I am Boomer, vast millions born, child of father fought foreign shore, my mother’s birth nineteen-twenty, she came of age midst poverty. Both dared to dream, both forced to fight, as they, like we, had view finite. The eyes with which the world all view parochial, all minds occlude.
We seek the truth but only find vaguest notions, rough paradigms. For we all stand with eyes shut wide, vision tempered with foolish pride. Just as hen’s teeth easy to find, someone who thinks, tries to divine, beyond what’s heard and parroted with little thought inside our heads.
Confirmation! That blessed bias! The one all use as litmus test. Hard to discard when we’ve been taught that being right trumps truth that’s sought. I know that those of tender years have not this fault for they’re all ears. Never would they assume a thing without proper, deep fact checking.
Unbiased youth who know it all, it must be grand have Crystal Ball! That does inform unbiased minds that they are right every damn time. Hard to discard what we’ve been taught and parroted with little thought when our world view parochial is to believe we know it all.