Art and the philosophy of life

Posts tagged ‘Conversation’

Okay, so…

Question Mark, Note, Duplicate, Request

I’ve noticed that today, in the era of GOOGLE and all the answers we will ever need and more, that when you ask someone a question, they don’t think, they don’t answer, they immediately LOOK IT UP.  Then they read the answer to you, or just send it to you.  This, in my opinion, stops discussion, stops thinking, and it also stops the mystery, the search, the wondering.  It’s like all the phone numbers we all knew by heart, but can no longer remember, because we simply press a button.  I believe we are on the verge of learning how to think about things.

When I talk to my daughter and wonder about something, she says, “Look it up,” or she looks it up while we’re talking and then gives me the answer.

I miss wondering about things and trying to find the answers.  It’s like unwrapping a gift. The wonder and excitement of finding out what’s inside is destroyed, if the thing is just handed to you in it’s original packaging  Where’s the surprise?

I think we are losing connections to each other, and to our thought processes, at an alarming rate.  We’re also taking the joy out of conversations and discovery.  Things are cold and clinical.  Printed in texts that are flat and boring.

I’ve stopped asking questions, or trying to have discussions about things, with a lot of people.  It’s no longer enjoyable.  It’s more like being in a stuffy classroom, where the teacher just reads his notes to everyone and expects them to think he’s interesting.  He’s not.

Immediate gratification is something I’m all for, in certain situations.  Really, sometimes I want things to happen YESTERDAY, because tomorrow is too far away.   Conversation, on the other hand, is more like laying around, with a cup of something, talking about incredible things, without typing, while you try and figure out if there is a ninth planet behind Pluto.

I adore heated “arguments/debates” that are loud, fast, and furious, because it’s all so real and you can feel the passion in what people are saying.  There’s no passion in a screen and you can be alone to look things up…and that’s the scary part.  More and more we are by ourselves, looking things up, and shutting the door on real people and connecting with each other through words and ideas.

Too many people are going to classes on socialization, how to talk to girls, how to BE A HUMAN BEING.  Either something’s wrong, or we are evolving into emotionless things, who are disconnected from each other and hooked up to electronics.

I know this is crazy, but if I have a question, I LOOK IN A BOOK, or think about all the ways the answer could turn out.  People have said, “No one looks things up in books any longer.”  I do.  I like the hunt.  I like having options and actually thinking about things.  That may be old fashion, but I’m okay with that, since I love books.  Of course, I look thing up, now and then, I’d be crazy not to.   But I like to think, not just have someone tell me all the answers, they believe to be true at the moment.

I used to love conversations, but they’re harder to come by nowadays.  I miss the way we used to be excited to talk about things, sometimes all night long.  I miss that a lot.  Too much instant gratification is like the rat in a lab, spending his life pushing the button for another pice of cheese.  People push the button too often, if you ask me.

 

The conversation…

She hit the ground with a loud thump.  She lay there a moment and then lifted her head.  “Rats.”

“I’m telling you AGAIN,” he yelled.  Humans cannot FLY.”

“You don’t KNOW THAT,” she said, rolling over.

“Yes.  Yes, I DO know that,” he hissed, pushing at her with the toe of his shoe.

“You said I could do anything.”

“Anything that we are actually CAPABLE OF DOING.”

“You did not clarify that part.”

“I thought you would have figured it out for yourself.  I mean, you don’t see ANYONE ELSE FLYING, do you?”

“If you believe it, you can do it.  That’s what you said.”

“Lies.  People say a lot of things that ARE NOT TRUE to each other and especially to kids.”

“You didn’t tell me that part either,” she groaned.

“Again, I thought you would have FIGURED THAT OUT FOR YOURSELF.”

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?”

“Because you’re going to kill yourself one of these days.  You CANNOT fly.  You NEVER will be able to fly, so stop JUMPING off of things, and out of windows.”

“You’re no fun,” she said, frowning at him.  And if EVERYTHING ISN’T POSSIBLE, PEOPLE NEED TO STOP LYING.”

“I agree,” he sighed.  “Is anything broken?”

