Henry Dobbins was strolling along the neighborhood sidewalk when the sight of Trevor Arwood suddenly appeared from around the corner.  The two were not friends, though they often pretended to be for long amounts of time.
"Well, well," Trevor began, a high air in his voice, "what have we here."
"Trevor, what a quaint surprise," Henry responded in similar fashion.
"Is it?" Trevor perched his eyebrows, "You know how I can't pass up a fine day like this, cooped up inside, playing with blocks or something like that."
"Indeed," Henry said dully. 
"So how is that sister of yours, Lucy?"
Henry's eyes fixed quickly on Trevor's grinning face. His lips parted to reply, but he hesitated.
"She's . . . good," Henry finally answered in a strained voice.
"Really," Trevor said, careless of Henry's reply, "Well you know, you should tell her she ought to come over and we can play sometime."
"Stay away from my sister," Henry said, clinching his teeth.
"Oh what are you on about?  Everyone knows she deserves so much more than she gets at your sad little home."
"Lucy is very happy," Henry stammered in frustration.
"What brand of macaroni and cheese is your family getting nowadays?  Kraft?" Trevor asked in feigned wonder, "Kroger brand?" 
"That's enough," Henry said with a fierce look.
"You know we have nothing worse than Swanson at my place.  How do you think she would like that?"
"I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH! STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER, YOU HEAR ME?  I'LL DRAW ON YOUR WALLS, YOU DASTARDLY MONSTER!  I'LL DESTROY YOUR TOYS, I'LL THROW UP ALL OVER YOUR CARPET, I'LL—I'LL—"
"Oh, poor Henry," Mrs. Dobbins began, looking down at her crying child, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why he's throwing such a fuss."
"Oh that's fine, that's fine," Mrs. Arwood assured, "Heaven knows the smallest thing will upset little Trevor, too.  You know what it might be?  They probably just need to get to know each other a little bit better.”
"That's probably it," Mrs. Dobbins agreed.
“Maybe Henry and Lucy could come over tomorrow afternoon for a play-date?”
“That sounds like a great idea, I'll bring them on over tomorrow afternoon!" Mrs. Dobbins answered enthusiastically, "Now Henry what ever is the matter?" she cried in a silly tone as her toddler's wailing increased.
And with that the women pushed their strollers in opposite directions.

It is difficult to make people think exactly what you are thinking.  Say one more word or one less word than is needed, and their thought will not quite line up with yours.  Thus, the ever elusive goal is to say exactly enough words to cause your thoughts in others.

Education is often spoiled by the belief that learning is not a conversation.  Teachers seem to assume the role of reporters who must explain to students what others have concluded about the world.  But why did they conclude thus?  For what reason did someone arrive at this piece of knowledge?  This is completely left out of the experience of education, and it is because people assume that learning is not a conversation. 

Does this make us less than human?  For it leaves many people assuming they are not participants in the the conversation of humanity.  Indeed, humanity has a very low participation rate, even among humans.   

Wake up in the morning—time to hit the books?  No, for we must never forget, 'with fear and trembling!'  Seek salvation before looking for God in the intellect.

It is too bad we cannot say, 'Life is very long, but goes quickly' or, 'Life moves alongs slowly, but is rather short'—but no, instead we must say, 'Life is short, and fading quickly!' 

Farewell friends! Live a good day!

"So," began the first sleuth, "what we need to figure out is what the murderer would do after the murder was done."
"That seems a bit hard," the second sleuth replied, "What we could do instead is figure out what he would not do, because then everyone who does those things we know is not the murderer."
"Brilliant!  So let's see . . . well, assuming that his only goal was not just to murder, we can probably safely assume that he would not do nothing."
"Excellent point," the second sleuth affirmed, "So now we need to find the people who do nothing."
"Well, what would a person who does nothing do?"
"Hmmmm, hmmmm, you raise a very interesting question," the second sleuth thought aloud, "They definitely wouldn't do something."
"True, very true." 
"Would they do anything?"
"I don't think so."
"Hmmmm. This could be more difficult than we expected."
A long silence followed. 

Warning, I am a little hyperactive.

When I am a parent, in order to be a good parent, I am going to write a whole song called 'But I Don't Want to do My Chores' so that when I am telling my child what to do instead of argue they can burst into song.  Then my wife and I will each have parts and there will be a whole dance number, and when it finishes all the tension will be gone and our child will love us and then go do his chores.

