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In awe with the complexity of keeping things simple

As you by now know, I have convinced myself that unraveling the networks of interlocked connections will keep my mind from getting stuck in oblivion, at the same time providing me with the enormous satisfaction that arises from the ability to make sense of it all.

In awe with the complexity of keeping things simple, I found myself on this scavenger hunt today that started with investigating the stage of maturity of the figs at a friend’s house, through a biological treatise on a specific kind of wasps that I needed to check to refresh my memory, but instead send me of on this wild goose chase of instantly trying to grasp the life, works and legacy of the French anarchist philosopher Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, a foolish and hopeless pursuit, unattainable for someone like me, since I am not economically savvy at all and have only a basic understanding of philosophical science.

I could of course have written all this down much more comprehensibly by immediately pointing out the term Mutualism as the unifying factor in these figments, but I myself sometimes forget what got me from a to b. Besides, all of these attributes are easily Googl’able so I trust that if you want to dust of your knowledge about figs not being fruits but actually inside-out flowers that can only be pollinated by female fig wasps, who, by trying to enter through a tight hole, lose their wings and get trapped inside, so we’ll end up consuming its protein too when we stuff our faces with these delicacies, you don’t need me to educate you. Also, your own fear of or love for socialism and revolution will likely further increase your willingness to read on about this old French school of thought, more than mine ever will.

Noteworthy nonetheless is the fact that we don’t currently have a fig tree at Les Pierres, so technically checking and at long last picking all of our absent friend’s figs could be considered stealing. This is where Proudhon’s economic theory suits me fine, glorifying property in the product of labor over property strayed from possession. I might dread the amount of work processing this abundance of figs will entrust me, but I’m blissfully untroubled never to be called a thief.

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