My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Inconvenient Facts
We found a fact, a small and maybe less significant one, and as we found it we hid it again, making believe it was never there, hoping our discovery would not be uncovered. Had it stayed around, it might have endangered the elaborate system we had built, the one that permits no inconsistencies, even though they may be true.
Labels:
discovery,
distractions,
risk
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