I think militaries should have mascots so that we have somebody to cheer for when we go to war.  I used to think our mascot was a 'troop' because people would yell, 'Go U.S. troops!' but then I realized that all the other countries had the same mascot.  So now we need suggestions.  I suggest that the goose be our mascot because geese are fearless—walking right in front of traffic, not caring what the danger is that's facing them.  They are truly intrepid warriors.  And not to mention then there would be a rationale for the crappy bread rations.

People think it is just humans that go all crazy over religion, but the world of money is also crazy, certain bills always being converted into other bills, some bills being converted into coins, and it is a big mess and all the different religions of money want everyone to convert to their team, and it is very confusing.

I never say 'I feel like I am talking to a wall here' because some walls can actually be quite friendly.  Like the wall in the dentist's office has the poster of a walrus saying 'Ahoy there, matey!' and he is very friendly.  Sometimes I hang responses all over a wall so I can talk to it, and when I say something I look for the response that makes sense.  Even if it doesn't make sense, that's okay too, some walls aren't quite rational.  But sometimes their humor will be very straightforward, very sensical.  That usually means you are talking to drywall. 

I can't wait until I get all romantical with someone and we are staring up at the night sky and she whispers, 'Look at the moon, it is so pretty tonight,' and I will hold her close to me and say very seriously, 'That's no moon. It's a space station.'

People say that it is bad to be a procrastinator so I woke up and made dinner at 6 A.M. and then I waited all day until evening and then I ate it and I think I am going to go back to being a procrastinator because things taste better when you procrastinate. 

It is a good thing our vital organs stay in our bodies all the time, because then there is one less suitcase you have to pack when going on vacation. 

Okay so I am just a little bit sad right now, and I just don't know what is going on, so maybe I will go outside and sit down and look at the sky and remember how big reality is and think about everything all at once so that I remember how small I am, because we tend to get very upset when we forget how small we are, I don't know why, don't ask me, ok I'm going now, goodbye, I hope you smiled while reading something here, I like being a smile-causer, because you know it is easy to be smart because you can study how to be smart, but you cannot study how to cause smiles, it is much more difficult I think, and that's why being smart is overrated, of course if you have seen Harvey then you know this, so go ahead try and find the password to make people smile it is a good way to pass the time while being around other humans and also because all of reality is about relationships.

A philosopher I know said he thinks that most of the people in my generation are ironists.  An ironist is a person who says he believes something, but really doesn't.

An ironist is willing to abandon any fashion or creed, any person or place, and move on without remorse.  Their life is nowhere, for they have tied it to nothing; whatever they say may mean the exact opposite, depending on how things turn out.  For if things turn out poorly, they didn't mean what they said.  Its infinite flexibility makes the life of an ironist impossible to attack; there is no point of weakness, for nothing actually means anything to them.

The appeal is clear: you stake nothing, you lose nothing.  The ironist will never be sad; but the question is, will he ever be happy?

Some people, I find, have very odd ways of selecting their friends.  But mainly the odd thing is that they select their friends at all. 

I consider every single person I meet my friend until they try to attack me.  And even then, sometimes people who attack you are only being playful.  I have to explain to them that I don't consider attacking to be a part of friendship, but then we can carry on arm-in-arm along the path of life.

Really we should love people and be willing to be friends with them simply because they exist.  Friendship is not a ride people must be 48 inches tall to ride, or something for which they must fill out a form, or smell nice, or be able to make you laugh once a minute.  Friendship is just what happens because we are humans, and we can talk, and people are there.

A friend of mine has told me she is friends with me because I entertain her.  How terrifying!  I had no idea that there was a standard on which our friendship was based.  What will happen if one day I can't entertain her anymore? 

I think many people have such a criteria-based view of friendship; it is the view represented by the larger man in the dialogue a few posts ago.

The same friend was offended to find that I love her simply because she's a person, and not because of all the admirable qualities she possesses; she thought that being friends with her intrinsically implied that I thought she was beautiful, smart, entertaining, and so on.  Now I actually thinks she is all of those things, but that is not the reason I love her. 

In fact, if I loved her because of those things wouldn't I really just be loving those qualities, and not her? 

As it is, she could fail to be all those things, and it would not affect the fact that I love her.  Underneath all those things, she is a person who thinks, feels, and sees the world, and that is enough.

And so I think it is good practice to even become good friends with people who you don't even want to be friends with.  Otherwise we become 'the larger man,' trying to attain the goal of having an amazing life, and things become all about us.  I think we will probably be amazed at how much we were missing in people if we try to love everyone.

This seems to me how Jesus picked his disciples; the accounts almost make it look as though it was at random.  He just walked up and started talking to them, and then the relationship began.  And then Jesus would go to the parties where all the sinners were, and, presumably, just eat and talk with people.  This is a way Jesus would place value in people, and show that it didn't really matter who you were, he would love to have dinner with you. 

