evidence

stewConsciously or not (mostly not), I think we’re all out to prove something — a thesis or assumption about life, the universe, and everything*. And like anyone trying to make a point, we notice, and accumulate, proof.

I have a dear friend who once stopped a conversation to laughingly point out that anything is “arguable” (apparently I like to say “arguably,” when being argumentative). He’s right. Anything is arguable. And anything is provable, just about… Elvis lives. Aliens poked me. Tom Cruise is insane. Or, more critically, “life sucks.” Or doesn’t…

This raises an important question: What am I trying to prove? And don’t say “nothing,” ’cause that’s arguably a load of cr*p… We’re all proving something. We can’t help it. “Look! See? Life does suck.” Or “Damn, life is pretty amazing.”

I (of course) prefer the latter. It brings me things like the note I received tonight from John, my oldest friend in the world, writing to basically celebrate how amazing his life is. And submitting the wonderful photo above: His dog Stew, being (arguably) absolutely f*cking amazing.