Tuesday, July 10, 2012


The pulse and fade of the blooming ripple

The consequence of the structured and concrete mind is that it fails to dethrone the mystical powers of the reigning thought. No mater how much of a force is applied to it, it repels and happily continues on the path of ignorance. Some say it is strength of conviction, others think it is stubbornness of ideals. The gulf between the two remains wide. It is possible it is neither.

I came across an interesting story the other day. It propounded the theory that rabbits were causing a disease in humans. The disease was laced with all sorts of physical ailments. Looking deeper into the illness it appeared that the rabbits had nothing to do with the malady. It was the mere proximity of the rabbits to the humans. There was no established Koch’s postulate of cause and effect. So after rethinking the headlines, I came to the conclusion that the author had merely looked at the most superficial of matters and finding the premise of his prejudiced thought, he had launched into the headliner.

As the hours ticked by after the story broke, more and more people with little thought started tripping over each other to get a ticket on the sycophant train and inserted their opinion. All opinions added to the magic and mystique of this new found correlate. A few opined against the concept but they were quickly drowned out or laughed at or snuffed into submission. The chorus of accord grew and enveloped the whole state and then the neighboring states and then ultimately the whole world. Even the far reaches of civilized society found the rabbits as an abhorrent creature not worthy to feed the starving.

Headlines upon headlines sold countless newspapers. The rabbit population was hunted down and placed in sanctuaries, then annihilated, away from the humans. Their population dwindled and inevitable so did the owls, hawks and bobcats in certain regions of the world. The little fluffy bunnies on the shop shelves were packed in boxes and sent to the incinerator never to be redeemed. It was mandated that “the children psyche was a very fragile thing and the society must do everything to preserve and protect it.” The dictate was handed out that all bunny-related cuddly toys must be handed over to the government trucks that would drive by through the neighborhoods. Any remaining unreturned bunny toy if found in a household, would be charged to the parent as a violation punishable by prison and removal of the children to a foster home for their protection and safety. “Away from the evil uncaring self-indulgent parent.” The headlines stated.

On a bright sunny Sunday, a baby rabbit hopped out of its little cove beneath the decorative rocks next to a swimming pool and the baby girl playing with her alphabet blocks saw it. She squealed with delight and ran after it. Their ages matched in speed but the human child was more resourceful. Soon the girl had the baby bunny in her arms. She quietly took the bunny back into her room.

The father of that child, was the original author of the bunny paper, and the girl his only child. But closets are not safeguards for secrets, so eventually all things come to light, as they will.

The author now facing a serious personal dilemma of an inconsolable child and the mandate that he himself had articulated, went back to his original premise and found the large voids of ignorance he had propounded. He spent night after night to craft a repudiation of his original work.

The publication was greeted with great clamor and soon the high and the mighty weighed in stating that they had never believed in the original study and that the author must be barred from future studies. And so it was.

The fervor died down and the dwindled population of bunny rabbits like the tulips in Holland, became the latest greatest craze of the civilization across the globe. There were television shows, showing the rabbits with photo-shopped softened images, appealing to the human heart. The emotional appeal bled into every heart that saw the story unfold before their very eyes. The newspapers began advocating the wonders of owning the animal and the virtues of ownership, which lengthened human survival due to the contact between the two species. The fever pitch peaked and the rabbit once again became the Easter bunny to the children’s delight. The chocolate eggs were once again consumed in excess.

The tides had changed. The ripples of enthusiasm had shifted. The pendulum had struck its limit and reversed course. All this because of the shapeless, formless ignorance of one man, his personal ambition, glory and then, inevitable fall from grace due to his love for his own child. The “evil” scientist was imprisoned in his own personal hell and all was well with the rest of the world that found the culprit and exercised the punishment.

Once the minority opinion had dethroned common sense, now the innocence of a child had forced it back in again.

Like the ripples, the dream faded.

So it is in this world, that one might consider all points of view in any ideological debate, the story serves up an interesting challenge. We hail the latest greatest achievement, or so we think, and blinded by the success we conform ourselves into a closed impenetrable and unyielding boxes, to any opposing idea. We stand on the soapboxes and hurl invectives at any contrary opinion. We rile the masses into agreement, some with thought and a purpose but most without. If not for the contrary opinions, humankind would have evolved into a self-deluding race capable of a quicker self-destruction. If not for individual thought most would blindly and cheerfully be led to extinction. If not for thought, life would be in unbearable chains. Maybe that is what it means to "think outside the box."

So cheer the contrary opinion. Cheer the individual thought. Cheer another’s ideas. Find the truth or flaw in it with honest vigor before vilifying the messenger. There is much truth in truth and much flaw in prejudice.

The foolish are like ripples on water, For whatsoever they do is quickly effaced; But the righteous are like carvings upon stone, For their smallest act is durable ~ Horace

No comments:

Post a Comment