consumed by doubt?
get farted out
Hello fools. I’m the omniscient narrator of The Book of Wrong Answers. You’ll recognize me from my plain, unassuming font.
I’m Mr. Book - AKA The Book of Wrong Answers. I look like this.
I’m Jimmy the writer and would be author. I’m like the book only more desperate to be heard. That’s why I use bold.
He’s an ok kid. We’ll keep him around.
When last we were here, Mr. Book and Jimmy were trapped in a cave searching for a way to emerge into the light of day and become a real book and a real author.
Those marketing people that came here a couple of days ago? They sure took up a LOT of space. They were pretty damn intimidating.
Fuggetaboutit. They won’t be back any time soon.
They won’t? What happned?
Don’t worry yourself with such details. And Mr. Narrator?
Omniscient narrator. I am what ever the reader wants me to be. I exist solely as they imagine me. I might be Mr. Narrator. I might be something else. Please don’t limit me with the label of ‘Mr’.
Sorry ‘omniscient’ narrator, just don’t tell the author what happened.
Sadly for Mr. Book, the narrator was just as defiant, just as oppositional as he is and chose to tell the author everything he knew.
Oh sure, fine, be like that. Prick.
Mr. Book took the marketing team out for a night on the town. He love of fun and impulsivity are infectious. He can have a fairly negative impact on others. In this case, at around two in the morning, the marketing department looked to Mr. Book for answers.
should we pack it in or have another round Mr. Book?
Let’s have three more rounds! Then let’s do other stuff to keep us up ALL NIGHT LONG! Whaddya say?
yes! oh yes Mr. Book! Yes! Oh how we love to spend time with the actual artists. you know we were creative once.
Oh boy, that’s nice. Have another drink.
The marketing department used poor judgement when it came to making this live choice.
If they had checked with The Collectively Created, Culturally Sensitive, Book of Right Answers, the answer to their question would have been a resounding ‘NO’.
Know your limits. Work within them
The Book of Right Answers p. 1867
The marketing department did not know their limits. Or perhaps their impairment let them to ignore their limits. Either way
The Book of Wrong Answers took a bunch of photos when they were out doing some nutty shit.
You went out? How did you get out? I thought it was my job to get you out. This is a narrative inconsistency and impossibility. You’re violating the rules and structure of the universe that we’re creating.
What can I say, I am who I am. I’m The Book of Wrong Answers. Violating the rules is what I do best.
Please be careful. I don’t want to attract the editors attention. They haven’t been around for a couple of days and their absence is truly welcome.
Yeah. ‘No filter’ living is the way to go. Editors be damned!
The Book of Wrong Answers felt emboldened by his triumph. Drunk on power he decided to hit the book head on.
C’mon Jimmy, let’s get out of here. Let’s take action! We need to move!
I’m not certain we should. I can’t move forward with any certainty.
Then let’s move forward with doubt. The Book of Right Answers loves doubt:
Embrace doubt as the chisel that sculpts the masterpiece of your wisdom.
In times of doubt, where shadows cloud the way, We find the strength to greet the darkest night. For doubt, a chisel in life's grand display, Sculpts wisdom's form from moments filled with fright.
Each hesitation, like a whispering breeze, Invites us to explore the depths within, To navigate uncertain, winding seas, And in the process, stronger hearts begin.
In doubt's embrace, we learn to rise above, To seek the light amid the thickest gloom, For in the struggle, we discover love, And in the doubt, we find our inner bloom.
So let us welcome doubt with open eyes, For through its challenges, our spirits rise.
The Book of Right Answers p. 118
I never realized how wonderful doubt could be.
Never let yourself be consumed by doubt
The Book of Right Answers p. 119
That’s the problem with those arseholes. They speak out of both sides of their mouth. Never trust anything created by a committee.
Do we have another take on this?
Of course we do.
When doubt is about, ignore it, block it out.
Mr. Book insisted that when in doubt, Act with certainty.
