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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