Confabulation is not Fabulous in the Survival of the Fittest

Drive for show. Putt for dough?

How do rumors get started.

Started by the jealous people.

And. They

Get mad seeing something they had and somebody else is holding.

Holding what?

A bouquet.

A glass.

A drink.

A baby.

A hand.

An artichoke.

An office.

The cards?

Times are apocryphal. Fascinating in parts, stupefyingly dull in others. Given wide currency. Very wide currency. A cacophony of rumors, denunciations, tall tales, sightings, clues and confessions that sweep among the streets out there. (cd)

To roost. To fester. Seek at all costs to destroy in some cases. For some persons. Of other persons.

Seems as though a common-cold-like virus of the recent past was only child’s play compared to “Plan B”. To the now. Destruct at all costs. Say anything. Do anything. At all and every cost. To everyone.Extermination or extirpation? The battle of all battles between good and evil playing out on the streets. Moral decay and/or Survival of the Fittest.

Again.

During this week in particular. A thought provoking, a holy week to some. Of how to live life to its fullest. Just another week to some. Everything seems to have an added flare of apoliticism. Apathy. A movement to seek and destroy at all at every cost. Best to have a friend or two in your corner. It is becoming very difficult to tell the difference between persons, places and things. So many mistakes, unforced errors and discontent weaved among the confabulated talk and stories of the day.

Non-deceptive ness is a thing of the past? I hope not. It is important to remember that there are good people “out there”. Strive to be one of them. Until and when the dust settles. And perhaps put the phone down, look away from the screens that are everywhere. Mind numbing and thought dumbing. Screens can be.

It’s bound to do a number. The psyches, the brain strength. Times get weary. Stay in it to win it? Win what?

There is a truth out there. Somewhere. Somehow. Fantastical. Incoherent. A self-identifical way to live? Sounds rather miserable. And a bit fuzzy. Blurry even, when looking at the screens and the news or it news of the day.

FTT is one theory of thinking. It draws upon dual-grace conceptions to to predict and explain. Explain what? Phenomenon. Particularly in memory and reasoning.(wk)

To heck with common sense? Dear God No!! No way. If ever before is common sense needed more than ever with the commentarials and 24 hour talking heads dispelling the news of the day, day and night, night and day. It is hard to turn it off. Hard to look away. Hard to self-discipline from and away from the madness.

Texting and driving is undue influence while under the influence.

We need a break from it all. And fast. Before the next round of a virus causes risk estimations of no probablilities and an abundance of biases and heuristics and sunk costs of an already sunken fallacy.

Heck. Wouldn’t we all like to forget a thing or do. That we thought. That we did. What are the stats? Therein lies the challenge of the independence between memory and reason. Did you know? The memory for background facts of problem situations is often unrelated to accuracy in reasoning tasks.(wk)

Kinda makes sense. Linguistically speaking. Especially if and when uttering our own confused words desperately turns into to a sputtering of one’s own blood. Then there is a problem. Somewhere. We learn this as children. Although abilities vary. The best ability is or can be availability. To learn. To discern.

It is complicated, what with biases and such. Priming is a thing. Pruning is another. Sometimes one must do one instead of or in place of the other. In this game of survival of the fittest. Too much stimuli and consternation is not good for the vestibular vertical way in which someone cares to exist. Cares to survive. Cares to exist.

Semantically speaking. We are there. Here. Somewhere. Negatively. Positively. Who knows. Not me. Not now. Eye trackers beware. Tracking has been around for a very long time. Fact: While we are listening to spoken language our eyes are really telling the story. The whole story. And nothing but the story. The story of what we think but are unable to say or articulate because somewhere, some time ago our brain stopped hearing because our heart was working too hard to understand the deceptive deception of the moment.

Ouch. Provokes. Spontaneous. No cues. No clues. Lobe-like or selective. Amnesia or forgotten or refusal memory. Difficult to encode. Even more difficult to re-live. Real or imagined or desperately crammed down deep to “go away”. One day it bubbles to the surface. Swirls and swirls and burns simultaneously. And like the recent buggy virus, refuses to go away. Quietly or any other way.

Ugh.

Worse of all being played out over and over and over. Gossip. Innuendo. Rumour. Exhausting. Really. There is so much circusal maneuvering that it is becoming difficult to present and portray the real from the unreal. The present from the past. The past from the present.

Solution? Suggestions? Anyone?

Value? What do and who do you value?

There is a start there somewhere. Best get to your list of what you do value and take it from there. Take it as your starting point. Ther “rest” can be so darn confusing. Subtle inaccuracies are nothing compared to complete and total intentional annialation. Fabricated. Distorted. Makes no difference. Yet. Can make all the difference in the world.

Crunchy stuff for sure. Spread the connectivity? May be. Although important to remember once again who is “holding the cards” in this game of survival of the fittest. Ideas and ideals are valuable when and only if shared with the best and honest of intentions.

The rest may result in World War III. And who wants that for anyone. Compromise is a good thing to remember while forgetting why we are here on this earth.

To love, honor, cherish, serve.

Not.

To hate, disgrace, trash, ignore.