The idea that one knows what is true or correct is an idea that, it seems to me, is like the siren-call of follies whose rocks appear to represent progress, but actually represent being consumed by hungry parasites dressed up as angelic paramours.

But the activated sense that we can together discover, lose, and re-discover the direction toward the true, and that we can, by processes as creative as they are referential and logical, steer ourselves from the seductive rocks of certainty -toward- the gentle isles of mutual correction, actual discovery, wonder and learning…

well, this is the idea that certainty defeats, in much the way our cultures defeat both our dreams and our intelligence, whilst constantly trumpeting their heroism, progressiveness, righteousness, correctness, and authority.

One of these avenues resembles and empowers intelligence.

The other resembles and empowers contagious slavery that appears as liberation.

It’s not exactly black and white. Then again, it isn’t too dissimilar, except that we usually cannot detect the ally because of the circuses of self-celebration that ceaselessly emerge from the predator.