The eye sees but not its' own reflection

     

From out of the heart the mouth speaks. Especially true in gossip and its' hearsay twin, politics. Strong minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Weak minds discuss people, usually credited to Socrates. 

Hearsay defines gossip.

 Over the Bar

at the Naked Eye

How to tone down reactionary barroom brawls. Individuals are mountains of various impressions and comments which result in millions of reactions, all mostly divisionary. Events are more profitable, without the actors in the mix. Issues and ideas are where ultimate lasting answers are found. 

Leaders and judges

 There was quite a crowd around the corner table recently. They were talking about politics in the Bible, about leaders leading and judges judging.

Unfortunately for us all, the original possibility of the discussion throughout, corruption, came from the specific Ecclesiastes 3:16 translation. 

 Corner Table is a round table

with only two legs.

Facing facts hard for some

According to Thomas Sowell, facts framed his decision making. This was his central word and he hit upon it when asked why he changed his mind from Marxism. Dramatically, with a so slight a pause, and a slow smile on his face, said simply facts . 

Often many only believe what they want the facts to be. I'd have to call it utopianism. I still today recall vividly a Harvard professor speaking on television in front of his class saying to the affect that if what I say does not agree with the facts then the facts are wrong!

Comment from a Corner Table

 

Seen Naked Eye Looking at the Unseen

 

The 

truth 

cannot 

be 

told 

by 

those 

who 

know. 

Late night at the Naked Eye

 Camus is called a philosopher and socialized with Sartre with WWII in the background. Camus and 

Albert Camus died in an auto accident at 46 in 1960.

Sartre were, in my view, very discouraging writers working discouraging novels. I've never read Sartre's No Exit but I wonder how, if there is No Exit, how did we ever get in here? Never the less, Camus had a hypnotic, for me, read in Happy Death and Sartre a totally off putting read. Why? This is the mystery of art, in the telling.