Romans 1:20

 

"For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse:"

Was just thinking about a person I know who has deeply disappointed me and I can't figure out what drove them to it.

What started me was pondering on the stat that Literacy is about 54 percent in Australia. What defines Literacy I am not sure.  

I postulate Literacy is a proxy for a wider cognitive approach to epistemology.

First Voice : "There are a lot of smart arses out there who think they are clever with all their Science and Art and Literature and Engineering. I have never been able to understand that stuff and can't see what the attraction is. I learned a bit of Science at University but was relieved when exams were over and I barely scraped through.  I still trade on what I barely understood in 1956. 

I fill my day with a multitude of little jobs like gardening and making sure the kitchen is tidy. At the end of the day I feel a sense of satisfaction that my tasks are complete.

 If i were locked in a prison cell for a week I would have to be scraped off the walls by day 2"


Second Voice : "There are a lot of smart arses out there who ARE clever with all their Science and Art and Literature and Engineering. I have never been able to understand that stuff except for glimmers enough to grasp the wonder of what these people have done and it takes me a fair bit of study to even get that far. I thank the Lord that there are such extraordinary people on the planet for me to marvel at.

I am able to replicate extremely modest simulacra of these feats by dilligence. Have built a machine. I have performed a spoken piece. I have learned some slice of History. It isnt much but it is the best the Lord has chosen to endow me with.  I treasure the gift of communication that allows me to vicariously live through their joy.

If I were locked in a prison cell for a week I would use such visions of excellence to compile a narrative of Heros and Mysteries and Adventures in my mind." 

An incident stuck in my mind, I didn't register at the time but I was holding forth about what an incredible man Richard Feynman was. Getting quite animated, I was. At the conclusion of my enthusiastic monologue this individual sneered at me and pointedly made some comment about the state of the garden to change the subject and salvage the embarrassing situation.  Bring things back down to earth where they belong.

I also noticed that the only real value placed on others, was the extent to which they made this individual look good.

Is it possible that some of us love to read and explore and to thrive on the extrnal life in its myriad intricacies and mysteries.

Perhaps we are almost like vampires that seek to fill the intrinsic emptiness that is the human condition, with the inexhaustible life blood that comprises the Universe?