“Leg,” she said.  “Maybe in two places, maybe not.  Do you have any soup?”

“Soup?” he asked, astounded.  “Why would I have soup?  WHERE would I possibly have soup on MY PERSON, and what good would soup be when you have broken bones?”

“My mother always made soup when I was sick or hurt, so I just thought…”

“You just thought soup would make you better?  Is that what you thought?  Really?”

“You are, without a doubt, the crabbiest and most negative person I HAVE EVER MET IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.”

“Am NOT!”

“ARE TOO!”

“I am?”

“YES YOU ARE! AND I’M TIRED OF YOU YELLING ALL THE TIME.”

“i’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You are?”

He nodded.  I wasn’t always the way I am now.”

“Is that another lie?”

“No.  It’s not a lie.”

“What happened to you?”

“I grew up.”

“Is it that bad?” she whispered, her eyes wide.

He nodded.  “Parts of it are.”

“Which parts?”

“The parts that let you know that you can’t fly.”

 

Girlfriends…a short conversation…

Life Spiritual Breathing Sea World Corunna

“Why do you think men don’t like women?”

“They want dogs and we’re cats.”

“Ah.”

 

 

Cat…dog…conversation

Cat, Eyes, Bernstein, Domestic Cat

“Did you jut go out and get the paper, then drop it at his feet?”

“You saw me do it, so yes.  It made him happy and he rubbed my ears and smiled at me.”

“Pathetic,” said the cat, rolling onto his back.  “He has two legs and he could have gotten the paper by himself, but nooooooooooo, you rush out the door, run down the sidewalk, get the paper then run back inside.  You have no self respect.”

“I do have self respect.  I’m a very good boy and he loves me.”

“How do you know?”

“He tells me and he pets me and he takes me to the park.”

“Wow.  You’re easy,” laughed the cat, flicking his tail.  “My sister said she talked to you yesterday.  She said you liked to obey.”

“I’m a dog.  I’m made differently than you are.  If you were a dog you’d be just like me.”

“I don’t think so,” he meowed.

“You only say that because you’re a cat.”

“Don’t get me wrong.  I like you.  I think you’re a nice dog, for a dog, but it’s embarrassing to see you do whatever he tells you to do.”

“I sleep on the bed,” said the dog.

“I sleep on his pillow and if I want more room, I just push him to the edge of the bed.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s not.  It’s showing him who’s in charge.  That’s the part you never get.”

“I don’t really want to be in charge.  I don’t know how to get to the park by myself.”

“Oh, for Cat’s sake.  You go out the door, walk four blocks, turn right, go two more blocks, then turn left and it’s right on the corner.”

“What?”

“Never mind.  If you want to go, I’ll take you.  Dogs are smart and can learn but you’re always in the car.  You need to get out and find your way around.  I know where everything is.”

“You have a cat flap.”

“That’s because I’m in charge and I don’t get lost, the way you do.”

“He said you stay around here, that you don’t go too far away.”

“That’s true, since everything I want is right here.  I could go farther but it’s not necessary.  See, the choice is mine.”

“Maybe.  It could be your programing, the stuff that makes you a cat and not a dog.  Lassie found her way home, no matter where she was and she save the boy from the well.”

“She told someone else to save him.  She didn’t pull hm out by herself, she simply got help.  I can save people.  Lots of cats have saved people.”

“You have to accept that I’m not a cat, Tommy.  Then you can stop expecting me to be different than I am.  I don’t expect you to be a dog.”

“Why would I EVER want to be a dog?  I thought you wanted to improve yourself.  The way to do that is to become a cat.”

“I’m okay with being a dog.  I get to ride in the car.”

“Fine, but next time you want to go out, let me know and I’ll protect you and make sure you get home safe.”

“Thanks Tommy.  You’re a good brother.”

“Yeah, yeah.  You are too.  I’m gonna nap now, so just lay on the couch for awhile, okay?”

“Okay.  I will, because I’m a good boy.”

“Whatever,” sighed the cat.  “Just STAY.”

 

 

The Conversation…

IMG_2588And so it goes…”What did the sparrows win?”  The chicklets like everyone to be included.

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