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No’ing Half The Battle

I need to know something. That’s all just anything will do. I want to know it so bad and then un-know the crap out of it when I find something to know better.

What was I…..oh, yes!

I have a question and seek it’s fickle partner; the answer. So that I may use their backs to build bridges to the next hot queries, and so forth, and so on…and so fond.

There is one question that was not asked, answered!

The one that gave birth to another need to ask.

“What is it worth to you?”

Still more information being sought and yet it serves as a complete answer to an unasked question.

Need to, no basis. Want to know even the things we didn’t know we wanted to know.


What else brings the random union of humanity!? (Trick question; Tee Hee.)

Gotta interrogate everything that speaks!

A magnet of “civility”.

“They” who hold the most info will have the coldest pillow.

 THEM. They will not sleep. Those with their nose out for infos, can rarely close their, eyes, ears or nose.

Besides; being the encyclopedia makes you a tool. One that sees a lot of use. A battered and abused fountain of enlightenment. A depot of information, dispensed to mobs of inquisitors.

People flock to “knowledge”.

They unite behind it’s intangible shield of distortion in an otherwise clouded imaginary stupor.

Without knowledge, you are no match for anything human.

You are beaten; why?

They will unite; the educated, the learned, the wise, the enlightened, the studied, the trialed, the superior. For they all band together in the name of the one thing they can agree on; the knowledge, the truth. The incomparable to fact, concrete evidence of nature. The infallible and undeniable reality of a thing. Absolution. In stone, so that it cannot be mistaken for conjecture.

The interesting thing about stone is that it too, crumbles under the pressure of force.

No, I’m finished.

No, not finished; well, that was all I deem necessary to denote.



Tell us grass is not green and we will assemble armies to defend our singular judgment.

What say you!?

Defy my words, name them the un-truth of IN-sanity.

I could never possibly write a thing that one could not arrive at, alone, up to the hip in existential queries and environmental adaptations. With brief mention of the hordes of others, smacking their hammers upon their thumbs; all unified in the knowledge of pain, regret, awareness and clumsiness as it pertains to hammer usage.

Your tools in life, our precious experiences and knowable prowess; they are hammers. They are saws, bits and levers. They are our needles, thread, and stitching concept even. They are our plates and tables. They are our spoons, forks and most certainly the knives that cut you and everything in sight, or shouting distance.

What say you, then!?

Come! Join us all, the “ones”.


What!? No one ever told you that you too can become a “they”? A “them” and of course a “those”.

Why, you may already be one.

You are one.

I am everything. Don’t you worry about what I know.

You will know what I know, if you knew what you think you know.

I have paid many a soul in information. Regardless if I actually know said information. You may be surprised to find out how much one can learn from being wrong on purpose.

“Have you seen my hammer?”

Yes, as a matter of factual information; I have seen it. I laid eyes on it the very last time I spotted you swinging it!

“Smart ass!”

If I were really smart, I would have just told you where you put it after you were done swinging it.

“Where in the fire is my goddamn hammer, ya’ll!?”

Someone stole your hammer then?

“No, I was just fucking with ya’ll, I got it here!”

With four involved, you better believe there were the info vultures, chattering in the forground, baiting with lies.

About a fake-missing hammer.

Unity for a lost cause.

In fallacy, born of deception.

A verily sound union of mixed involvements and wonderful wordy gems of information, twirling about; just not the ones you can see, nor hear if not paying close attention.

People often pay for what they can get at the price of patience and will.

It’s a “ya had ta be there moment”, one a second hand experience would diminish, until it is a “huh?” moment. Do not overlook the value of unknowing, re-knowing.

Know that when you know; everyone knows.

There is not a thorn on Earth that two humans have not pricked upon the same finger at two remote times and locations and often in exact ones.

No thought originated in your brain that was not the abandoned one in another.

Humanity is a species that prioritizes information above all else; seemingly, only comparison can guide a human to conclusions about it’s environment. No “abilities”.

This of course is not accurate information. A human needs truth.

The truth is that all any lifeform is; is what capabilities it boasts to thrive, unopposed or with adequacy for procreation, in the least.

We have these…..oh yes, these!



This is a mighty ax, indeed.

Wielded without injury, only by the informed; strength of a different nature.

It is surely there to lop the toes of those who have no prose.

You have got to know and no something….eventually…or else…

What do you know to need?


What do you feed the one who knows just what they need?

People who don’t….know…or go no and really don’t know.

The ones who “know” tell everyone no.

No unites those who know.

There is rarely anyone left alive that does, once the war for being right begins.

Unite; even if you’re dead wrong.

“They” are doing it already and ready with their phones in hand to slip under and in like a bed pan.

Feed “them” what you eat for breakfast.

The most important thing is that everyone is satisfied.

Always argue with the idiot; for what you know will serve you in no other way.

Truth is for everyone and lies are for all of the versions of it.

You need each other to matter; one way or the other, the idiot is smarter to want to hash it out.

Knowing does not matter as much as no-ing…..apparently…

No’ing better…by Fartfist

Published by Fartfist

I am personally a personal personality for a personable person using this persona.

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