Footnotes in Search of a Post

What can I say?

The divine light shimmers upon the sea of being.

And not a moment too soon, for 

The momentary beauty of the instant is the only thing in the universe that concurs with the eagerness of our souls.

D'oh! There's always a BUT: 

 The luminous intensity of certain truths makes them invisible.

Then again, not to everyone, AKA the living: 

Life is delightful in the moments in which one is left to think or dream. 

But there is Life (the abundant kind) and life, for which reason we can say that mere 

“Life” is the consolation of those who do not know how to think.

Gentlemen, you can't think in here, this is academia!

In every moment the majority lives from dead ideas.

Dead and rotting. Conversely,

By limiting our audience we limit our falterings. Solitude is the only incorruptible arbitrator.

What an excellent way of spinning the selectiveness of my audience!

The rest are just too busy and distracted with merely living their mere lives. Frankly, I don't know how they do it, but

Man needs a busy life. No one is more unfortunate than the idler who was not born predestined to be one. An idle life without boredom, stupidities, or cruelty is as admirable as it is rare.

Fortunate indeed is the idler born to abide, who is bored by the busyness of living and can tolerate the isness of being. 

The pleasure with which we walk down the trail that a system opens up for us into the woods makes us forget that on each side the forest remains intact.

Not for me, at least not anymore. Certainly it used to, but now I am always aware of the Mystery of (and in) the four quadrants (↑, ↓, ←, & →) for which reason

Any explanation soon seems naïve.

And 

Any explanation seems inadequate when we hear it repeatedly.

Aaaand

Any idea is always too simple.

Naïve, inadequate, and simplistic, thy name is tenure, and thy dickname is journalism!

Dunning-Kruger + confirmation bias is everywhere:

There are few intelligences that we do not hear fluttering blindly in their cage of unconscious convictions.

What good are wings if one is grounded and caged? But supposing you are, that door locks from the inside:

When a system provides automatic answers to all questions, let us change the system.

You're free, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it except default to auto-subjugation. Today's masters are every bit as oppressive as yesterday's, only they've been internalized: every man his own victim and master. But who does the master serve?

This will be controversial, but

Religions would be simple figments of the imagination if their ontological roots were not all in Christianity.

In what sense? Perhaps this?

Christianity is the paradigm of the gratuitous insertion of axiological flashes into time.

Of the perpetual incarnation of the vertical into the horizontal, whether by book, by aphorism, by experience, or ultimately by Person. 

Perhaps everything is a footnote on Personhood?