So, I should have gone to bed about thirty-five minutes ago, but I haven’t.
Despite not having my camera, I am going to be getting up to get photos of the sunrise at Bondi Beach.
It’s mostly preparation for the real things.
Now, originally this had led to me talking about what I do and don’t know, and whether I knew what I knew or didn’t know what I knew and how much I knew was what I knew instead of not knowing as other people knew instead of me knowing.
However, as I had a short conversation with Ewe and the timer kept on running, I started again and now this is about how much Ewe knows.
Ewe knows what he knows.
He does not know that what he knows is what he knows, but I know it.
In fact, it’s fair to say that if he knew what he knew was what he knew and more than some but less than others, than he would know that he knew what he knew was what he knew.
Ewe knows so much that he can dead-lift two fresh summer apricots on the hair of the dandelion that floats on a single wisp of air throughout the sky of our paradise.
He knows so much that once there was a dog and he petted it and some sweat came off his hand and landed on the dog and then the dog started to buzz out and gained the knowledge of it being a dog, even though it already knew it was a dog and suddenly decided to become one of those “jolly good, chap” dogs that people sometimes like.
It wore a cummerbund and then politely sniffed a tree.
Ewe knows so much that if one were to accost a brick due to its intense behaviour, he would be able to tell you how many fibers it takes to make a sausage from the raw earth of the earth.
One tends to wonder that, if Ewe knows all that he knows, then why does he not know that what he knows could be more than what he knows instead of knowing what he doesn’t know is merely a small hole in his vast knowing of things.
Maybe he does know what he knows is what he knows and he would rather not say that what he knows is what he knows instead of saying that what he knows is what he knows.
Surely, there must be some way of finding out the truth to this riddle that extends through time on a cosmological course towards the potential to know.
The only way to find out is to see if one could trick Ewe into answering a question about how much he knows.
If one were to do that, they would be able to find out if he knew that what he knows is what he knows or if the opposite is the case.
If we knew that, then hooray.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 9:55:29
There was actually something about something else (I can’t remember what), but as Ewe did call me during the typing of that one, I started again (also as the timer didn’t stop running), and made it about him.
Here’s to you, Ewe!
Written in bed.