Samuel Scoville: Cake & Eat IT too (What Really Counts)

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Cake & Eat IT too (What Really Counts)

      Sustain Ability:
    Imagine Converse Action
        across a Curriculum
       I wonder if I can.

I like to team up with Liberals and
excoriate Bad Guys across the I'll
& then cross-over to Conservatives
and help them blast their own Bad
Boys Bad Boys.

Double Agency, Double-Dealing,
Duplicitous and 2 faced: cake &
eating it, too.

Why be half-assed when I can be
whole? Bad Guys galore. Any
one have a problem with this?

Evaluation

Cool trumps all. Hot: second place
Savvy: third. Sick’s cool in extreme
sports and Gnarly too, though not
so much in Connecticut . . .

Need a rubic to assess these &
other designations (novice,
competent & exemplary
classifications) for what
counts, what really
counts.

You count me!
You really count me!

Heart of Thinking:
Drawing Distinctions:
When to Holdem
When to Foldem

Guardian Naughts.

Rigor on the one hand.
Innovation, too. Choice
on the one hand--life,
too. Neither either/or
nor alternatives but cake
& eat it too.

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Auto Bio

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 19^thc.

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 Connecticut night...

For reasons of family notoriety, the incident was reported in both New York and Philadelphia papers. A former roommate in Philly called up Young Goodman Sam, inviting him down for a weekend gala: The Yale-Penn Football game. “You can take my sister Katherine, and chaperone me and my fiancé, he said.

In those days couples were not advised to be alone. Unaccompanied.

Sam took a steam-driven locomotive train down to Philadelphia, escorted Katherine to the leather-helmet contest, fell in love, asked her to marry him. She did & they lived more or less HAP-ily ever after, generating a tribe of offspring who like wise generated in kind so that if it hadn’t of been for that bullet, well, it’s impossible to begin to consider how unimaginably different life-as-we-know-it would have been. No one can say.

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

Samuel Scoville