This Holiday message from me. When in an effort to see that no one is fooled, you cede control authority to one who cannot be fooled – then everyone ends up being fooled.

Ignorance is not a state of holding partial or incorrect information, rather it is the belief that one has personally attained a state of immunity to incorrect information.

A persistence of blindness who’s lesson’s quite cruel
The worst form of idiot thinks he cannot be fooled.

by Theodor Eric Seussel

A planner of trestles and layer of tracks
Purveyor of cartniks with plumthings on their backs,
The Whos of Fair Pluntkin fully decked out in auld
Could barely scarce function without things which he hauled.

His hovel not cluttered his mind like Straight Lane
His cartniks lined up to shuttle plumthings again,
For short were his musings and so scarce were his lacks
That the Whos of Fair Pluntkin did cede him their tracks.

Come spring summer’s fresh offing or winter’s cold somethings
No Debble of Doubthill would delay their dear plumthings,
Cartniks would arrive here and then sometimes there
The Whos of Fair Pluntkin just didn’t care where.

Whos knew that from Kesnig and Pennington to Kuled
They were the Hermit of Nosnix’s who couldn’t be fooled.

When an idea arose in the talk of Fair Pluntkin
‘Why don’t we go looking for quazlots and buntpins?’
Such cans of rare ore good were legend of old
More precious than silver, fine jewelry or gold.

They setout a plan to build trackway and charter
And bade their tough Hermit to sit down and barter,
But he could not be bought and he would not be schooled
For he was the Hermit of Nosnix and nobody’s fool.

Thus did they cajole him and call him by name
Offering up plumthings and palace and fame,
‘Lay us the tracks there and we’ll run cartnik cans
The Debbles of Doubthill won’t thwart any such plans!’

But staid in his knowledge of their trestles and tracks,
He vowed to confuse cartniks with cans on their backs!
Quazlots and buntpins were foolish men’s mirth
Of fleeting sheer fantasy in essence and worth;

Such trackways to Debbles should never be tooled
I am the Hermit of Nosnix and I cannot be fooled!

So each newly laid line of steel and proud skill
He plotted curve ’round all Debbles of Doubthill;
For whether tracks stopped there or ran ’round their threat
In either case ran no cartnik cans yet!

Year after year Whos laid out Who plans
To find fear of Debbles had blocked all their cans!
The tracks he laid toward them only bent ’round again
To meetup with tracks from once which they came!

So hated he quazlots and buntpins and mirth
That he wouldn’t lay tracks there no matter their worth!
In the town of Fair Pluntkin by the Hermit protected
Each winter of somethings Whos grew more dejected.

An old cynic’s vanity rendered cartniks to rot
Because quazlots were real and Debbles were not!
A persistence of blindness whose lesson’s quite cruel
The worst form of idiot thinks he cannot be fooled.

Thus the Whos of Fair Pluntkin had all left astray
Leaving cartnik’s tracks rusting away where they lay;
While Fair Kesnig and Pennington had taken their outfill
Because they didn’t believe in Debbles of Doubthill.

Come spring summer’s fresh offing or winter’s cold somethings
The town of Fair Pluntkin had run out of dear plumthings,
Every Who had been duped who lived Kesnig to Kuled
By the Hermit of Nosnix who couldn’t be fooled.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

The Ethical Skeptic, “The Hermit of Nosnix Who Couldn’t be Fooled”; The Ethical Skeptic, WordPress, 16 Dec 2018; Web, https://wp.me/p17q0e-98Z