Inertia is a Property of Matter

Inertia is also my defining characteristic. So much so that I think my parents should have named me after Saint Herschel the Patron Saint of Inertia. I'd like to point out here that life in general and writing in particular is so much easier when there is no academic rigor involved. For example, a legitimate writer would have taken the trouble search the internet to see if there were any saints related, even tangentially, to inertia or physics or just science. Although a Patron Saint of Science seems kind of paradoxical, I am almost certain there is Patron Saint of Paradoxes and if there isn't, there should be, Goddammit! (Back to my point,) but not me. I just squirt out a name and say he's the Patron Saint of something without worrying that I will hear from a Vatican curia correcting me and asking for a retraction in the next Catholic Digest and Cardinal Times-Picayune. It's a wonderful thing; writing a blog.

Holy Cow, I need to finish this thought, my parents should have named, blah, blah blah... but I suppose they had more important things on their minds and maybe my tendencies toward procrastination and sloth were not as evident in my first days. I am told by the survivors of my birth, that I appeared to them an average, normal, happy infant. But then again, this is the view that most people have of infants no matter what they actually witness. I think this is a result of millennia of development which seeks to wipe out any tendency to denigrate and "speak truth to parents" re the actual appearance and truthful evaluation of a newborn. It is genetically frowned upon to recoil, gasp, or cross ones-self at the first glimpse of an infant. It is deeply ingrained in us to smile, nod approvingly, and speak in rapturous and dulcet tones of the heavenly qualities of the infant thus presented.

It's also true that nature has generously warped our ability to see the weakness, deformity, and defect when it comes to babies. In practical terms, we do not hold infants to the same standards of the mean, in terms of looks, that we do the more finished products of teenagery and beyond. Without speaking of the details, we tacitly assume that nature will work her miracles, over the ensuing years to correct the faults of the baby's appearance and so produce another adult of average or better looks.

The truth of the matter is that we recognize the perfection of the infant within, during our first meeting and perhaps that is what we appreciate most about babies. With a few notable exceptions, babies begin with perfect inner beings and we gradually warp them inside until, finally, as adults, they do more accurately fit into what we sadly consider "normal" adulthood.

This constant pressure that warps and twists to force the fit,
is known as parenting and education and through these processes we create children who police and bully each other to complete the job.

Once again, I start out to write a slightly insightful and moderately humorous piece and end up making a speech from the scaffold. Please forgive me.

More later,