Aye Am the Questioning Sort

The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know… which insightful, gutsy, entrancing, catchy apothegm attributed to Socrates by way of Plato subsequently self ranking myself amidst Phylum Chordata with the Dodo bird Class Aves (namely said extinct flightless winged creature with a mass of 29 – 51 pounds Oh!) once endemic to the island of Mauritius, east of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean, none would be espied, no matter how thorough going across aquatic spreadsheet, one might row eventually coordinating dropping vertical column in toto arriving back to original mentally ponderous premise gamboling feint enroute to see Old Man Wizard Of Oz meets Crow Medicine Show pitching thy quasi recursive query - bro ching concurrence with another maxim to boot “ignorance iz bliss”, which lack o'learn'n doss appeal to this old coot, yet such pithy accordance came to this smart ass to late, a mister wordsmith with a palm pilot maximum glute clamors (at risk of life and limb) to hoot and holler when new kernel of knowledge gleaned finds me mute as if raw bit of savored information akin to unearthing a rare gem, or rare species of newt temporarily allaying fervent quest to root thru hefty tomes of great literature, and tracts that suit many other subjects, less to be arrogant and toot my own horn, but more so... to satisfy an increasingly insatiable hunger grow wing nsync with unquenchable thirsty ambition less for dough (cuz bing po' with treasure trove of voluminous expansive bookish notions doth shaw surpass becoming suddenly wealthy tin pot hustlers with un hewn fifty nine shades of gray straw this haint no cowardly lion seeking Androcles to extract thorn from hum my faux paws.