On Nothing;

Or Where Prudence Abides, Something

By: Alex Ramos

“Oh, that grand mystery — shrouded in darkness — that hath finally been answered. What has been shown me? Nothing! I have been shown Nothing and Nothing hath answered my prayers! But Oh, this burden that hath held me down. I now know it be true there is no truth; that the meaning of life is that there is none. Nothing — that Nothing which all comes from — if thy be willing alleviate my burden; the truth that awaits me; that which weighs me down; the weight of nothing!” Said the foolish man.

Forgive me. The former part was short because I found there to be almost nothing to write about. Usually the dabbling in foolishness, akin to Nietzche’s eulogy for God or Hemingway’s prayer to The Almighty Nothing, I advise against. For it is not wise to say “that which is, is not”, just as it would be silly to say potatoes are not potatoes. It seems any Christian ought to be apt to explain that thing which gives death its golden opportunity cannot be killed. And that nothingness which has existed at times (usually in moments of silence when nothing sounds) is only so because something originally fancied it that way. A man’s claim to have found nothing means only that he found nothing; and his claim to have encountered nothing means only that he encountered nothing; and if someone had referred to the word “nothing” as meaning more real than something I would be forced to assume I had been asleep for some time or use the same logic to suppose I was born next Thursday; and during my slumber, or — if the logic is deemed sound — prior to my birth, some very bad thinkers decided to change the very definition and drill holes in the boats they sailed across the vast seas of ignorance.

If one would humor me for a moment, I have found it funny that in Hemingway’s Clean, and Well Lighted Place he uses the metaphor of a drunk, deaf man who walks in the dark. I find it difficult to see in the dark and I am sure he does as well; Oh, what an ironic metaphor it is! So much so that Mr. Hemingway could not even see it himself; the man who thinks he knows the truth (his view being there is none) couldn’t even see the placement of his feet (the base from which he stands). Hemingway and as an extension his “enlightened” character — who couldn’t hear, and moreover, wouldn’t listen to the truth even if he could — are blind. Eyes may see properly, but first they must first receive the Light; and the deaf man’s path would have been easier to remain on if he was clear minded and had something to light it.

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