Stroke or Strike
Stroke or Strike
Please, Mr. E., lets mull again
about two words that can affect us suddenly
and unexpectedly they menace us alike:
it's stroke or strike,
can either paralyze one person or us all.
Is stroke an act of God
and strike the right of some
to paralyze all others,
schoolchildren, even teachers, innocents and mothers?
Is strike permissible and wise
to paralyze and penalize
us who are not responsible at all?
-HCJ
Untitled
Please, Mr. E., let’s mull again
about the thoughts, thousands of thoughts
that cross our mind each day.
What is a thought, where does it spring from?
Is our brain the garden,
offering hundred different ways -
and who decides which one to follow?
Are thoughts the seeds or are they flowers,
are words their image or their tools?
What is the difference between wise men and fools?
-HCJ
Sure, Fate or Freewill is a really old idea. I have a hard time believing that in all of ancient Greek civilization there wasn’t at least one guy sitting in the woods, racking his brain over the choices he’s made. Can you imagine this freak…all of his neighbors and buddies are like, “Dude, don’t be a Dionysian Downer!” or “Why ask why? Try Bud Dry!” Now because of Quantum mechanics we can reconcile this age old conflict and say anything is possible. In a Scientific American article, George Musser states, “Quantum mechanics is indeterministic, in that the outcomes of measurements are chosen at random from the slate of possibilities.” The “slate of possibilities,” is our garden. This means we aren’t destined for anything, but at the same time, a person could make all the “right” choices that would lead him seemingly in the “right” direction, yet never reach his intended goal. But something is happening in our collective streams of consciousness that’s simultaneously being discovered by Quantum theory, “Quantum physics is time-symmetric, so we are as justified in saying that our choices set the cosmic initial conditions as much as the other way round” (Scientific American). In this idea, we are the masters of our fate. Imagine the guy who’s been making all those “right” choices to no avail. He’s relentless in his gardening. Forever nurturing the fruits and vegetables that will feed him. In our shifting idea of Fate and Freewill everything is happening, everything is possible. Maybe his intended goal isn’t where and how his fate will lead him; but the collection of his choices lead him somewhere nonetheless. This is the beauty of our choices, they are the collective culmination of what we’ve decided upon and they take us to our righteous destiny. The intention is a reflection of the spirit of our choices, and not an idealistic version of our goal…where we inevitably end up depends on the choices. Intent is irrelevant and critical simultaneously. It’s the paradox of Quantum physics. I have a hard time with this notion because I’m from the 20th century, but soon, this “everything theory,” will be seemingly innate and people’s thoughts will be their guides and take them wherever they wish.
This isn’t new…the power of positive thinking has been around for a while. I remember in middle school, I was at a school assembly and this group of actors came and performed a little power-of-positive-thinking-skit. I remember two things iterated from their play. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up and be 35,” and “Wake up, clap your hands and say, ‘Today is going to be a great day!’.” But these were only hopeful ideas. Based on the unreliable science of psychology. Now, because of Quantum theory, exclaiming today is going to be a great day can be a real truth—a real destiny.
As for the difference between wise men and fools…I recognize this as the rhetorical device it’s masquerading as. We both know, HCJ, there isn’t any.
As I read your poem, “Stroke or Strike,” two thoughts occurred to me. The first was a professor I had in college…Professor Jacobs. This guy could recite poetry, prose, theory…anything at an astronomically prolific rate. He had this weird quirk. He constantly pushed up on his lip. He had a mustache and with the tips of the fingers on his right hand, he’d push up on the right side of his upper lip…it always seemed to me he was fidgeting with his mustache. A couple years later I was sitting in a bar having a beer with a friend of mine with whom I knew from a class we’d both taken with Professor Jacobs. She told me that he’d suffered a stroke and the lip/mustache tic was a resulting side effect of the stroke. The other thought that came to me was the recent strike in Berlin. I have a new son and he still lives with my soon to be wife/mother…that’s “baby mama” for all you South Central homies out there…down in Slany, a small town about forty klicks north of Prague. I go down every weekend to be with them. They will be living with me here in Berlin by the time this article is published, but the point is, I rely on the trains. When the strike hit was the same weekend that my week-long October break fell. I got stuck in Berlin, and when I saw these lines…
Is stroke an act of God
I couldn’t help but attach my own personal experience to this. I’m a teacher, meine frau is a mother, and my boy is innocent. I considered this line and its exact relevance. I thought it was too unbelievable…but then it dawned on me, HCJ has had a long life and that it’s just a metaphor. Nonetheless, the thoughts blossomed—they rattled around for a while—then moved on.
