A Place to be Skeptical and Contrary

Let's play Devil's Advocate

Let’s begin by breaking with convention.

sOme May saY  that MY Name should Have been THOMAS iNsteAd of patricK BUT i DisagrEE.  FOR iT haS onLy beeN durinG the pasT few yearS that i have beCome sOmewHat CONTRARY; i EVen ? the Under Lying Parable iN John 20:24-29.  

bUt HAS ThIs douBter goNe tOO faR FOR If i want YOU to uNder STanD thE mESsAgE iN tHiS BLOg' whY WOULD i NOT CoNfOrM  to tHe ruleS of grammar and CaPiTaLiZaTiOn?

Try this poem by E.E. Cummings:

Now Rett may tell you that living with “a contrary old curmudgeon” has its challenges, but, at least, she is presented with the other side of the story.

I posit that my contrariness is a result of how I have programmed my mind to work.  For too many years, I accepted information as fact without stopping to consider whether I believed the information. Now I have developed a mental sensor that automatically questions information, digests it, and then stores it away for further consideration. The process allows me an opportunity “to get to the truth”. 

After all, we do live in a world of “fake news”.

A result of my contrariness process is THOUGHT.

So I ask myself,  “is thinking enough, or does patriotism require action?”

I leave you with a piece by Wendell Berry:

The Contrariness of the Mad Farmer

I am done with apologies. If contrariness is my

 inheritance and destiny, so be it. If it is my mission

 to go in at exits and come out at entrances, so be it.

 I have planted by the stars in defiance of the experts,

 and tilled somewhat by incantation and by singing,

 and reaped, as I knew, by luck and Heaven's favor,

 in spite of the best advice. If I have been caught

 so often laughing at funerals, that was because

 I knew the dead were already slipping away,

 preparing a comeback, and can I help it?

 And if at weddings I have gritted and gnashed

 my teeth, it was because I knew where the bridegroom

 had sunk his manhood, and knew it would not

 be resurrected by a piece of cake. ‘Dance,’ they told me,

 and I stood still, and while they stood

 quiet in line at the gate of the Kingdom, I danced.

 ‘Pray,’ they said, and I laughed, covering myself

 in the earth's brightnesses, and then stole off gray

 into the midst of a revel, and prayed like an orphan.

 When they said, ‘I know my Redeemer liveth,’

 I told them, ‘He's dead.’ And when they told me

 ‘God is dead,’ I answered, ‘He goes fishing every day

 in the Kentucky River. I see Him often.’

 When they asked me would I like to contribute

 I said no, and when they had collected

 more than they needed, I gave them as much as I had.

 When they asked me to join them I wouldn't,

 and then went off by myself and did more

 than they would have asked. ‘Well, then,’ they said

 ‘go and organize the International Brotherhood

 of Contraries,’ and I said, ‘Did you finish killing

 everybody who was against peace?’ So be it.

 Going against men, I have heard at times a deep harmony

 thrumming in the mixture, and when they ask me what

 I say I don't know. It is not the only or the easiest

 way to come to the truth. It is one way.

- Wendell Berry

CPW