The Word

November 22, 2011
By HugeManatee BRONZE, CYPRESS, California
HugeManatee BRONZE, CYPRESS, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The idea is much more than a thought. The thought is a rolling wave, sprinting up the shore in a fit of foam and thrashing, only to slide back into the sea when its progress is stopped by the rolling sand. It is a fleeting shadow, a sudden occurrence, a flash of anger, a short unrelated story, and shot of electrons to the correct neurons. A thought is often the result of observations, bright lightning flying through the sky only to disappear. It lacks the power of the idea, which is the thunderous reply to the lightning, a genuine reaction crafted from each forest, each tree, each rock, and each grain of sand that the sound bounces off of, back into the air to shout back at the sky.

The idea, though sought after and thrown up from the same dark depths from where thoughts emerge, is much less fleeting and asserts its permanence prominently. Kelp thrown up upon the shore of the mind, it refuses to slide back with the blue mass of thoughts. It is unique in its twists and its leaves. Pulled up from the depth that lies beneath poetry, the kelp sticks to minds, clinging wet to motivations and dreams. Ideas force people and groups to action, weaving their way through popular opinion and parties. Used correctly, the kelp will wind prettily through the sand, reminiscent of its past inhabitants. Bound by society, it will curve beautifully in the sand. Before valuing this trait, the mind must realize that beauty is, in times of need, quite useless.

A tiger prowls for hours, ingrained in the land, before sensing the perfect time to jump into sight, and declare its prominence to all in sight. Force drives the herd forward, the minds of masses acting on pure instinct A tiger will drive a herd of gazelles into a panic, fleeing forth even when the sight of the powerful beast is gone. Sprinting over all else, the herd becomes oblivious to other needs and desire; it is fully contained by the idea.

Used with calculation, the idea will force entire nations to its whims, instilling a drive absent in the presence of pure thought. Yet the idea can also become the turtle. Alive for a human eternity, the turtle walks, climbs, eats, and sleeps behind the foreground of the world. Unnoticed by the minds wandering around it, it wanders in the recesses of rocks and caves for years. One day, the curious eye will stumble upon it, and soon question the odd creature. With so many years contained in its wrinkled shell, it contains the knowledge of nations. Yet as the turtle, its knowledge will remain locked away, as an idea does not always share its secrets.

Often, however, the idea fails to show itself at all. It stays out in the depths, floating endlessly in the sea.

The author's comments:
This is an odd exercise I did, just a descriptive rant. It attempts to mirror some of Steinbeck's more common imagery in his novels.

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