QOD: How is an ankle unlike a consequence?

The consequence of an ankle, that joint formed by the articulation of the lower leg bones with the talus, is something of a mystery. Shakespeare once said, “Ungarter’d, and down-gyved to his ankle.” I gyved up trying to figure that out, and turned to Wordsworth instead:

“For still, the more he works, the more
Do his weak ankles swell.”

Unfortunately, there seems to be a consequence in there, even though he didn’t use the word. This obviously tells us nothing beyond the need to get an ergonomic chair and footstool, as well as proper footwear. Tennyson, who was a Lord, and therefore something of an authority in somebody’s eyes, had this to say:

“One praised her ankles, one her eyes,
One her dark hair and lovesome mein.”

I don’t know about you, but my opinion is that a bunch of guys praising a woman like that have got definite hopes or even outright intentions concerning certain results, which leans a bit into consequence. What she DOES about all this probably has consequences as well.

As to consequence itself, Dickens says, “It’s of no consequence,” while Kipling talks about “Almost inevitable consequences.” Rather confusing, so I tend to rely more upon the Reverend Barham’s advice: “If it’s business of consequence, do it yourself!”

Still not sure how ankles wind around consequences, or vice versa. Sam Johnson said, “It is incident to physicians, I am afraid, beyond all other men, to mistake subsequence for consequence.” I’m no MD, but I’m willing to accept the notion that I’ve made similar mistakes. He also said that “The applause of a single human being is of great consequence,” which certainly comforts me during those lonely hours of stringing words together. Perhaps I’ll never achieve fame, but in truth, the world changes in increments, and if I only nudge a little here and there, I still convey those things most dear to me.

William James spoke of “The attitude of looking away from first things, principles, “categories,” supposed necessities, and of looking toward last things, fruits, consequences, facts.” I believe that we as writers perform a service in telling the truth, regardless of the form we choose; that is, we must be truer to those last things than we are to our first premises. What is the difference between propaganda and the sort of writing that liberates?

While we’re here in this artistic vein, let’s give a listen to another James (Henry): “I still, in presence of life…have reactions—as many as possible… It’s, I suppose, because I am that queer monster, the artist, an obstinate finality, an inexhaustible sensibility. Hence the reactions—appearances, memories, many things, go on playing upon it with consequences that I note and “enjoy” (grim word!) noting. It all takes doing—and I do, I believe I shall do yet again—it is still an act of life.” Think about that: writers are seers. In the process of following acts, relationships, policies, etc., to the multitude of possible conclusions, we cry a warning or offer good tidings. No matter the audience, the service is effective. “Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men,” according to Thomas Henry Huxley.

Guy named Bob (Ingersoll) decided that “In nature there are neither rewards nor punishments--there are consequences.” My only difficulty with that is the sense of an underlying attitude that humankind is not a part of nature but something separate (and elevated, if you believe any of the patriarchal religions). Of course, that attitude would leave out the “hu” and agree with the Earl of Chesterfield, who felt that “Women, then, are only children of a larger growth: they have an entertaining tattle, and sometimes wit; but for solid, reasoning good-sense, I never knew in my life one that had it, or who reasoned or acted consequentially for four and twenty hours together.” I, for one, must leave such antiquated notions behind, determining myself to be an important actor upon the stage, no matter the number of lines assigned me.

In large part, Western religion, which claims to preach and teach moral values, actually offers an escape route, as the Duc de la Rochefoucauld pointed out when he said that “Our repentance is not so much regret for the ill we have done as fear of the ill that may happen to us in consequence.” This idea of a second life awaiting a repentant or an unrepentant soul is reflected as well in Shakespeare’s writing:

“If it were done when ‘tis done, then ‘twere well
It were done quickly; if the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here.
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
We’d jump the life to come.”

Give me a stronger morality, one that allows me the insight to see beyond my own comfort, to view the totality, to act not simply for my own present, but for the future that is when I am gone.

A quick word from two Lords:

“Because right is right, to follow right
Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.” (Tennyson)

“If we believe a thing to be bad, and if we have a right to prevent it, it is our duty to try to prevent it and to damn the consequences.” (Milner)

Scorn and damnation upon the immediate reaction; we must see beyond to the far place upon the road we travel. Shakespeare’s warning seems especially appropriate to me now:

“And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray ‘s
In deepest consequence.”

Why should we care? The notion that our freedom is guaranteed by words written on an ancient piece of paper is nonsense. “The condition upon which God hath given liberty to man is eternal vigilance; which condition if he break, servitude is at once the consequence of his crime and the punishment of his guilt.” (John Philpot Curran) God aside, the principle is true: what liberty we gain must be guarded, or it begins to slip through our fingers. Take a look. How many euphemisms have crept into your writing? Are you politically correct? Does it bother you that the list of books you borrow from the library is no longer private? How about your phone calls? Is someone listening in? Judging? Considering whether or not to decide you’re unpatriotic?

“If men are to be precluded from offering their sentiments on a matter which may involve the most serious and alarming consequences that can invite the consideration of mankind, reason is of no use to us; the freedom of speech may be taken away, and dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.” (George Washington, the man who might have been king)

Do you feel discouraged? “It is not a field of a few acres of ground, but a cause, that we are defending, and whether we defeat the enemy in one battle, or by degrees, the consequences will be the same.” (Thomas Paine)

How’s an ankle unlike a consequence? Silly question. But for those who betray the public trust, how about this for a consequence? We warm up those ankles and give the bastards the boot.