Concretion In Practice

"Concretion In Practice"

The only things which scare me are the things I don't understand . . . and also the things I do understand but I don't want to admit. But that just makes me human, the same as all who will ever read this . . . if the previous sentence is taken at total face value and the concept of "life has taught me that my fears have never been entirely justified or realized" actually holds relatively true.

Because sanity is concrete: it's the somewhere between the shifting sand and the solid rock that humanity has manufactured by taking the Creator's land and selfishly (---but with the proper reason of the five factual senses---) amalgamating our faults into the universal scheme. Sanity is the middleground, the moderation, the space which balances us between the known and the unknown and keeps all of our instincts as sturdy as is tangiably possible. But in order to fully explain I must tout out two examples:

First, about a day or so ago I was accosted by a man near the Santa Valdez Pier and he claimed he was homeless though he reeked of beer, and he had trackmarks in his arms or he was diseased or both. I immediately knew the man had to be insane because I could clearly see his tattered sleeping bag embedded in the sand over yonder; obviously this was his home. And obviously he wasn't even trying to dupe me beacuse this poor soul was beyond the point of duping anyone except himself. He was way gone. Delirious. And thus I told him so; ---I was even gracious enough to tell him that the reason for his strife was that he'd chosen too much sand, not enough sturdiness;

And second, last night, I was hiking across Pilgrim's Pass and down thru Spiney Gorge with my miner's flashlight helmet on as is my custom, when I came upon another strange and tormented individual. This person, though, happened to be a lady. Her clothes were in shreds, she was chained to a large boulder, of which some of the rock was piercing into and thru her skin, and a vulture was pecking at her spleen . . . ---AND YET SHE WAS STILL ALIVE! She said something at once, and I may have misheard her, but I responded in this swift reflexive fashion since her words (accusation?) had been so immediate: "No, Madame, I can assure you that you do not tantalyze me in the least!" And then, like I'd stolen her fire, she said it did not matter because she'd failed Mythology Class anyway and that was because she was stupid, and probably the reason why she was in this current mess was that she was stupid, ---something about her trusting some guy and trying to get more intimate but then VIOLATION! and TORTURE! and soon she was REALLY accusing me, thrusting, projecting all the blame and pain my way and I'd had enough of it and I told her she was delusionally insane and then she cried, cried out to her higher power for help and I told her that she was too rigid, solid to a monolithic inanimate degree; I told her she'd made the mistake of choosing to be strapped too hard to the rock, that she needed to lighten up a bit, just ease in, have some have some additional sentiment that she could shift around in, sift through.

But neither of these whom I've just described heeded my advice as far as I know. And why is this? Because they are delusional extremists. Absolutely insane, I'm afraid. They do not understand proper balance, moderation; they don't understand that the concrete is mankind's only sane link between the known and the unknown.

And that is where they are wrong, and that is why they --- alas! --- lose. It is the concrete that keeps us balanced; just walking down the sidewalk, the man-made monstrocity of human falliability breathing below your feet, keeping you sturdy and sensible and sane. Concreteness is the only way to deal with fear, to keep your sanity in check and your delusions at nil, and keep on walking.