You know, the biggest thing that makes us human isn't so much our
ability to reason, but rather to ask, "Why?"
Maybe you say, "Well, my dippitty friend, asking 'Why?' ~is~
reasoning."
And maybe you're right.
But I've seen my dog -- he's a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, black and tan,
the colors of my favorite beer -- ask all the other questions.
He sees me open the door, and he figured out the ~how~ of it, just his
legs are too damned short.
He knows ~when~ I'll feed him.
He knows ~where~ to leave his mark.
He knows ~what~ a yellow fuzzy ball is.
He doesn't know ~why.~
Never asked me, "Dad, so, um, let's talk about why you cut off those
jiggly playthings I had a few months ago. I mean, they weren't hurting
anyone, were they, and they were a helluva lot of fun to lick."
Nope. He sits in the back yard shade, holding a book with those stubby
paws of his, mostly looking at the pictures because the big words
stump him (he's only 1.5 yrs old, gotta be patient).
He never says, "Why does the Golden get to run the yard while I'm in
the cage, huh? Why? Why, Daddy, why, I'm a good boy, I promise I won't
dig no more, aren't I a good boy?"
He never asks why he only gets dry dog food, or why he can't sleep on
the bed.
He just accepts it for what it is: Life is what it is, ain't what it
ain't.
Now, contrast that with my son, a human of seven years, and with the
uncanny reasoning we attribute to our own species. "Why Daddy?" is all
I hear.
"Why do I have to go to sleep now? Why can't I have dessert? Why can't
we get the ladder out and turn it into a jungle gym in the middle of
the living room? Why why why why why!"
He's already figured out the what, where, when, and how of things --
just not the why.
Egads... it drives you nuts. It drives me nuts.
Why do we ask, "Why?" Hell, the question drives us insane. It's one of
the reasons people grow bitter, trying to figure out the Whys.
"Why did I lose my wife? Why did I quit my job? Why did she get
cancer? Why did my shoulder get busted? Why's she poor? Why's he rich?
Why...?" and so forth.
Why?
Because I said so, that's why.
I'm starting to think the ~whys~ don't matter much. I mean, it's
interesting and all, and it makes you a better scientist or
sociological expert -- I ask, "Why?" for a living -- but sometimes
asking the question really doesn't do much good.
What'll you do now when you have all the answers? What did all that
mental capital you just invested earn you?
When they say, "I cut off your balls so you'd stop peeing everywhere,"
do you answer, "I still piss on everything low enough for me to point
at, so I guess that didn't work, huh."
Now you know why, but your balls're still gone, and it didn't even
matter.
- Saul
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