Being Immortal

The following thought was sparked by two lines in Borges’ “Funes the Memorious”, in which this author asserts “that we live our lives putting off all that can be put off; (because) perhaps we all know deep down that we are immortal and that sooner or later all men will do and know all things.” The passage caught my eye because I too have been known to leave things to the last minute and because I too have always harbored the suspicion of being immortal. The latter would often plague me deep into the night - especially in my early youth - when thoughts of suicide would stalk me practically everywhere I went.

Then, just today, someone replied to one of my postings, claiming that Americans are no less intelligent than Indians. I responded saying that it’s not a matter of intelligence but, rather, of policy - specifically with regard to education (which is what we were discussing). I was careful to add that I’m not passing judgment, just noting results.

Then, later, it occurred to me that the way we commonly view education - a gathering of facts and statistics in a hoarding sort of way - may in fact achieve just the opposite; that every ‘fact’ we accept as our own, discards another (or even a whole series). Education, then, would amount to no less than blocking. In other words, we actually do know all we need to know, and then we proceed to block portions of our innate wisdom with facts.

When my son was still quite young, I taught him the elementary moves of chess. We played a few games which he always won. I bought him a book entitled “My 60 Memorable Games” by Bobby Fischer, which he read. After that, we played a couple more games, both of which he lost. We never played again.

Or, how else would you explain that so often - after a murderer has be caught, the murder weapon secured, the motive established - the jury clears him for lack of conclusive evidence? If the defending attorney is clever, he can pummel a jury with facts and suppositions designed to erase what they already know to be true. Such is the power of words and books, to block, twist and obfuscate until we find ourselves helpless to the talent of audacious seduction.

The present administration gives out ‘facts’ that now only 20% of us believe. Even with misreporting by the media, there is a feeling that something’s gone terribly awry. We are more apt to accept lies when things are going well; when facts don’t much matter. We were told that Bush was the worst ever. And we went along with it because it didn’t really matter either way if he was or not. Now it matters.

It’s reached the point at which we will ignore what Obama and the Democrats are saying, and vote according to the alarm bell in our gut.