(Of course, don't tell him he's old--he believes he is in his prime)
He had two children, he thought he knew what to do.
(Whether he does know what to do is for you to decide)
Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon.
(Yea, the old lawyer reads alot--especially at night--it helps him fall asleep)
How many words could the old lawyer read? If the old lawyer could read words?
(Whether he does know what to do is for you to decide)
Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon.
(Yea, the old lawyer reads alot--especially at night--it helps him fall asleep)
How many words could the old lawyer read? If the old lawyer could read words?
(Well he read enough to think that he learned something important in life. Some formula to follow. It went something like this: to get good at something, you must practice. How else could you become an expert?).
The little dog laughed at the old lawyer to see such sport--and the dish ran away with the spoon.
(But before the spoon disappeared, the old lawyer noticed when he was called upon to do public speaking, he would practice his presentations much like a musician. Over and over. However, on the day of the actual performance, his speeches rarely followed the script or "notes" he had memorized. They went somewhere else. Often of their own volition. Often they were better than what he practiced. The words seemed to flow from him. It was like he was improvising as a musician.).
Hush little baby, don't say a word.
(And at this point, perhaps we don't need to say anything. It all seems a reasonable proposition. Like any craftsman you must hone the skills of your trade. But does the metaphor of "practice makes perfect" have any relevance when applied to your life? Can you practice your life to get "good" at it? And if so, what and how would you practice? What would you expect to gain from it?).
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
(And of course, if you did start to practice life, you would pay attention to all of the basics of life: sitting, eating, eating, shitting, fucking, reading, talking, sleeping, and attempt to master them. Aren't these activities, and thousands like them the basic "notes" of life? Wouldn't this be what you would practice to master life?
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall.
(Ok, Mr. Smartypants. You think you have the formula for everything. If so, show me your original face before your parents were born?
The clock struck one.
(Ok, Mr. Smug question for everything, I have an answer, but it is too obscured by coal dust for you to make any sense of it.
Did you ever see such a sight in your life?
(I recently met some high school classmates that I hadn't seen in over 30 years. As they started recounting stories about other classmates, I realized I had no idea of what was going on 30 years ago. I had no idea that one of my classmates had not graduated, and had gone off hunting elk during the graduation ceremony. Of course, that person now runs a multi-million dollar business guiding the likes of Dick Cheney and his ilk on expensive hunting trips for elk. If I went back in time 30 years ago, would I be able to make sense of it all? Or if I turned the way way back machine 40 years and I saw my grandparents alive, who did see my original face before my parents were born, what would I see? It would likely be too obscured by coal dust for me to make any sense of it. But I could probably hear the cough of his black lung disease.
The little dog laughed at the old lawyer to see such sport--and the dish ran away with the spoon.
(But before the spoon disappeared, the old lawyer noticed when he was called upon to do public speaking, he would practice his presentations much like a musician. Over and over. However, on the day of the actual performance, his speeches rarely followed the script or "notes" he had memorized. They went somewhere else. Often of their own volition. Often they were better than what he practiced. The words seemed to flow from him. It was like he was improvising as a musician.).
Hush little baby, don't say a word.
(And at this point, perhaps we don't need to say anything. It all seems a reasonable proposition. Like any craftsman you must hone the skills of your trade. But does the metaphor of "practice makes perfect" have any relevance when applied to your life? Can you practice your life to get "good" at it? And if so, what and how would you practice? What would you expect to gain from it?).
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
(And of course, if you did start to practice life, you would pay attention to all of the basics of life: sitting, eating, eating, shitting, fucking, reading, talking, sleeping, and attempt to master them. Aren't these activities, and thousands like them the basic "notes" of life? Wouldn't this be what you would practice to master life?
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall.
(Ok, Mr. Smartypants. You think you have the formula for everything. If so, show me your original face before your parents were born?
The clock struck one.
(Ok, Mr. Smug question for everything, I have an answer, but it is too obscured by coal dust for you to make any sense of it.
Did you ever see such a sight in your life?
(I recently met some high school classmates that I hadn't seen in over 30 years. As they started recounting stories about other classmates, I realized I had no idea of what was going on 30 years ago. I had no idea that one of my classmates had not graduated, and had gone off hunting elk during the graduation ceremony. Of course, that person now runs a multi-million dollar business guiding the likes of Dick Cheney and his ilk on expensive hunting trips for elk. If I went back in time 30 years ago, would I be able to make sense of it all? Or if I turned the way way back machine 40 years and I saw my grandparents alive, who did see my original face before my parents were born, what would I see? It would likely be too obscured by coal dust for me to make any sense of it. But I could probably hear the cough of his black lung disease.
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