If you know me, you know how much I love learning stuff. I would probably be a full-time-for-life student if I could afford it.

A dear friend of mine hooked me onto Zite, a personalized web-article aggregate, and I am addicted. I certainly don’t read everything —who has the time— and I mostly read the headlines, first paragraph then move on.

But it has taught me that, relative to the possible knowledge of the world, I am dumb enough to be considered ignorant.

Now, I am intelli-vain enough that if someone were to call me ignorant to my face I would have a difficult time not executing Monkey Steals the Peach, if you know what I mean (and if you don’t, click here). I consider myself relatively knowledgeable, at least knowledgeable enough to know when to shut up at a cocktail party. And with today’s American attitudes I feel that sets me apart from your average Kardashianite.

None-the-less, Zite makes me feel utterly stupid. There is so much I simply do not know, so much I want to know, and no time to merge those two.

This morning I read an article on the brain science involved in understanding how to write compelling narrative. Then there was a brief history of the mystery of curry and what it really means. Then how about the bizarre mosaic lines in the desert of Gansu Sheng, China? They appeared in 2004, can be seen from space, and no one knows what they are. Or how about a simple change in Arabic typeface as a way to promote literacy in the Middle East?

And that’s just the stuff I don’t know about in a ten minute reading jag over coffee.

Perhaps ignorance is bliss. The old cliché, “the more you know, the more you know you don’t know,” is true. And lately, that knowledge has been mocking me, belittling me.

Sometimes I think it would be awesome to spend a week in a monastery with a stack of books. It’s the prayer and gruel that would get old.

I guess I should be happy just getting to know myself better, which is certainly something having children does for you. Self-reflection is a kind of knowledge, and I have that in almost debilitating volume. And I guess that’s more important than knowing the history of curry anyway. It just doesn’t seem as exciting.