Sometimes a person gets sick and tired of reading and writing the same old acceptable tripe. Sometimes a person wants to break out and set something down that is really true. Sometimes a person tries.

I mean undeniably true—so undeniably true that even when people are denying it, by mind or mouth, or laughing it to scorn they know it's true, and you and your brother know it's true, and the ubiquitous Greek chorus always hovering in the background knows it's true.
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Who me? My aim?

Yes, you, you monkey, your aim?

Hey—awright, but show a little respect.

I'm waiting. Ain't that respect enough?

No comment. My aim as a writer is... to rearrange the words in the dictionary into some more meaningful order. How's that?


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A Bloggy Day or A Blog of a Blog

Today, being a red-letter day in a long march of days of dubious gray, I declared to my web master that I would produce a "blog."  Now how could I, who had seen and felt the effect of words—good and bad—upon outlook, inlook, doing and deeds, undertake an activity that carries such a grotesque, self-mocking label? Whoever came up with this word, a word that has come to encompass a worldspin of words, has, perhaps unwittingly, condemned whatever effort flying this flag to foolishness, triviality or downright, out and out imbecility. Too harsh, you say? Look at it a moment. Sound it to yourself. Whisper it in your wife's ear. Blogblogblogblogblog... Words determine things. They open up vistas. They flap down a coffin lid. They inspire. They exasperate. They create. They destroy. Damn, but they are powerful beasts!

When we accept a word and agree to labor under its shadow we are acquiescing to life lived within its limits. So take this revolting blob of a word—an overstuffed suitcase of a word—a word blended of the bl of blindness, blab, blather, blabber, blip, blase, blah and the og of fog, sog, bog, log, cog, smog. Ye gads! who in their right mind would consent to such a word? Who would allow the force of such a blubbering, slobbering, drooling, gargling word to dominate the content of their creative expression? Not I !!! Words master us if we are oblivious of their power; if we use them as robots would. When we awaken to their potential power we can use them to good purpose. Master or be mastered! Plunge your mug into a bog or lift your countenance to the sky. Whatever else you may say the activity will be a distinctly different experience with a distinctly different outcome.

No, no, I will not blog today.

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