Truth (with a capital "T") is the elephant, and humanity the blind touching, sniffing, tasting, listening to this big "T" and of course we all rhapsodize a different tale (or tail?), yet in the end the big "T" is still the big "T" and all our various tales describe a tiny bit of that reality, the elephant.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Real
What is real? Real needs not humans, but humans need a realization of the real, as well as anticipation of the coming real, filtered through a vast storehouse of the past real -- memories -- memories of what proved to be real as well as memories of what proved not to be real. The human mind rarely is in the here and now, but always in the anticipated to be, or the always and ever growing was. The thing itself is an imaginary construct of the mind, just as a photograph is a "slice of time" dwelling in a reality that cannot and will not "stop" to become a separate reality. We dwell in the flow of time, and what was, will never again, be what will be, yet our minds need to make sense of this ongoing rush of reality, and does so, by imagining, slices of time, to be, things, unto, themselves.
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