Philosophy of Owlistocres

A brief treatise on the great works of Owlistocres.

During the age of wisdom, in which owls ruled the world, there hatched a truly brilliant mind the likes of which have never been seen since. His name was Owlistacres. Make no mistake, you are pronouncing it wrong. To truly grasp this owl's genius one would have to be an owl, and as we are not, we can not.

Funnily enough, that exact phrase is quite close to the infamous scratchings which garnered the great owl such fame in the first place, but we shall get to that in a second.

Owlesticres was the first owl to ask the real questions on every owl's mind.

"Who are we? Why are we here? What is our purpose?"

Ouilstocreus traveled far and wide in search of the answers to these unanswerable questions, and discovered instead the answers to some of life's other great mysteries. What modern humans now consider advanced mathematics, the Grand Parliament once considered the subject of elementary study suitable for hatchlings. Their understanding of quantum mechanics was so astounding that another owl whose name was forgotten had perfected the art of being in multiple places at once. Records varied on what sort of owl he was, with one of his most vocal critics beginning to wonder if every owl they met was actually just this other owl in disguise. Poor fellow. Anywho.

By the time the Owl of Stokris made his greatest discovery, sometime near the end of the age of wisdom, he had already uncovered the fountain of youth, seen the edge of the universe, spoken to some strange hairless monkeys at length about their ideas on something called agriculture, and located what modern scholars refer to as the missing link. He once flew around the world in 70 days. It was said that he could hear a mouse squeak clear from the other side of Pangea. He was simply the most interesting owl in the world. But all of these feats and discoveries utterly paled in comparison to the startling truth he uncovered somewhere on the surface of the planet...

He, the great owl called... um... well you know the one, uncovered the secret of the universe. In his last scratchings he wrote this.

"I have uncovered the secret of our universe. The answer to our most burning questions. I can scarcely describe the satisfaction it has brought to know the real reason for our search. Why we, all of Owlkind, have long spent such time in search of answers. Why we are cursed to ponder the depths of the universe, never knowing, ever seeking. I have seen all and understood all, and in that moment I fear I sparked our doom. We owls have long considered ourselves very wise, for we learn much in our short time here on... the world that we live in. We retain that information and use it alongside our formidable skills to great advantage over the meek prey of the world. Our superiority is absolute. Or is it? What I have learned cannot be unlearned. The fate of all Owlkind was sealed long ago when we first asked the question, 'who are we?' In our arrogance we sought answers. We sought knowledge for the sake of hoarding it. For the sake of satisfying our raw avian curiosity. Oh what folly. I am afraid we have flown too far. Listened too keenly. Seen too much. In our arrogance we sought to master the arts of quantum physics, and we have doomed ourselves. For the owl who phased himself into each of us was afflicted not with a stroke of genius, as he suspected, but with hubris unchecked. And... and with something deeper. Biological in nature. I am afraid, my fellows of the grand Parliament, I am that owl who entangled all of our selves. I sought to expand my search further and wider than one owl could do alone. And now sadly, I am every owl. And I have sealed our fate. For I have just diagnosed my original self with a form of dementia. I am afraid that we all now have Owlzheimers."

"I remember, therefore I was, I am sure of it. But... I cannot remember much anymore. I cannot remember my own name. As we cannot remember who we are, we are not who we were any longer. Thus, I am Owlistocres no more."

In one voice the grand Parliament called out the defining question of all Owlkind.

"WHO?"

It is a question that still haunts them, each and every owl. Even the one I saw at Taco Bell the other night, staring down at me with wide eyes and demanding of me the answer to its deepest and most desperate question.

"Who am I?"

To be fair, I probably imagined the last two words due to the state of severe sleep deprivation that I was in, courtesy of the problems created by our own human-variety folly. But hey, everyone's got issues, right?