And it should all work out since, based on the last time I checked, the population of the world just works out so that there is enough people for everybody to have lots and lots of friends.

What if the world was filled with brilliant color and light?  What if God gave us bodies to explore and map an entire world which started in mystery?

True holiness is found in humility.  Some agents of good have never been seen nor praised.

You are the person who knows all your thoughts, but there are people who have not heard of you or your thoughts at all. 

And would it be good if they did?  Billions of agents carry on about their lives, totally ignorant that you exist; but perhaps today one of them will meet you.  Will it be a good day for that person?

Our imaginations are what make us morally culpable.  We are all able to imagine acts of kindness, of service, of grace, which we then fail to perform. 

Can we imagine holy lives? 

But our wills are frail and weak, and so holy we do not become. 

What if you were placed in a world of eternally important creatures, and were supposed to love any and all of them that you could?  What if you were allowed into a place where you could decide how to talk and act; what would you do?

Humility is not assuming you are unimportant; quite the opposite.  A creature of no importance would not be called to be humble.  It would not matter what a creature of no importance did. 

We wake up morning by morning, but our will to love stays asleep.  We must stay away from people until we can wake it up.

Do we plan our lives so that we will be most able to love other people?

What if your body wasn't yours, but was just a loan to let you be in reality for a short time?  What if it was an amazing thing to be alive?

A person may seem amazing, because they are an artist or a speaker, and we know them from reading about them.  But they are just a normal person, who wakes up and lives their day, just like everyone else.  They might even like playing cards.

I like art.  Art is anything that contributes to the idea of you as a person.  What people think of when they think of you is the total effect of your art.  Thus every word you say is art.  Every face you make is art.  Your whole life is one grand artistic performance. 

There is a difference between following someone's reasoning and a bit of reasoning occurring to you.  If you follow it, you are reading the way they thought, but if it occurs to you, you are in the situation in which that conclusion made sense.  It usually turns out that we believe what occurs to us, not what we follow.

It's good when someone acts the same way in public all the time, because then you can tell when they say something to you which is really honest, because it will be breaking this persona.

If you never reveal your intentions, people will never know when you fail. 

Your need to seem smart is not as important as my need to understand your argument.  Just say what you mean.

It is hard to tell whether what someone is saying is everything they are thinking.

If people don't like it when their friends talk bad about them behind their back, just think how upset people would be if we had access to each others' thoughts!

And that is all this moment has in store for us.  Ciao out.

Acting is a good deal of fun, and if I ever have children I plan to homeschool them.  It seems fitting, then, that every year of school they should have a new teacher. 

For fourth grade I will be Mr. Fred, a very serious man with spectacles and a long face.  He speaks very slowly, and is sometimes hard to understand because of his long sentences, but he is always very patient and very kind.  Mr. Fred is getting a bit old and because of that is a little hard of hearing, so the students may to shout a bit during this year.

Then in fifth grade the children will meet Mr. Sludgworth, a mean and snarly man, who is very stout and pudgy around the cheeks.  He has a higher voice than Mr. Fred and is much more abrupt in his manner of dealing with students.  Probably bitter about something in his past.

Sixth grade will be a real treat: Mr. Delaney.  On the first day of class Mr. Delaney, bubbling and smiling with all the effulgence of the sun, will march into class and announce, "Students: today begins your grand adventure of learning.  As we meet together, you will see ideas float in the air right through this very class, and sometimes we will climb aboard and see where they take us: to foreign and strange lands, to meet new people; or maybe to the land of the very tiny, the cell, inside our very selves! Or maybe into history to see the daring adventures and mysteries which have already come to pass; or maybe—just maybe, if we're lucky—we'll get to launch into outer space and visit the stars and see if there are any aliens around!  Yes, students, it is a very exciting thing to learn!"

Mr. Delaney will be excited each and every day, and the students and he will grow quite dear to one another.  How sad that he will have to go at the end of the year.

And so on and so forth, until the children will have had quite an array of teachers throughout their education.  

If they ever have a problem they will probably need a parent, in which case hopefully the makeup and costume comes off easily. 

It might be a bit of a problem if I have to compete with Mr. Delaney for my children's affection.  He's going to be a very lovable guy; I might just have to get a sub for the second half of the year because Mr. Delaney had a little drug problem.  But after the boring Mr. Fred and grouchy Mr. Sludgworth, my children will love me so much that hopefully that won't be a problem.