What is knowledge, anyways?

Right off the bat, let me say that I am atypical. Not a typical person. Yet, that doesn’t mean I’m a green monster. It means, on the other hand, that I prefer the company of silence to the imposing one of decaying divas who have a quasi-orgasmic relationship with their voice and the crap their pea-shaped brains produce, on an hourly basis. I’ve amassed a pretty decent level of knowledge, over the years, not by talking with people but by reading all the documents on which I could lay my hands or by listening to state radio (not meant in the dictatorial sense of state propagandist). Yet, my “selective” unsociability (I can easily have conversations with people on social media but not in real life) has made it almost impossible for me to share these elements with people I’ve sadly known my whole life . Am I sad? Well, yes and no. Yes, because it might be my only way to “stand out from the crowd” and no, because of this post’s title.

What is knowledge, anyways?

Who actually cares that a series of events led to a bigger event (everything is connected, after all) or that a French queen born in Austria was rumored to have said that her starved population laid its hands on pieces of cake? I have no idea. On the other hand, talking with people of my family proved to be fruitful for my pop-culture and banality quotas.  I now know that so-and-so is humping another so and so or that this person did something utterly boring like move to another office or something. That might (or might not) represent a colossal sigh of relief, in my poor brain. Did I say I’m not only an introvert and that I’m also slightly cynical?

I might have to dig these questions and come up with a report that dust will read and cherish, for eternity. That’s what I will do. Next time I’ll have to endure a family gathering (the basis of this blog post, by the way) or a social outing, I will spend most of my time doing two things : looking for a way out – either a physical one or a psychological one – and thinking about this question. I might also drink and see my tears fill the emptying glass, cup or pint.

In conclusion, I believe that this post will not create a debate or even a conversation. I am well aware of that fact. After all, I am neither a star, nor a politician. I am merely a part-time writing person and a full-time, self-proclaimed thinker. In other words, a pebble in the ocean. And I tend to stay that way.

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4 comments

  1. Elizabeth

    Your post describes exactly what I go through with my students when trying to teach them something with meaning. I had a student ask me why we always read sad stuff because we were reading Brave New World. Then, before I could finish my answer, he loudly proclaimed that the book and my class were retarded. Meanwhile the girl behind him was taking her 8th selfie in a 45 minute class, and the girl next to her was trying to figure out how to sneak her nail polish out because she’d chipped a nail. As soon as the bell rang, the only thing they could talk about was who was or was not going to prom and talking about those stupid prom proposals. When did asking someone to prom become as important as asking someone to marry you? And why the hell are the Kardashians still a thing?!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Alex Micati

      This made me realize that teachers are more often than not taken for granted, by children and parents alike. Society sees them as the image of evil and parents may be blinded by their child’s aura or something, so much so they can’t (or won’t?) see the idiocy of their loved one. It is time for a change. Bring back discipline (but not in the way it was implemented years ago) and such things, so that school becomes a place where brains are formed and not destroyed by the fumes of nail polish or blinded by the flashes of camera lights. Besides, looks fade with time, and I bet that selfie taker will forget how to access said pictures, in 50 or 60 years from now. It sickens me to read that prom proposals overlap everything else. Hey, I never went to prom and I survived to tell the tale. As for that family of schmucks, let me say that it exists because people demand it. So long, poetry, theater and literature. You have been replaced by boredom, Botox and banality. They will be missed, sadly

      Liked by 1 person

      • Elizabeth

        I might say you were jaded, but I don’t think that adjective is strong enough! I am intrigued to read your poetry, more now than ever! With such strong opinions and feelings, your poetry must be something to behold!

        Like

      • Alex Micati

        It might and it might not. I hope you enjoyed what you may have read. 🙂

        Like

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