From the Collected Dialogues of Shnark and Bark

[shnarkle]

Who's life is it anyways?

Intellectual retrogradations
in the tenderloin
on a busy sidewalk
his anonymity assured
a traveling evangelist asked
two panhandlers in passing
not waiting for a reply
"What does it mean
to hand your life
over to God?"

A stray, and yet somewhat well fed looking dog decided to become the latest member of this pack camped on the sidewalk. This wasn't where they stayed in the evenings or when they had better things to do. This was their passive income location, and while it didn't exactly provide them with much in the way of passive income, it did provide them with a certain level of entertainment.

Shnark: "The first question I would have to ask is who are you? What are you handing over? What makes you think it's yours in the first place, and if you're just handing over your life, what about "you"? Why stop with just your life? Why not hand over "you" as well? I think the problem is that most people don't know who they are to begin with, and until they do, they're not going to be able to figure much of anything out."

Bark: "Truth often speaks through paradoxes. In solitude we are least alone."

Shnark: "We? To say "we" are alone doesn't sound like solitude or a paradox. Moreover, many have noticed that after some period of time in solitude, one notices an awareness that insists one isn't alone at all. Truth needn't utter a word. To speak is to utter lies."

Bark: "My goodness, you find difficulties where there are none."

Shnark: "I see no difficulties. You're the one making this supposed discovery. Perhaps you might discover something more from that mote you imagine in the eyes of others. And that claim isn't really all that different from what I am claiming in that to know the self is to know that it isn't anything more than an idea. There's not really anything to know."

Bark: "Yes; for some this is sadly true."

Shnark: "Ah, yes let's add some sadness to these so-called difficulties."

Their latest home was a definite improvement over their last one in that they had landed a quite comfortable spot in an alley between two stacks of pallets, some of which they had retooled into bedframes, furniture, etc. This spot was just across from two fast food restaurants; not chains, but nonetheless catering to a clientele that was on the go.

Bark: "One needs to interpret the sentence correctly."

Shnark: "One might better spend their time in observation than indulging false assumptions."

Bark: "Anyway you've almost stumbled on the meaning in your bit of reflection."

Shnark: "My bit of reflection? These aren't fragmentary ideas. At least I'm not stumbling. Far be it from you to provide your interpretation, lest your revelation prove false. Prove me wrong."

They had been using the establishment's restroom's for quite some time and would occasionally dine inside. Lately that wasn't such a good idea as Shnark and Bark had both lost their change of clothes to some of the local hooligans who thought it might be fun to steal their duffel bag of clean clothes.

The two restaurants shared a locked dumpster which Shnark and Bark now had their own key to as well. Shnark noticed that the proprietor of one of the establishments kept the key on a hook just inside the screen door. The door was at the end of a long hallway which customers routinely used to get to the restroom. The only other activity was from the employees who would occasionally come out to have a smoke or dump some garbage into the dumpster.

They had a way to bathe, but they needed clothes to change into so they could launder their dirty clothes. Their quickly degrading clothing wasn't winning them any points in either of the restaurants so they had to bide their time and enter when the place was empty for their orders to go.

Bark: "Those who claim to know themselves know themselves least. In Egyptian, Greek and Roman cultures "know thyself" was the beginnings of wisdom."

Shnark: "Yep, and that ship has sailed. What we really want to know is who you are after discarding yourself; who you are when self referencing is no longer an option."

Shnark inspected the lock and saw that it was just like the locks sold at the Dollar General Store three stops down on the subway which came with two sets of keys. Picking the lock wasn't a problem, but it also wasn't something they wanted to be doing every day. So they did the switch, and when the proprietor's key didn't work, Shnark offered a squirt from his travel sized WD 40 can, and asked for the key when the proprietor couldn't get it to work. After palming the dud, he returned the new key, and they were fixed for dinner.

Bark: "These are giant words full of sound and fury, and like those put in the mouth of Macbeth they signify nothing."

Shnark: "Well I suppose for those who aren't familiar with a point simply stated, the temptation to throw some tired reference in must be irresistible. The irony here is that these aren't giant words, and it actually does signify nothing which to those who are paying attention is to state the obvious. Perhaps you might want to take it to the next level, and instead of repeating what's already been presented; advance the discussion."

Sparky lifted his leg and gave Shnark's backpack a rinse which began to pool in some places. Shnark folded the backpack in on itself in an effort to smear it over as much of the backpack as possible. He had spilled some chlorine bleach on the backpack a few days ago and thought the mixture could prove potent in keeping the rats off him while he slept.

