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Pressed by the onus of various realities we deal with in our multidimensional state, we have no choice but to accept those changes to our "root assumptions" on blind faith in the absence of subjective evidence. A lack of evidence or concrete substance, however, is no deterrent to the reckless abandon in our full-steam-ahead reformation projects on a thing we cannot hear, see, taste, touch or smell. In order to explore further, we must take a page from the scientists' diary and discard the need for proof which action paves the way for even more ambiguous research on how those root assumptions evolve and devolve in our present existence.
Enter Todd, the Terrible. Not particularly bright as toddlers go in the middle of their two's, Todd nevertheless forages about filling the huge void in his mental faculty by discovering and changing root assumptions that seem to have come ready-made and built-in at birth. You might say Todd never met a chocolate chip cookie he didn't like. Actually, he had not had the pleasure at all until the Kitchen Kaper.
It all started when Todd saw something strange on the square thing with four sticks to the floor in the kitchen. Chinning himself, he could see that it was round with a bunch of specks in it. His first impulse was to reach out and grab it, but that presented a problem: how to snatch the goody and still maintain the hold on the table. Then, he remembered the bedlam in the bedroom. With the same slick maneuvering he had used with the staircase drawers to the top of the chest, he pulled himself onto the chair that sat a bit too far from the table. Stretching his soggy- bottomed body to the limit, he could just barely reach the round object, and he made short work of getting it to his mouth. Apart from the stale, hard texture, it was indescribably delicious.
Enter Big Sis. Having watched Mom whip up chocolate chip cookies numerous times, she finally persuades the Chief Cook and Bottle Washer to let her try it on her own. So, she measures and mixes and pours and bakes. By the time the cookies ae spread out on the table to cool, Todd, the Terrible is in the vicinity in response to a strange smell. Oh, Boy! A bunch of round things with specks. The chair thing no longer a problem, Todd grabs both hands full and retreats under the table. He notices that these round things are warm and soft, but they taste awful!. It seems Big Sis got a bit silly in her ingredients and left out one of them . . . the sugar! Even her lucky rabbit's foot --not too lucky for the rabbit-- could not save her.
Enter the Magic Chef. After convincing Big Sis that her batch would be most appreciated by the homeless at St. Vincent's Soup Kitchen --code for garbage disposal when Sis wasn't looking-- Mom does her thing with the mixer. By the time the sweet aroma tickles Todd's nostrils, the plump and perfect pastries were sunning themselves on the square thing.
"There's my little man," Mom said as she extended her arm at the end of which a cookie was struggling to get free. "Here's a cookie for Todd."
Most likely later in life, Todd, the Terrible, will include "chocolate chip" in his set of symbols, but at this point, his root assumption is pretty much set. The chocolate chip changes go something like this: some round things smell funny, feel soft and warm, and taste awful, especially if Big Sis has anything to do with them; some are cold and hard but taste good; but when Mom is around, the round things smell good, are warm and soft, and taste delicious. They are called "cookies."
Not much changes in the adult world. We seem to take those "birth" assumptions and mold them into mirror images of whatever we happen to be in the middle of, be it wacky, wary or not even of this world. The destruction and creation is endless. And when somebody asks, "what do you think about that,?" we pretty much resort to those "chocolate chip changes" to make our opinions worthy of media coverage. If only those opinions could taste so good!
Copyright © May, 2000 dtgosnell
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