This Is Review . . . .

I was once asked a very serious and brutally honest question:

"Do you ever think?"

Now. We have a lot to start with here. I could, for instance, site the fact that the human brain is constantly at work and it is, quite honestly, impossible not to think. But that, if I may make so bold a claim, is not my style. Nor am I in the habit of speaking in, however limited by inexperience it may be, a scientific way. So. Answer number one incites a verdict of: FAIL.

Next on my imaginary list of ways to answer this question brings us to a very vital question - how do I define the word "think?" Or, perhaps more to the point, how does the unnamed owner of the mentioned question? If we're talking strictly passive analysis, like:

First Self: "I'm hungry."

Second Self: "Do something about it."

First Self: "But I'm tired, too."

Second Self: "What does that have to do with anything?"

First Self: "I'm in bed, and I'm tired. And the kitchen is dark and I'll probably stub my toe."

Second Self: "Are you saying you don't have the guts?"

First Self: "Well, that's a ridiculous question. That's completely irrelevent."

Second Self: "Wow. You're right."

First Self: "I know.

Second Self: "Man, you're a genius."

First Self: "Tell me something I don't know."

Second Self: "Impossible!"

Then I'd have to answer, "Yes. In fact, I think a great deal of the time." But, if we're talking about a deeper kind of . . . . . pondering, like:

First Self: "This novel paints a perfect picture of Middle-Industrial America!"

Second Self: "I agree completely. And the character of the wheat grower - sheer genius!"

First Self: "I second that motion completely."

Second Self: "I can't believe they market this book to children!"

First Self: "I think it's the title."

Second Self: "Farmer Fran's Adventure?"

First Self: "Don't you think its rather . . . 'children's bookish?'"

Second Self: "And you call yourself a literate."

Then I'd have to say . . . well, yes. I do think. But I haven't been in the habit of cataloging my infrequent plunges into deeper mental waters. So, no evidence would be in play. Therefore. Method number 2 incites a verdict of . . . .FAIL.

My third method involves seeking for and using real life examples of "thinkers," a term I use to label "people who think," which of course is a Latin derivative of name, "Glenn Beck." But, quite honestly, finding "thinkers" on televised stations like CNN and Fox News is an exercise in futility, at least when thinking for you is based on a "one" through "five minute" per thought process. Those guys just talk so fast.

But, I digress. Back to brass tacks. "Thinkers." Well, I could point to you, my less than obsessed (and maybe flat-out nonexistent) readers. How long did you spend combing through online catalogs of brilliant minds before you arrived belatedly at mine? For what purpose did you start your quest? A pursuit of higher knowledge, comic relief, mental stimulus? If we use any of these definitions of what I like to call, "'prelude to thought' thoughts," then we are in fact no closer to deriving any answer at all.

But, if we analyze your method of choosing what vague and outlying blog to read . . . . we may get somewhere. Amidst such names as "Family Review," "My Life's Review," Friendly Review," and "A Life Well Lived," you have chosen the very un-praiseworthy "This Is Review." I mean, come on. The title doesn't even make sense. Does the author intend to define "review?" Or is he so self-absorbed that he believes anything he writes and attaches his name to is instantly worth reviewing? Or maybe he is under the delusion that every small occurrence in his less than noteworthy life is automatically a review of the human situation and all that goes along with it . . . Boy, would I like to get my hands around this bloke's neck.

But, back to "thinkers." If you, my loyal readers, are truly "thinkers," and you chose to read a blog so narcissistically titled, "This Is Review," (a decision you will regret for the rest of your natural lives) then method 3 of deriving an answer for that unnerving question with which I opened this post is, invariably and absolutely: FAIL.

I am NOT looking forward to my mid-sleep hunger.