His theory wasn't without merit in that the two mixed together creates a toxic chemical called cyanogen chloride. Cyanogen chloride forms when chlorine reacts with nitrogen in urine. It acts like tear gas, roughing up the eyes, nose and lungs, and is classified as an agent of chemical warfare which Shnark had determined to be the cheapest route for warding off the local rodent population. His only regret was in not thinking of this before the local Hitler youth had swiped his laundry.

Bark: "Socrates opined: 'The unexamined life is not worth living.' Our own homely farmer poet Robert Burns usefully observed that we might be released from many follies if the powers that be would allow us to see ourselves as others see us."

shnark: "From my perspective, I don't see much of anything, and yet your folly still remains along with your inverted cap with twenty seven cents and that tossed evangelical flier you've retooled to preserve your precious spent chewing gum."

Bark:"The contemplation of our own insignificance helps place us in our universe. Offering ourselves to God may well be the way to wisdom; but it might also be the path to self-deception, just as good intentions pave the road to hell."

shnark: "Your simile seems as vague and inconclusive as what charlatans read in Tarot cards. Where does contemplation place us in our universe that we weren't already?"

Bark: "It places some where there is a wealth of wonderful information."

Shnark: "Well, that sounds promising, but by now I'm sure no one is expecting anything beyond your unexplained beliefs in this vague promise."

A prostitute had taken her post at the light just down from their position and had already flagged her first customer. Bark couldn't figure out why anyone would stop in a vehicle advertising their business. This clown had his name plastered on both sides of his plumbing truck with his phone number and business license displayed for everyone and their mother to see. He thought about taking some pictures and pursuing a plan to blackmail the john, but apathy forced his resignation.

Bark: "I suppose we must put up with what chance has given us."

Shnark: "Ah yes, some resignation to the fates. Just what we need to justify belief in our sad difficulties."

Bark: "We are our reference point, the alpha and omega of existence."

Shnark: "Well at least you're consistent in presenting a plural verb which agrees in number with its subject. Perhaps you might want to advance something more than your beliefs; perhaps something that explains how they might agree with the accepted science. Anyone with rudimentary skills at observation should be able to see the phenomenon of identity emerge in the later stages of infancy. The literature is clear that this is simply an abstract construction, and yet it is no more real than your ideas of God. They're just ideas. Of course the point here is that one needn't expire to recognize this fact. The question remains, and is as yet unanswered by those who would rather pontificate ad nauseum."

Their latest meal had left Shnark with one of the worst cases of sphincter rot imaginable. He was sure it was the chili chicken salad they'd dined on the evening before; at least that's what he had hoped and determined as the most likely cause.

Bark: "Of course we can pretend that we have established a magical link with the hereafter, with Divinity."

Shnark: "Let's not. How about making an honest attempt to advance something more than one's imagined fanciful arguments of straw."

Bark: "We invent our own explanations and our own gods."

Shnark: "Not everyone. Some aren't inventive or inspired at all, and must rely on the inspiration of others. Unfortunately it has the opposite effect when it isn't necessary or relevant."

Bark: "It is most relevant:
'Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt
In solitude, where we are least alone;
A truth, which through our being then doth melt,
And purifies from self: it is a tone,
The soul and source of music, which makes known
Eternal harmony, and sheds a charm
Like to the fabled Cytherea’s zone,
Binding all things with beauty;—’t would disarm
The spectre Death, had he substantial power to harm' ".


to be continued....

 

[shnarkle]

shnark: "Perhaps you might want to advance something more than your beliefs; perhaps something that explains how they might agree with the accepted science."

Bark: "We are discussing handing over one's life to God. Of interest is the possible figurative meaning in this statement. Of little interest is 'accepted science'."

Shnark: "Pray tell, which figure are you referring to? For there to be figurative meaning, there must needs be an actual figure of speech to give it that figurative meaning. There are quite a few, pick a figure, any figure; preferably the one which gives figurative meaning to this statement."

At this point he was beginning to suspect that it was some sort of bean plate from one restaurant tossed onto the chicken salad of the other restaurant. He was hopeful that it was chili or beans, and not something cleaned up from the floor or worse. They had both performed the routine sniff tests to reassure themselves that all was well, but both had also lingered a moment as if saying grace before digging in. For them it was a different type of prayer, one in which they were grateful and yet simultaneously praying that it wouldn't make them ill.

