Some time of not so long ago

he was an average student

at an average university in pursuit

of an average education;

he knew himself ignorant then

and he knew himself ignorant now --

thus, he concluded that some things

do not change.

He remembered that it was

final exam time in a

semantics course

that gave him an insight

into the magnitude of his folly.

The exam was three hours

in duration

and all the students had

the very same task:

to complete the writing

of two essays.

First, blue-books were distributed

to each student; then,

a small yellow sheet of paper

with the essay topics legible to all.

Essay 1: through argumentation,

prove that you exist.

Essay 2: through argumentation,

prove that you do NOT exist.

Certainly, all of the class could feel

the rise of the temperature

in that June

sun-baked classroom, with the beige

of the blinds dangling limp

from the windows, not blocking out

the heat, but rather summoning it

all the more as a malevolence

defining the moment.

Of course, there were no fans,

no circulation present

and as the students

composed their statements,

each tapped a foot following

the rhythm

of the drip of each other=s sweat

onto the warped oak floor.

In the blinking of an eye, everyone

was done, the three hours

of each of their lives voided

into a hot June day.

With thankful hearts most students

evacuated the classroom

with the hope that air

could be found somewhere.

A few students, however,

stayed in the torment

of that oven, realizing

their accomplishment

and that remnant blankly observed it

in silence, unnerved in their broil.

Each of their two essays proved

both sides equally true, equally valid

equally acceptable as fact.

They also understood

that if they had acquired the skill

to equally prove and disprove

what is there,

they were equipped to do

the very same for what is not there.

Thus, all of the remnant accepted

that since none had a reason

to trust anything he or she thought

there was no plausible reason

to trust the thoughts of anyone else.

So the remnant sat there

puzzled in pits

of their own perspiration,

victims of their own minds,

wondering where to go to from there.

Some of the remnant never left

that June heat; some are there still.

As it is written:

"I will destroy the wisdom of the wise;

the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate."