| the quiet doubts, like rare little pricks for our less astute brethren, but like bright stars in a country sky for some, our late evening amblers, these stars hidden by the sillohuote of the trees one moment, exposed, bright on black, the next. these pricks and bright lights, our doubts, the gaps that bother the heart. this is the unusual reality of our search for understanding, a search which most assume to affirm. peculiar that the more is learned the more is unclear. the knife is sharpened- not dulled- by hours upon the stone. and one wonders alone about places and how the rivers formed, and why people on the other side of the world detonate themselves in the crowded marketplaces. and we speak, speak profusely, but not about any of those things. on monday, bodies shuffle into the medical shcool and hospital, eyes meek. i notice them as i too walk toward the place i am supposed to be. to where are ye headed, quick- steppin-man? west point stride and collar crisp, but soldier no. this white shirt belongs to her, the receptionist, and to him, the dermatologist, and perhaps him too, really many people here, buzzing little ants. eyes ahead, making an appearance of Duty, yet head half down, essentially running in a walk. silent mouth; shoes yappin. taptaptap.... i wonder quick-stepping-man, i wonder- with some jealousy -about your soul. does it ever ache like it should. does it ever cry out like mine, or grapple fiercly with that old 'adversary' . surely you-you look the righteous look - are 'saved' quick-step man. they say that i am not.. ... how do you course about so straight and efficient like that? so unlike me, i muse with a little pang in my heart. ahh, but i do detect a pinch of something, something subtle upon you my man, something fascinating that makes me wonder outside the entrance to the school. yes, an aura, the ancietn aura of routine. i can smell the mastery of routine - this suppression of urgency into cool stoicism, the honesty of doubt converted to noise of motion - upon your slacks like the starch that pressed them. I mean no malace, just an observation of your odd brand - likely forced - brand of imperfection. silent. tight lipped. fearful eyes. i love to see in a person's eyes a mix of feelings - energy, exhaustion, mischief, purpose, confidence and doubt, both joy anguish. this is truth. show me a man with complex eyes, and you've shown me a good man. anxiety, visitor of students, must be the gap between that which could be done, and our inability to do it soon enough. the weird differences between places near and places far. these books, these paper, it is the good fight, tho we labor not for now, but for the distant future. very slowly rises the swell of an entire generation. but i wonder if it will be the same as generations, tens and twenties of generations before, and how we will be different. i place my hope in few certain individuals. up on the second floor - in the belly of the beast, this giant 'medical sciences' building - away from the numb routine of the entrance level, are smaller rooms. labs, and more labs, and study rooms with brains in locked closets, and laptops in drawers. the labs have been silent hours, it is long since dark. in one of the rooms that is not a lab, sit 5 fools. i say fools lovingly, comrades, to my surprise - or not - 'shooting the shit' if you will, not studying their anatomy. only these clever gems you would find, with much work behind, yet much to be done, tho the exam is 4 hours after sunrise. i too with books, and needing a place to sit, wandered into their lively argument over the state of our current society. these are interesting fellows, for surely one could hear a pin drop and noses would not budge from their books over said pin, WERE this any other room in the sprawling place. those other persons - persons not in this room - those efficiently constructive persons make good; and systems and order are necessary. sometimes tho, we need more, and the my for vulnerbility was a bit quenched on this random late night. Their leader sitting on the desk, let's call him Captain Cavalier, is holding court on the differences stance on government between howard dean and benjamin franklin. ideologies and quotes, and frankly i'm surprised. these same outgoing, fun gutsy people, are quite deep when discussing not only science, but other fields. the charismatic Cavalier especially, draws upon a superhuman memory to compare philospohies from ancient and recent times. grand schemes simply to impress, being cocky as he is, but other thouroughly thought out plans, meticulous insights on making of things better for mankind, over chinese food that is Compromise between dinner and breakfast. a few days after the exam, morning entrance as usual, walk the main floor past busts of deceased deans in our classicly, but blandly dressed halls of higher learning. later, seated next to the window in the library, i peer up at the place. the students look sad. well some. others look extremely immersed in their studies and also quite content. odd. reverse transcriptase, not necessary for PCR...oligonucleotide primer, p32s, and myc gene, and t-myc, and lots of little things. the window is as tempting as large. grey dark, wintry day. look at all those buildings. what's behind that one? surely a road. and behind that little one, further back; might as well be China. because winter dull has a funny way of lifting the veils that we create to separate our imaginations. what's out there in this big world? adventure perhaps, purpose, and good and bad. passionate Cavalier tells us that its not really bush to be concerned with, but cheney and some guys whose faces have never really been seen. but the answer is not necessarilty with the anti-bush MoveOn.org people. he says that moveOn.org is Soros' project and it is misguided for focusing on george jr. while Rove and some others are really the gears of the operation. to boot, this man is a 'hamlet,' (coward) for behind the veil of philantropist this Soros' got his billions by prophesying the crash of various currencies such as the pound, but prior to that you see, pumping false speculation and fake hope into giant industries that sprung up overnight in south america and east asia, only to seemingly crumble months later, .....and this is all fascinating but beside the point. the answer or at least best option ............. offers my friend. But not for me, Cavy, you can keep your non-aristotilean physics, your non-euclidian geometry, planetary motion, no ill, my true friend, for your mind is keener than mine. school is all i can handle, tho I keep my ears to the ground for any subtle rumblings of important things, and may never be like the benign but rather uninspiring drone people who are common. thrilled to see that we are similar in heart and cause, but my answer for now is to secretly roll my rock up the slope, and to push that rock again, never getting to the peak - like sisyphus from the myth- at least for now, hoping and KNOWING, that there will be a day, when heart and mind, guts and purpose will come togther into a singular, peaceful, true motion. |