Shnark: "While you may prefer the unaccepted sciences which superstitiously posit a flat earth, unlike you; I am perfectly willing to listen with an open mind to your position. It is no secret that yesterday's superstitions are tomorrow's science. When one is talking about the self it's of plenty interest to a number of sciences; psychology and psychiatry, just to name two. Forgive me for not noticing that restrictions had been placed on the discussion which exempt using one's observations.

Bark: "I advanced a piece of Byron to indicate that we can tease meaning out of an apparent contradiction."

Shnark: "Right, were these feelings not teased from you as well, or are they just presented for their as yet unidentified figurative meaning? You've claimed it to be figurative meaning from a literal contradiction; or are you claiming it to be a figurative contradiction?"

Shnark didn't have the arctic bedroll that Bark had so he had found it necessary to use Sparky as his personal sleeping bag heating element. Sparky seemed pleased with this arrangement, but Shnark was also learning that when you sleep with dogs you wake up with more than just fleas. He had pulled a few ticks off, and it just occurred to him that Sparky was now also generously sharing his abundant supply of intestinal parasites as well. Perhaps they would make up what his acid reflux indicated he lacked in bile.

Bark: "Social experiments do not conclusively show anything."

Shnark: "So are you saying that they conclusively show nothing? I think most would agree that experiments aren't meant to conclusively show anything. They're meant to conclusively show something, and many times something specific. The best way to see what many of our modern day studies are meant to conclusively show is to look at who is funding these experimental studies.

The sugar industry has conclusively shown that there is no direct link between sugar consumption and diabetes, heart disease, obesity or cancer. Big tobacco companies conclusively showed us that there were possible correlations between tobacco use, but that these correlations didn't necessarily cause nicotine addiction etc. They weren't conclusively showing anything. They were conclusively showing something quite specific. These were their conclusions."

Bark: "They form the basis for theories and may back up one's theorizing."

Shnark: "Sounds like you've concluded that experiments support theories which don't conclusively show anything. Are you attempting to tease meaning out of these statements?"

The police officer was new to the department and while eager to do a good job also had a bit of a chip on his shoulder. He seemed the type who was looking to throw his weight around. He'd been by a few times before and each time his confidence had grown more annoying.

Both knew what was coming next. He had smiled the first time, told them to stay out of the way of pedestrians the second, and suggested, with "just a warning", they find another location the third. This one was going to be their order to vacate.

Bark: "Those who pontificate incessantly do so 'ad nauseam'."

Shnark: "By Jove, I think we've found some common ground."

Bark: "By the way. Ad is a Latin preposition, in whose usage I am apparently deficient".

Shnark: "Don't forget figuratively as well."

Bark: "It takes the accusative; in this case, we have a first declension noun, nausea, whose accusative singular is nauseam."

Shnark: "We're on a roll. The gods in their benevolence are shining down upon us harmonious agreement. Do you feel it, or are we no longer allowed to refer to our feelings unless they come to us spontaneously via the Muse?"

Bark's stomach had been gurgling all morning and as he rubbed his bloated belly mournfully, he suddenly realized that he had one chambered. The officer was closing fast, so he sat up straight to pinch his cheeks tight against the steel plate he was sitting on. It was thick but the hollow area below would allow for some spectacular acoustics. As the officer took his predicted detour towards the pack, Bark held his mud waiting for the officer to begin his public service announcement.

Bark: "As it happens, Sartre's novel, La Nausée, (Nausea) would address some of the points thrown up here about self-knowledge. So via irrelevance we can come back to the subject."

As the officer began his oration Bark squeezed off his first barrage which sounded not unlike what one would hear from the 50 caliber machine guns of an A 10 Warthog, strafing a trail of quickly impending death. The stench spread slowly like the ink from some cuttlefish bringing with it it's intended sense of impending existential dread.

The echo from the steel plate caught the officer off guard and he placed his hand on his holster like a modern day Barney Fife. As soon as the officer's olfactory system caught the insult, his eyes began to water and his lecture had to be abruptly aborted. He increased his distance from the panhandlers to establish a safe zone to figure out his next move.

Shnark: "Sounds promising. Perhaps you would like to share some of these points which you find particularly relevant in their irrelevance? Perhaps what is relevant is in connection to Paul noting that"Our lives are not our own" to do with as we please. Our will is now subordinate to God's.

Bark's cheeks were stinging as if caught in a vice. He rolled over onto his side to let his guns cool...​