The Fargo Kantrowitz'z Literary Campsite

9 Turle: But I thought that you were supposed to think. Listle: No, you thought you were supposed to think. The thing was not to have to think. Turle: No, the thing was to think, to think, to think! Listle: I’ll never convince you. Turle: It’s not like you need to convince me of anything. It just occurred to me that when we no longer are asked to think then that is precisely when we must think, sort of like a burp over a period of thought that if we don’t burp over then we stay in the same place, someimes for generations. If we don’t think past those moments when all thought tells us that we are not supposed to think then we stay stashed away inside of some unthinking moment, a moment so blended in with the colors of our day that we have no sense of the difference between us and them and therefore no sense between what is right and wrong. (Listle takes out his tweezers and begins to tweeze dead skin off of his thumb) Listle: But that is precisely the point I’m trying to make! When we don’t think we allow ourselves to become one with our universe! When we look around us and see, say, that tree over there, then we are one with that tree. We don’t put anything between ourselves and that tree and therefore we need not contemplate the existence of that tree nor the existence of ourselves looking to the existence of that tree to validate our own existence! Turle: But we never pop our head out of anything and look around to see beyond this moment of sitting and seeing that tree over there either! If that tree happened to be a dead car, burnt beyond recognition, we would not be able to see ourselves rising up out of our state of being, calling the city and having them remove the car so that we may enjoy our sit on these nice park benches undhindered by such visual pollution. No, we would simply sit here uncomfortably, to some extent, but not really knowing why because we can no longer tell a beautiful thing from an ugly thing. We have lost our power of discernment. Listle: And you say that is where commercialism has destroyed us? Thurle: Yes! Exactly…! (To be continued). Albert’s play “Two Men Sit on a Park Bench”