"A ship in the harbor is safe. But that's not what ships were built for."
Religious faith, political ideology, artistic school, all these are safe harbors. They protect from the elements: error, uncertainty, and a hurricane of questions. Food is plentiful, there are warm drinks and warmer company. But ships are not built to stay in harbor. Ships are vehicles of exploration, of trade, and if necessary, of war. A ship in the harbor is safe, but that's not what ships were built for.
The ship of our philosophy was meant to leave port. To brave the stormy and restless seas. It's not easy: the food is short, the work long, the rum is always gone. At any moment we could founder and be lost without a trace. A ship in the harbor is safe, but that's not what ships were built for.
So our ship of philosophy sets forth on the wine dark sea. We jorney from port to port, dropping anchor. We trade our goods: thoughts and ideas, questions and concepts. Some ports become centers of trade, the destination of hundereds of ships. Goods flow in and out. Other ports are samll, but vital sources of rare jewels and precious stuffs. But no matter how rich the port, how safe the harbor, the ship sails on. A ship in the harbor is safe, but that's not what ships were built for.
From time to time, we are buffeted by storms, great gales that blow us from our course. From time to time, we find ourselves in uncharted waters, espying new headlands. Sometimes we even set out for these unknown quarters of the Earth, seeking new vistas and hoping to uncover new territory and perhaps even a wealth of new ideas. But even here we do not tarry. A ship in the harbor is safe, but that's not what ships were built for.
"Tonight we light the fires, we call our ships to port. Tonight we walk on water, and tomorrow we'll be gone."
Googlebombing for a cause: www.minnesotangos.org