Thunderdome

I found a Tom Waits quote that I like, ironically, I suppose, while I was on my phone looking for answers.

 “Everything is explained now. We live in an age when you say casually to someone “What’s the story on that?” and they can run to the computer and tell you in five seconds. That’s fine, but sometimes I’d as soon continue wondering. We have a deficit of wonder right now.”

A deficit of wonder. That is a terrible thing in at least two different ways.

I wonder about things a lot, all sorts of things like, how come I can’t comprehend and visualise how fast a colour printer head works, or, do tube amps really sound better than solid state amps, because I don’t think I can tell the difference, and, what IS tinnitus anyway, and, I think Hummingbirds must have the best insulation in the animal kingdom because their body is the size of my fingertip (I think) and they hang out here all winter in the rain and snow and wind, and, I still want to know if anyone ever gets high on poison instead of dying like a normal person.

I once wrote a very short story about a guy who got wasted when he was poisoned instead of dying like a normal person. He had epic, terrifying hallucinations and nearly boundless enthusiasm, and that became his job; his work life was strange. I want to know if that has actually happened to anybody in real life, and what THEY did for work, because THAT fills me with wonder, and I wonder about stuff like that because something else weird that I used to wonder about turned out to be real! Synesthesia! Wow! Wonder of wonders indeed, and really.......unusual. I would not like to have that, thank you very much. I’m good with the problems that I have.

So I wonder about lots of things all the time, and I just keep doing that, I keep wondering and wondering, and once in a while, something that I was wondering about turns out to be true, or not, and possibly, if not likely, even beyond doubt. I’m happy when that occurs because it means that reserving judgment on so many other explanations was a good play, but it also makes me wonder about people who think they’re right about things all the time, and how they got to thinking that. Did they get different explanations than I did? There are a lot of explanations for everything, so did they just get all the right ones and I’m wasting my energy looking for more, looking for enough, looking for some truth, something that will shake that sense of unease that I feel when things don’t seem to add up?

Isn’t is more fun, and even better, to collect explanations and put them into an arena for testing? Like Thunderdome, “Three explanations enter. One explanation leaves!” I think it is, and I believe that one should always test a theory with as little prejudice, and as much ruthlessness, as one can manage.

Truth is everywhere, but where the fuck is it? It’s often so obscured by what you think you know, or what somebody wants you to think, that it’s difficult to reveal. But why? What’s the value in that? What’s the angle?

Whatever you believe is believable, obviously, but is it true? Do you ever wonder about that?

I’ve turned over a lot of rocks, and I’ve entered a lot of dark rooms; I’ve been spooked, and burned, and genuinely upset more times than I can count, but I would rather wander and wonder, and seem, or even be lost, than spend one heartbeat in a place where there is not enough light for shadows.