Being an essayist means thinking about things, ordering what you think about, and writing it all down in the best way you can manage. And so, there comes a time when you begin to think about philosophical stuff. Unfortunately, this is some of the stuffiest stuff you can think about or write about. Why do we exist? What is the meaning of life? What should we care most about? Why should we care about anything?
The proper time for me to think and write about this stuffy stuff is now. I am nearing the end of the story. The last page could be written at any time now, heart attack, stroke, car crash, or murder on the street by a teenager with an AR-15. Then the book will close and I will write no more.
But what even IS time? Do we know? Physically it can be measured only by the movement of a mass of particles through space. The minute hand ticks over from 12:01 to 12:02. We recognize that as time. Length, width, height, and the fourth dimension is time. What, though, if we were able to see it from a possible fifth dimension that we don’t at present have the ability to see? All in one big massive construct, our whole life at once, every movement, every thought, every change, every emotion all together at the same moment in fifth-dimensional reality? If we dare to believe in a higher power, a god, then isn’t that how he perceives everything?
So, I have put together in this essay several Paffoonies with no real background to them. Moments from my life. Kernels of Mickey-corn to stand in for the beginning, middle, and end of my story. I will use Paffoonies to wax philosophical about things as I still find myself with time for waxing stuffy-stuff. Probably Multi-paffoons if I am being honest. Even bad clowns like me have to deal with philosophical questions. The un-examined life was never worth living. So, it was never the path I chose.
Catch a Falling Star 