Centauri: Knowledge is magic

Photo: Centauri

Knowledge is magic
Translated by Mara
By reducing the store of knowledge, we actually take away one of man’s greatest pleasures. Anyone who is more proficient in anything than average can confirm that this knowledge is a great a source of joy. A carpenter is just as happy to distinguish a pine plank from an oak plank as an angler when he knows how to throw the fishing rod if he wants to catch a zander, the mushroom hunter when he confidently recognizes an Aniseed Funnel at first sight without any books, or a literary scolar, when he immediately understands the subtle allusions or intertextuality of a novel.
This is the charm of the moment. The magic of those moments that will give a long line of moments that will ultimately give the wholeness of our life journey, and perhaps also its meaning.

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    • ➡ WELL UNDER THE SUN: “He was also bothered that the itching may have been a remnant of his temporal life, and if so and—God forbid!—he was obliged to confess openly his part in the matter, what kind of disapproval he might have to face. For that very reason, he furtively but thoroughly scouted the others during vespers, Sunday mass, at evening prayers, at vigil, even kept his eyes peeled when others scratched, where and how much. When the early frosts came in late November, the leaves fell, insect life discontinued completely, at night the quacking of restless teams of ducks echoed off the ivy-clad castle walls, while by day gently snaking rosaries of cranes flew low above the tower of the basilica, he saw that the rest were also scratching. The server, Prius, Papyrus and Father Bungle just as much as the gatekeeper’s dog or Cholesterin’s cats. Even Abbot Gigas at the elevation of the Host, and more than once at that; in one hand the consecrated white Communion wafer, the body of the Lord, whereas the other, at the moment of metamorphosis, involuntarily scratched under the cover of the cassock. “If everybody scratches at once and at the same time, then there is nothing wrong with anybody. Why worry?” – CLICK ON THE PICTURE!

    • ➡ FLOATING ISLAND: “It crossed Bird’s mind that the storm had carried him further southwards, but for that to be the case he would have had to be carried out of the North West Passage, which seemed impossible, so he was more inclined to put the weather, which was more summery than anything he had experienced before, down to climate change. His scrap of island was now so minute that he could almost sense the shrinkage that was resulting from its thawing Furthermore he was obliged to chip on what little was left if he wanted to drink or cook, because there was no snow left on it. It was beside the point that he did not have all that much to eat, so he was forced back to hunkering down and starving. Along with that, his despair returned, and with it the oddly tender sensation of a death wish.”

      Photo: Centauri