So, I'm sifting through The Band's archives, here, and I find this, which is no less than Evidence of Why You Should Keep Copies of Old Letters to Close Friends (excerpt from letter dated 12/19/95):
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Keep the faith. One last inspirational (I think) thought -- I've been pondering this concept lately.....in light of my statement that I am more comfortable with the poets than the philosophers....I have never understood, in all my days -- from being an undergrad and studying religion/theology to current day philosophical discussions/debates -- the reason that, whenever a discussion waxes philosophical, the notion of "Is there a God?" and "How can we prove that there is a God?" comes up. Seemed then and still does, to me, to be totally irrelevant.

Scripture was not written as philosophy, so why is it analyzed by philosophers in philosophical language? Do biologists use philosophical terms to talk about the body?? (Certainly, John Lilly does.) Do lawyers use iambic pentameter to discuss law?? I just don't get it. It isn't that I find no value in philosophy, or in philosophical thinking; it is a good thing to be able to think critically, and precisely and analytically -- I would be, at best, silly to deny or attempt to dispute this in any way.

But I think it's fair to say that it's equally silly to deny that, after a certain point, it all becomes moot. Take the notion that a "thought" or "opinion" can be peeled like an onion -- well, if you think this, what makes you think it?....and if you think that, what makes you think that?....and on and on, ad infinitum. Like, think of the onion. You can peel it, again and again, and again, and again....and eventually have nothing left. Does that mean that there isn't really anything there??

....furthermore, why does this so annoy me?? I think of the image of the burning bush......and a discussion among philosophers as to whether or not the bush is really burning, or is it only burning because we think it is, or perceive it to be on fire, or whatever. The Easterns seem to so clearly cut through all of this mental masturbation......if one questions whether or not the bush is truly burning, the roshi would very likely respond, "Jump in!" Certain things are real, and certain things are not. Why is this so difficult for people to understand?? Or, rather, why is it so "easy" for me to "understand," or "know" or "grasp" -- and in such an unwavering manner? Why would anyone pose the question "Is there a God?" except to pose it to themselves, and how could one person ever determine that they are in any way qualified to determine whether or not there is one??

Me, I'm a critter......that's how I look at myself, anyway, in the large scale structure of the universe. I want a warm nest to retreat to, after I'm done scurrying around. The universe does not revolve around me -- I am a part of it -- and I'm happy with that. There are things that I cannot "know," and I'm comfortable with that, and I really don't understand how anyone could be presumptuous enough to think that they could figure everything out! I mean, HOW?!?!??! There are things which I can only experience, and there are things which I can only respond to by embodying the voice of "Wow!" And I don't feel any less alive or aware than anyone I know who requires more. And, it seems, that most people who I know who do require more are not happy. Perhaps they are so frightened by the chaos of life that they choose to compartmentalize it into "ideas" that they can analyze and trick themselves into thinking that they understand, thereby deriving some fabricated sense of control over themselves, or at least their place in the universe.

There is no control, [my good friend]. The universe is out of control. Out of our's, at least.

Do we have a place in the universe?? Why is it that I am perfectly happy with the following answer:
"Maybe we do. Maybe we don't. Who cares, and what does it really matter, anyway?? You're here, is all. So be here."

Really, I think if everyone felt this the way I do, people would be a damned sight happier with their existence. And subscribing to these notions do not mean likewise adopting a totally deterministic view of life....we are now and remain free to make choices.....and our choices will determine the paths of our futures......and life is very much, it seems to me, about making choices. Because, if you don't make them, who will? I mean, what else is there to do here????

Ya know, my friend, you either dance, or you watch other people dance, or you talk about other people who watch other people dance. What's the attraction of this twice-thrice-twenty-times removed existence, except that it's probably safe and flat and predictable??

It would bore me to tears, I'm afraid. I need to touch things, get dirty, get rained on -- through experience, that's how I understand things. And I like it....the slight sting of ice crystals on my face -- not pleasant, but it is something that I know.....the sadness of a child who thought he was going to get a super sundae and wound up with an ordinary ice cream cone....that sense of loss......the warmth and safety of a woman and the soft yet undeniable desire to be with her.....knowing that someone you loved, or didn't love, maybe even didn't even get to know but wondered about knowing, is gone, from life, your's and everyone else's.....how can anyone "explain" such things in terms of reason and analysis???? Life is color, and thrash and energy and sound. And mystery.

And I'm pretty annoyed by any philosophical venture that attempts to in any way diminish its awesome and sacred beauty.
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Later.