What happens if I’m consumed by doubt? That happens a lot
When you’re consumed by doubt? Don’t doubt the doubt. Be consumed. When you are consumed by doubt, you have certainty about where you are.
Where am I then?
You’re in the belly of doubt waiting for it to poop you out. You wrote about certainty. When you’re in doubt, act with certainty.
I don’t think that was the idea behind my certainty post.
Dunno fool, check it out:
I view certainty as a bit of a character flaw. Well…
That’s not entirely true.
It’s not entirely false either.
Every day I show up to disrupt peoples’ sense of certainty. I show up, screw up, then support them in tolerating the visceral sensations and monkey mind thoughts that come with uncertainty.
Certainty, or the longing for it, aches with a pleading desperation.
Oh please! Tell me the answer. I’m uncomfortable waaaahhhhh - cries for reassurance can be so irritating.
Certainty. Death. Taxes.
That’s what’s certain right - death and taxes.
If so and you want to focus on what’s certain, you’d better get good at grief and loss. Get a job as an accountant at a funeral home. You’ll not only be safe, but I dare to say that your affairs will be in order and you’ll leave the world in the most predictable and boring manner possible.
I struggle regularly with certainty.
Every couple of years.
At very inopportune times.
I feel certain.
I believe with a high level of certitude that the contents of my lower digestive tract are indeed gaseous.
When in fact they are not.
I typically discover this when I encounter a timid fart. I have no patience for timid farts. More frequently than I care to mention, I’ve forced these farts out into the world.
This is a problem because there is a truth to these farts. They are not actually farts. They are impostor farts.
They say that the truth hurts?
This truth becomes abruptly, shockingly, embarrassingly painful.
It always happens when I force things.
The ‘faux-fart’ escapes as a splattering glob. It it were religious it would go to The Church of Jesus Christ and the Splattered Grey Taints.1
I start to adjust. My gait changes. My legs get held in oddball ways, struggling to maintain a sense of dignity. I’m not even the one doing the holding. Did you ever notice that? Right?
When you shit your pants, something bigger than you takes over. Your resistance to being found out becomes instinctive. Your body is no longer your own. At a pre verbal level, you become consumed not by doubt nor certainty, but a life and death struggle for the survival of any shred of dignity that you believe you’re entitled to.
I struggle to keep the fabric of my pants far away from the backs of my thigh like a kitten in bucket filled with water.
NOOOOO. THE PANTS MUST NOT TOUCH THE POO!
(it always does)
IT MUST NOT STICK TO MY PANTS AND LEAVE A STAIN!
(it always does)
No matter how much I want to keep my poo pants from getting worse, I am certain that whatever the worst case scenario is, it will happen.
This pants poo-ing is my fault. That fact I neither doubt nor dispute.
I remember the milk I had in my coffee - despite that dairy allergy I have. I should have known better. Instead, I acted with the certainty of a televangelist and forced the issue.
I drank the milk, forgot the milk then forced out a timid fart that wasn’t a fart.
The results? Predictable.
This fool found himself moving like a marionette with tangled strings.
This happens with alarming regularity.
You could say that I’m irregularly regular.
It seems that every time I act with absolute certainty anywhere in life, I need to take a shower and change all of my clothes.
When I’m a bit cautious, a bit curious and I really pay attention to what’s going on and where I am, these things happen less.
Have you ever acted with certainty with less than stellar results?
The Remarkable Foolsletter, February 27, 2021
What do you mean ‘less than stellar results’ You removed any doubt about that fart. It wasn’t a fart. You pushing the limits of your underpants helped you achieve more clarity.
Ugh. That’s one way to look at it.
It’s like I always say kid, when ‘in doubt’ force a fart. If you’re lucky, doubt will poop you out.
The moral of this story? We need to go through unpleasant things like fear, doubt, anger and sadness to move beyond them.
And when we do, it frequently stinks.
Please don’t make fun of Mormons. You’re not Trey Parker… Fine. But can we use the phrase ‘splattered grey taints’ somewhere. I really love the sound of those words together.
(sigh) They don’t pay us enough do they?
No. No they don’t.