Courses Without Borders
I am the center of the universe.You got a problem with that?
It’s deniable, sure—but undeniable never the less.
Cover it up, sure: that don’t make IT go away: me—
center of the universe.
So—you might claim the same deal. True whether you claim
it or not. Don’t claim it then—you’re in-denial, I say.
No! No! No! you say?
See—what I’m saying In denial.
On the other hand: I’m dust in the wind. You got a problem
with that? You might could claim the same deal.
True whether you do or don’t: dust in the wind.
It’s a language problem.
You got a problem with that?
Ways of talking. Mere representation
is all Representing how we represent.
I got a problem with that. It's a language
problem is all. .
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I choose, as a determining POINT in my life, to acknowledge a bullet fired into the armpit of my grandfather, Samuel Scoville, Jr. by a thief in the night sometime in the late 19thc.
The thief escaped, my grandfather having pulled his own pistol from beneath the pillow, squeezing off a couple of rounds and sending the burglar scurrying into the
For reasons of family notoriety, the incident was reported in both
In those days couples were not advised to be alone. Unaccompanied.
Sam took a steam-driven locomotive train down to
For one thing: YOU, dear Reader, wouldn’t be reading THIS HERE right now, resurrecting these words to walk around in your skull-haus this very be-here-now moment. So even you are impacted forever by that bullet.
(I could drive up to Connecticut right now, retrieve the small bite of lead, drop it in your hand and remind you how co-incidental our life is—how inexplicable, how arbitrary & selective our accounts, how much we omit which is also absolutely necessary, how inadequate our because & affects.)
The bullet is a NECESSARY but INSUFFICIENT cause of who-I-am, without which any explanation would be incomplete. Sam Scoville
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