An irritable schooling. Annoyance, frustration, that nagging feeling…what are they? Mere spurts and shocks of energy coursing through us, like electricity or the blood through our veins? Some statement, as though in cipher, for where we stand regarding things, what our disposition is towards them, and what our current mood happens to be? A symbol, perhaps? A symbol of what–our enslavement to the world, a symbol of how well or how poorly we are getting along with our fellow musicians, and therefore a symbol of a symbol? Or not a symbol but a cymbal, the noise and racket of the world bleating into our ears and not giving us a moment’s rest? ..! How annoying, how frustrating, how riddlesomely nagging annoyance can be, especially for the philosopher–for her foremost! We come from a heritage of thousands of years, a good twenty-five hundred at least, as far as the West is concerned, of practicing, even attaining, a certain serenity, certain as the full-glowing discs of our eyes were aiming for it…. Spells of annoyance, frustrating moments, those nagging episodes, can really eat away at such a human. Let alone an entire Age of Annoyance…why, for her that would be an exile, a Siberia! The challenge it poses to her countenance, what it took millennia to achieve! Let alone its lack of straightforward conceptualization, its recalcitrance as far as getting hold of it or getting anywhere with it is concerned. Annoyance–this Age of Annoyance teaches us, us philosophers especially–how thoroughly annoying it can be. The best of us will stop swatting at flies sooner or later..! …We shall exit this nuisance age and win a newfound serenity, perhaps a stronger serenity, one more mature and composed with the composure gained after a long trial…. But when!
Love the Dust 