These ghosts of meaning,
Flicker like grace notes;
Virtual particles;
Mere logical flaws.
I like putting sciencey stuff in poems. it seems obtuse. This is about how sure we can be of our thoughts, feelings, perceptions; and how we're often wrong.
It's been getting to me recently. This democracy of opinion, judgments made with little, or no, thought.
Like Harlan Ellison said,
"Everybody has opinions: I have them, you have them. And we are all told from the moment we open our eyes, that everyone is entitled to his or her opinion. Well, that’s horsepuckey, of course. We are not entitled to our opinions; we are entitled to our informed opinions. Without research, without background, without understanding, it’s nothing. It’s just bibble-babble. It’s like a fart in a wind tunnel, folks."
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