a personal self (a soul?), then you obviously cannot institute a condition of woe to your newly found, so-called "id", and suffer for Christ, even if you manage to bring it own home to Jesus (or your own top shelf menagerie of gods) with a fabulous show-and-tell display of unhinged charisma. Just tell the stories, then pass the plate.

I seem convinced that if a soul needs to be dependent on an external savior or a knight in golden armor to run their ego-driven defense system while they're negotiating for less pain, then they might be shit out of luck with finding the word. Without the woid, there is no bejinning... or jinn.

There is no doubt in my mind, currently, that my I am and my me are prejudiced toward their own survival as the true goal of my intent or at least biased toward what they are programmed to execute without my nosy acts of resistance, "Damn the torpedoes, full-speed ahead... Run over this jerk and complete the mission. Kill the buddha!"

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