A dark and misty morning around here. Were it the woods, the word "bosky" might somehow linger nearby.
A strange proclivity, the desire to be somehow "right." A socially-adhesive longing on the one hand. Something in keeping with the 'brotherhood of man' or some such.
A (wo)man can believe anything s/he likes, but it behooves all to remember that it is people who were right who were most-largely responsible for the bloodbaths referred to as "war." Are such bloodbaths worth it in order to prove who is right? I suspect it is not beliefs that nourish the screams of anguish. Rather it is the assertion that there is something "right" in them.
Better (if harder) to believe what you like and beware of people, like me, who long to be right or assert their achievement.
Just a little noodling.
A strange proclivity, the desire to be somehow "right." A socially-adhesive longing on the one hand. Something in keeping with the 'brotherhood of man' or some such.
A (wo)man can believe anything s/he likes, but it behooves all to remember that it is people who were right who were most-largely responsible for the bloodbaths referred to as "war." Are such bloodbaths worth it in order to prove who is right? I suspect it is not beliefs that nourish the screams of anguish. Rather it is the assertion that there is something "right" in them.
Better (if harder) to believe what you like and beware of people, like me, who long to be right or assert their achievement.
Just a little noodling.
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