Dear HCJ,
Where do thoughts spring from? Sometimes they spring, but they also slip
from us, they suffocate us and badger us, they haunt or escape us, they
pop—blast—explode—and disappear. If the brain’s the garden wherein all of this
takes place, then we are like that loveable fool Candide, meant to work in it.
Because of this then it is us who decides and this is the thing that separates
us from our predecessors. We can decide.
Sure, Fate or Freewill is a really old idea. I have a hard time believing that in all of ancient Greek civilization there wasn’t at least one guy sitting in the woods, racking his brain over the choices he’s made. Can you imagine this freak…all of his neighbors and buddies are like, “Dude, don’t be a Dionysian Downer!” or “Why ask why? Try Bud Dry!” Now because of Quantum mechanics we can reconcile this age old conflict and say anything is possible. In a Scientific American article, George Musser states, “Quantum mechanics is indeterministic, in that the outcomes of measurements are chosen at random from the slate of possibilities.” The “slate of possibilities,” is our garden. This means we aren’t destined for anything, but at the same time, a person could make all the “right” choices that would lead him seemingly in the “right” direction, yet never reach his intended goal. But something is happening in our collective streams of consciousness that’s simultaneously being discovered by Quantum theory, “Quantum physics is time-symmetric, so we are as justified in saying that our choices set the cosmic initial conditions as much as the other way round” (Scientific American). In this idea, we are the masters of our fate. Imagine the guy who’s been making all those “right” choices to no avail. He’s relentless in his gardening. Forever nurturing the fruits and vegetables that will feed him. In our shifting idea of Fate and Freewill everything is happening, everything is possible. Maybe his intended goal isn’t where and how his fate will lead him; but the collection of his choices lead him somewhere nonetheless. This is the beauty of our choices, they are the collective culmination of what we’ve decided upon and they take us to our righteous destiny. The intention is a reflection of the spirit of our choices, and not an idealistic version of our goal…where we inevitably end up depends on the choices. Intent is irrelevant and critical simultaneously. It’s the paradox of Quantum physics. I have a hard time with this notion because I’m from the 20th century, but soon, this “everything theory,” will be seemingly innate and people’s thoughts will be their guides and take them wherever they wish.
This isn’t new…the power of positive thinking has been around for a while. I remember in middle school, I was at a school assembly and this group of actors came and performed a little power-of-positive-thinking-skit. I remember two things iterated from their play. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up and be 35,” and “Wake up, clap your hands and say, ‘Today is going to be a great day!’.” But these were only hopeful ideas. Based on the unreliable science of psychology. Now, because of Quantum theory, exclaiming today is going to be a great day can be a real truth—a real destiny.
As for the difference between wise men and fools…I recognize this as the rhetorical device it’s masquerading as. We both know, HCJ, there isn’t any.
As I read your poem, “Stroke or Strike,” two thoughts occurred to me. The first was a professor I had in college…Professor Jacobs. This guy could recite poetry, prose, theory…anything at an astronomically prolific rate. He had this weird quirk. He constantly pushed up on his lip. He had a mustache and with the tips of the fingers on his right hand, he’d push up on the right side of his upper lip…it always seemed to me he was fidgeting with his mustache. A couple years later I was sitting in a bar having a beer with a friend of mine with whom I knew from a class we’d both taken with Professor Jacobs. She told me that he’d suffered a stroke and the lip/mustache tic was a resulting side effect of the stroke. The other thought that came to me was the recent strike in Berlin. I have a new son and he still lives with my soon to be wife/mother…that’s “baby mama” for all you South Central homies out there…down in Slany, a small town about forty klicks north of Prague. I go down every weekend to be with them. They will be living with me here in Berlin by the time this article is published, but the point is, I rely on the trains. When the strike hit was the same weekend that my week-long October break fell. I got stuck in Berlin, and when I saw these lines…
Is stroke an act of God
and strike the right of some
to paralyze all others, schoolchildren, even teachers, innocents and
mothers?
I couldn’t help but attach my own personal experience to this. I’m a teacher, meine frau is a mother, and my boy is innocent. I considered this line and its exact relevance. I thought it was too unbelievable…but then it dawned on me, HCJ has had a long life and that it’s just a metaphor. Nonetheless, the thoughts blossomed—they rattled around for a while—then moved on.
