Wednesday, November 19, 2014

When We All Asked Why (Essay by Bob Racine)



Do owls ever try to mimic humans?  Judging by this keen little folk tale one might think so. 

It seems there was this owl that got himself banished for life from the owl colony.  For life, no less!  He became a permanent pariah for having committed an unforgiveable sacrilege – gross profanity, an obscenity of speech.  He was heard repeating that three-letter word that owls are forbidden to utter under any circumstances, on pain of suffering the worst condemnation short of death itself.  All members of the colony consented to his excommunication.  He had to leave with nothing but the feathers on his back, the beak on his nose and his talon feet.  And what was that three-letter word?

Why-y-y-y!  Why-y-y-y!  His Who-o-o had got up and went!

Among us humans the punishment is nowhere near that drastic, except perhaps in the most fascist of societies.  The major division between the two-legged creatures of the earth is not race or ideology or skin color or hair style or any of a dozen or more differentiations we can dream up.  The major line in the sand is between the Who people and the Why people.  No one stands on a tree branch and croons it out.  We express the attribute, whichever it is, through lifestyle and through the rigors of our individual minds.  The Who people are the ones who are always clamoring for someone to imitate or to tell them how to think and walk.  Who do we look up to with open-mouthed, rapt worship?  Who do we trust to lead us into safety?  Who do we appoint as our leader?  Who do we elect to the high councils of superior wisdom?  Whose wearing apparel do we copy?  Who do we follow across the battlefield and perhaps even into the jaws of death?  Who do we idolize for their talent and for their charisma?  Who do we elect to Who’s Who?  

All would be convenient, if everyone played the Who game.  But no such luck!  Along come those perplexing, infuriating, pesky, disruptive, mind-bending Why people, always dissatisfied with simple solutions, always asking maddening questions, always probing below the surface of popular and traditional assumptions, always pounding on the door to request deeper explanations.  These boat-rocking free thinkers and iconoclasts, always challenging us and making us feel guilty for our one-dimensional codifications!        

There was a time when each and every one of us was a Why person – when we were yea-high.  “Why is the sky always blue?”  “Why do I have to go to bed now; it’s only 9:00?”  A bedtime question, seemingly devised to stall: “Why can’t a mouse eat a Greyhound bus?”  Patiently the parent replies, “Because a mouse’s stomach is too small for a Greyhound bus.  Now, goodnight!”  But the kid will not be put off so easily.  “Why does a cat have long whiskers?”  Eager for bed as well, Mom or Dad releases a tired breath and tries to wangle out of a biological, scientific question beyond the pale of their acquired learning by delivering a pun reply:  “Because it doesn’t know how to shave itself!  Now, goodnight!  Goodnight!”  But the kid, wishing to elevate the subject of lower animals to a preposterous level, comes forth in elevated voice with a real doozy:  “Why can’t a cow have kittens?”  

The parent is struck dumb by that one.  Wishing the other parent was also present to share in the befuddlement, it is this parent’s turn to do some stalling.  This question strikes right to the heart of all things earthbound and fertile and mysterious.  Drawing a deep breath, the ragged reply finally stumbles out of the mouth.  “Well – because – a cow has – little calves.  A-n-d, a cat has little kittens, and – (enough being enough) besides, it’s easier that way.  Now goodnight!  Goodnight!  Goodnight!”   

But comes the day when that young ’un makes the most embarrassing of all inquiries:  “Why-y-y don’t you answer my questions?”  And we parents are forced to make a meek confession: “Because we don’t have the answers!  We are not, after all, that voice of infinite wisdom you’ve assumed we are.  [Pregnant pause, as they cast a sympathetic glance at the kid’s face]  Sorry about that!  You’ll have to do your own digging, and lots of luck!”  
  
For much of my early life I was fed the notion that those without answers were lost – lost in sin perhaps, lost to themselves, directionless.  There was an old evangelical hymn with these words:  “Jesus, Savior, pilot me, over life’s tempestuous sea!”  A line in it reads “chart and compass come from thee.”  Perhaps it is appropriate to think that those who feel a personal connection to the cosmic Christ do derive some directional benefit from that, but so often I looked to the doctrines of my inner circle of believers and the Bible Belt to which I was attached on the assumption that they held the infallible key to stability and smooth sailing and right thinking.  They were the Christ pilot incarnate.  I was not taught to do much thinking of my own.  Most of us by now should understand that it is not the people without the answers who are lost in this world.  It is the people without the questions.   Nobody has the answers wrapped up in a neat bundle.  Nobody knows all that there is to know.  The excitement of living inside the questions and examining their contours satisfies far more than being spoon fed simple platitudes.  The Why is so much more challenging than the Who.  We should never be afraid or hesitant about asking the Why question, whatever the sacred cow that is threatened by it. 

Politicians feel compelled to play the Who game, even if only as an ace to trump all opposition, either to themselves as a candidate for office or to the drift of their party’s supposedly tried and tested principles of governance.  In this past midterm election many pollsters claimed to have detected a good many voters who cast their ballots with their emotions, not their reasoning.  It is an age of fear in which we live and, worse than fear, distrust.  Distrust of campaign promises, distrust of government in general, disappointment with those in power and distrust of those knocking at the door to be given the mantle of authority.  Many, according to these pollsters, used their vote as a gambling chip to bet on indefinable and only vaguely certifiable odds.  If you do not like the hand you have been dealt, ask for another and hope for the best, which may or may not materialize.   How sad!   

Thankful nevertheless we ought to be for our electoral system.  Even if we vote into office a passel of blind bats and it takes us time to realize our mistake, we know that none of them has to stay in power for more than four years, some no more than two.  The founding fathers must have realized that absolutes are elusive, maybe even non-existent, to have set things up that way.  They erected barriers to the founding of dynasties and empires – barriers that have at times been penetrated to be sure, but only for a season.  Cults and subcultures in a pluralistic society such as ours are inevitable; they go with the territory.  Who wants the heavy royal hand freezing all assets of individual initiative and imagination?  Bring on the social and political complexity.  The opposite is too grim even to be contemplated.

Frankly I prefer to see my country struggling to find the chart and compass.  I would rather see it racked somewhat by the tentative than overrun by some white knight figure offering a cut and dried policy and program aimed at putting all things in perfect sacrosanct order.  A little doubt on the part of the electorate is healthy; it can be the great leveler or it can be a brake to spare us as a society from plunging head first into frantic decision making and a wanton wreckage of our nation’s resources.  How will the next four years play out?  There is really no way to know at this time.  But that outcome will not depend entirely upon who is in office or which party holds the trump card.  It will also depend upon how well the current disillusionment and distrust are overcome.  Neither political party has all the answers, any more than our clay-footed parents did.
                                               
[Special note:  The gag about the kid stalling the parent with why questions is one I borrowed – in part, but only in part – from Harry Belafonte.  He featured it on a recording of his I heard many years ago.  He provided the situation; I have embellished it with my own details.  Thank you, Harry!]


To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com.  To learn about me consult on the website the blog entry for August 9, 2013.

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