Speculumization of Wisdomings of the Aged.

Aurelius postulated, pagan that he was, that the universe had no guiding rational principle, but perhaps, maybe a loose cadre of energized Democrats, whereas Epictetus, also the pagan, believed in a singular "just" ruling principle, ala monotheism, echoing the underground Christian church that would come into being soon thereafter.

Of my own, I face thereafter judgement like anyone, without that guiding star, and have in essence unconsciously circumvented control machinations to become "the voice of my own private deity".

However, that said...

I will, left to my own devices, eventually come under the once-and-eternally-binding judgment of Yahweh.

I had a moment.  What do I care for, and do I nurture only what nourishes me?  Do I nurture the things that I care for, but bear me no propitious interest in any particular visible way?  That means, would I be beneficent or benevolent in instances where there is no benefit to me, whatsoever?

Only I decide what I care about, you know, being as it were, unbound and unbonded, I have not some of the tethers of my betters, not the bindings and contractual NDA stuff of some of the better students.

I could, without reprisal, buy or bail on blockchain, or have the most racist pizza ever conceived by a duplicitous Western-style individualism.

And if I asked for twelve legions of armed angels, would I be just?  Indeed, I am outside of my chosen dimension, looking at people saying, as of Aurelius, "let there be an end to the reading of many books", or Seneca "too much reading makes one discursive, or Solomon, saying that wind is like "the writing of many books".

My cat, without considering the consequences, rolled in the new snow, on its back, hoping that I would rub its belly.

If I hit the cat on the ass, it would run.  That would be its own observance of nature, and my observing the thing disappearing into the distance.  And if Chase hit me, I would hit him back, no matter popular opinion.  Nevertheless, I add to the public discourse the following thought, a circumspect little geode:  "STFU Kevin."

If I farted in my bathwater, I would expect a nasty little bubble, and I would hope to avoid that, but what I wouldn't do was commit to something, as of an opposition, in which my opponent is more fiercely driven to succeed.  And yet I'm American, who have thus far half-heartedly let the media discuss them into foreign altercations of all kinds.  One of my concerns is that, in the name of pet deals on the backend, disguised openly by idealism, we would be coerced into another failing campaign.  Or perhaps a duplicitous attempt to re-invigorate a pandemic-addled economy with all of the wonderful spending that wars bring about.

*Obama made the USA look weak to the rest of the world for 8 years.  Don't pretend you can't tolerate it now.

Epictetus brings me another thought, and that is pertaining to maintaining a stasis, or static emotional condition in daily life.  He reminds to find a way to profit, through whatever lens you see, be it to acquire extra time for reading blogs, or being happy, or the getting of money.  To "profit".  In some way, form or fashion, from not just the economy, or a conversation, an interaction, but all of nature, even while Aurelius bids us to come along with nature, and accept it all: Epictetus asks us to profit, and in whatever way we hold dearest.

And its an interesting thought, to not just maintain something, but achieve growth in whatever metrics are most important to the person in question, the achiever, the Little Cheever, or the Old Mandingo.  We've seen so often in old Literature, a culture of people resting on interest-bearing accounts, be it continental profit-margin growth and consolidation, or tax-fund bequeatheries of the Parliamentary Imperialists across the way.  As of the old Henry James novels, "my lawyer has collected my month's income to pay the servants and buy pastries".

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