The falcon soars to a pitch high above a plain, surveying for an attractive piece of data. Another 2.5 quintillion bytes is filling the landscape today, stuffing social media posts, digital pictures and videos, purchase transaction records, cell phone GPS signals and other information systems.
He anticipates the flow of information, staying a step ahead of reactions, considering all environmental conditions. Circling the surroundings, he isn’t expecting the feel of familiarity, but thinking instinctively – nothing is unfamiliar. The characteristics of untrustworthy, unreliable data are consistent across state borders. Continue reading
“Who is my self?” That was one of a couple of self transcending questions I needed to answer last Friday, ahead of a call today with my dialogue coach. I traveled to Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, grabbed a stone and considered it.
“Who is this person, this being?” At first, nothing happened. Perhaps, the question has no answer, or it’s capable of infinite possibilities. I jotted down words on a piece of paper: thinker, experimenter, worker, stress-free, risk-taker, divergent. The words were soon followed by phrases: “living life,” “not wasting time,” “finding a personal purpose”, “experiencing many mini purposes for a greater overall purpose.” As I wrote, I started to metaphorically lift from my self, thinking more critically of who I am — not what I or other’s expect, but who I’m being. Continue reading
Ferney, February 20, 1759
Once again, sir, this orange has been squeezed, and now we must save the peel. Perhaps, my peculiar birth was hundreds of years premature. Did I materialize too early, or just in time? For I’ve survived a generation, weak in the body, strong in the mind, paving your rue for truth. Nearly 300 years later, I trust you’re reasoning in novel ways, exposing and uprooting tyrants, sowing innovative utopias, benefitting from a sweeping brilliance.
Monsieur, do you demand skepticism of truth and reasoning? Do you cherish an inalienable right to make use of your pen as of your tongue?
“Respect my master’s absurdities!” says tradition’s slave. “Nay,” yells the enlightened. “Shut your mouth. For your master’s lies shouldn’t earn five minutes from a shelled mollusk.” Continue reading