The Miracle of Thought

It is with the greatest reluctance(almost as reluctant as Tony Tan to run in the presidential election) that I add another post here. Because it means pushing my previous post further down into the depths of oblivion that is known as the Talkcocksummit archives. But the urge to write, like Wikileaks, knows no masters. It has resulted in prison time, in infamy and in outright condemnation (like dawn yang, if nobody condemned her, I'm condemning her RIGHT NOW). I am consumed by the said urge, it has swallowed me whole, and the result is that I am sitting in front of the screen not doing anything productive but rather unloading my crappy thoughts onto the public domain for your dissection and analysis.

By dissecting my writings, you analyse my thoughts. Most people would agree that writing is an accurate reflection of thinking, because you have to think what you write. You cannot make a coherent sentence simply by choosing random words from the dictionary. They say a team of monkeys can eventually produce the entire works of Shakespeare. Wait long long. But what exactly is my point about writing and thinking? Find out after the break!

Right, we've had the break, my point is simply that I have been teaching the high art of essay-writing. If she ever comes up with some creature resembling Talkcocksummit, I would be the proudest. But firstly, I gotta teach the writing. And as anyone and everyone who has ever been a tuition teacher will know, asking "Do you understand?" inevitably brings about a "Yes" answer. And next comes the blank stare that shatters all notions of intellectual triumph that one might have had. Therein lies the problem. Writing reflects the maturity of thinking, so the thinking has to be of a good standard. But how do you make a person think a thought?

Although not exactly relevant, the problem is compounded by the standing of people (undergraduates) who teach English or essay writing. We have the moral standing that is right down there with the Viagra peddlers and the Nigerian bankers. I put it down to jealousy. They think all it involves is being there and teaching what is already inside my head. Little do they know of the philosophical implications that I have to grapple with. The whole situation only lays bare how little we know of learning and thinking. Something so integral and yet so mysterious. Like having noodles everyday only to find out eventually that they are the hair of mermaids. Alright time to stop I'm scaring myself.