Craig Lee Duckett is my slave name.
For fifty-odd years—”odd” being the definitive term in all twelve of its meanings—I’ve allowed words to slant and skew my view of reality, attributing to them power and importance not supported by the ‘real world’, as if the mere mention of gods and ghosts and goblins was enough to make them existent. No more. In the absence of language such things cannot be found. They are products of the mind, exist only by way of definition, are abstract and artificial entities invoked only from language. This is also true of states, countries, nations, and continents.
The human race is hurting each other, mutilating each other, killing each other because of words in books, because of things that are found nowhere in the ‘real world’, because of imaginary lines in the sand, ink on maps, shapes on paper, sounds manipulated by mouths.
We are a foolish and superstitious species because we impart to words more power and value and importance than our own short and fragile lives. We would rather allow ourselves to suffer or die (or kill or be killed) because of artificial language than to embrace the fundamental realities of our own vibrant flesh and blood.
What the hell are we thinking? Are we even thinking? Or are we allowing culture—religion, politics, ideology, science, economics—to do the thinking for us?
For me, it has finally come down to being quiet and listening to the natural world. I no longer have the need to seek, to ponder, to elucidate, to evince. I am closing all my books, and my mouth. I’m stepping outside and turning my face to the sun, the rain, the wind, whatever the universe has to offer beyond the artifice of man-made scribblings on thin pages in thick books.
No words can express, no words can express, no words can express, that Silence is Golden.
Pax et bonum,
June 17, 2009
Brilliant. So long Craig!