Who are you, and who am I? Be these truths or filthy lies?

And I won’t stop, cos I know the power of the question
– Rage Against The Machine

Methinks the Commie crusaders were onto something with this one…

See, I’m basically a bloke who can never quite rest content with the vague, the glib, the hinted at. Mysteries, evasions and ambiguities, more often than, not bug me. You know when you’ve got an insect buzzing over your head seemingly ribbing you in its revolutions? That’s what it feels like for me to have summat left unanswered or hanging in the air. As thin-skinned as I am, I’d much rather have truth, than have that nagging suspicion that I’m only getting half the story, or a false story altogether…

I’m the guy who has to unlock the code and decipher the mystery; in fact, I sometimes think that I missed my true calling as a detective or private investigator. CSI, Columbo, Law & Order and that Poirot motherfucker have nothing on me! Hell, if I’d been around at the time (and place) of the Salem witch-hunts, a huge chunk of the Witch-finder body would be burning on a stake, what with their secret witch-“consorting” ways and all….

…and I’m almost certain that if I woke up tomorrow in some Commie shithole – such as China, Russia or North Korea – I’d be lying in a ditch with a bullet in my head by the end of the day…

Yes, my belief in the power of the question has gotten me in – and out of – the shit a fair few times, with everyone from authority figures to the ones I love and care for (let’s not go there!) Why do I persist? To bring to light new information that could benefit me? To find eventual peace of mind? To aid my evolution as an individual? To prevent my heart being dashed against against the rocks by future findings?

All those reasons…to name but a few…

Inquisition can be an imposition, even for me at times….

…but without the question, how can one ever hope to find the answer?


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