This is an old one, taken from elseblog, delivered here, almost exactly one year later.
And you want to believe in the why and the wherefore, if for no other reason than wherefore is a comforting word, like an antique chair that has endured countless moves and messy children and pets and drunk mothers and formidable dust accumulation, among other ills that may befall a chair; but it is comforting in its thereness.
Wherefore, the word of Juliet from a balcony, self-spoken, and in 8th-grade thinking another girl your own age in some other age had the courage and the lust and the wonder and the wherewithal to stand on a balcony and utter those silly words of seeking into the night; and better, that a 30-something year-old man penned those words for her lips and you could sit in an antique chair and read them, like some other girl or man did a couple hundred years ago, a different weight distribution but still, the bearing down is what matters while the words float up past you. Wherewithal--wherefore--the where more important than the why alone. Meaning why nonetheless, for what reasons, and even perhaps how, as in how did this come to be, another way of why-ing. There is much to be curious about in the where and its decrepit little fore, rendered useless in our times, obsolete.
But you want to believe in it, or at least that someone somewhere believes in it, and answers for it, if only silently. Silence is comforting, too. It's not necessary that you believe in it, but that someone somewhere does -- they believe in it for you while you attend to other matters. You want to feel a certain solidity in your language, in your frame of reference, in the things you sit on. Someone should see to it, shouldn't they? Why and wherefore and heavy wooden objects and the floor should be in place before the dancing, yes?
And you want to believe in the why and the wherefore, if for no other reason than wherefore is a comforting word, like an antique chair that has endured countless moves and messy children and pets and drunk mothers and formidable dust accumulation, among other ills that may befall a chair; but it is comforting in its thereness.
Wherefore, the word of Juliet from a balcony, self-spoken, and in 8th-grade thinking another girl your own age in some other age had the courage and the lust and the wonder and the wherewithal to stand on a balcony and utter those silly words of seeking into the night; and better, that a 30-something year-old man penned those words for her lips and you could sit in an antique chair and read them, like some other girl or man did a couple hundred years ago, a different weight distribution but still, the bearing down is what matters while the words float up past you. Wherewithal--wherefore--the where more important than the why alone. Meaning why nonetheless, for what reasons, and even perhaps how, as in how did this come to be, another way of why-ing. There is much to be curious about in the where and its decrepit little fore, rendered useless in our times, obsolete.
But you want to believe in it, or at least that someone somewhere believes in it, and answers for it, if only silently. Silence is comforting, too. It's not necessary that you believe in it, but that someone somewhere does -- they believe in it for you while you attend to other matters. You want to feel a certain solidity in your language, in your frame of reference, in the things you sit on. Someone should see to it, shouldn't they? Why and wherefore and heavy wooden objects and the floor should be in place before the dancing, yes?
