Saturday, June 02, 2007


The point at which something becomes indivisible is called the "irreducible singularity."

When does a community lose its cohesion?
I've thought often about this. In fact, I've personally named it the "Auld Lang Syne" phenomenon. That song poses a difficult question.
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and ne'er brought to mind?

The phenomenon specifically applies to old friends. But, I'm thinking today about those friends we have that we aren't necessarily that close to. Those acquaintances. Those people we need to girdle our personalities from. Reagan said you don't have to be the smartest in the room, you just need a smart room. You need to have a room full of advisors, of people whose perspectives don't make you ashamed of speaking up. If that's true, then what about those acquaintances we keep, like a squash racquet when we no longer play squash? Should we get rid of them?

What do you think?
Is the cohesion of a community so vital that we should bear these acquaintances?
Or does the stunted communication pose a problem for the community at large?

If old friends serve to tell us where we once were, what do our present friends tell us?

It takes a village to raise a child. How does the village's maturity affect the child's maturity?
Can a child raised by a village one day grow beyond the limitations of the village?

Do difficult relations grow us in a way better than our easy relations?


Youssef Sleiman said...

I agree.

Spoon said...

Pretty hefty stuff for 7:44am.