Rejected submissions for breakfast?…..

>Ffolkes,

Eyes wide open, I begin to type, gathering speed with each stroke. The machine warms to my touch, and begins to help, anticipating my every letter, until I am flying across the keyboard. Words keep magically appearing on the screen, until, at last, my mind reaches a point where ideas clash, and crash, burning, falling out of the figurative sky that stretches across one chamber of my brain, and I stop….. Having run completely out of words, or concepts, I once more gaze longingly at the screen, and realize I’ve only typed one short paragraph, and shit, what am I going to do now, I can’t even do the James Joyce thing, even my own head is conspiring against me, what will I do now that all is lost?…..Whew! That was almost painful…. and not really very Joyce-like, was it? Having never read much of his work, I can’t say for sure, but, I think stream of consciousness style may not be my cup of tea. I used to be pretty adept at verbal streaming, but it’s been ages since we ( “we” being me, Tommy C, Mark R., and Perry) used to drive folks out of coffee shops, by loudly conversing in it, until people would get weirded out, and leave….. Of course, it was nonsensical jabberwock-style free-association talking, not exactly stream of consciousness, but, to me, there is little difference, as both are almost impenetrable, defying all attempts at understanding…

What also defies understanding is the intro section process of these Pearls….. I’m still searching for a way to segue into the rest of the Pearl that will be good for everyday usage, and not kill everyone with boredom, including myself…. Today’s intro is almost at a point where I will soon be giving serious consideration to suicide…. it’s that bad. Well, to me it is….. and I’m the one who has to put it together. How am I going to justify posting this crap, if it makes my stomach queasy? I could conceivably start an epidemic, of literary nausea, for which there is only one cure, which involves crucifixion of the author, followed by the burning of his carcass, while chanting apologetic curses to the universe….

Well, not really, but, I can see it happening, if I continue this abuse much longer…. I’ve managed to wander through four paragraphs, which, as you know, is the minimum requirement; thankfully, this means I can stop doing this, and get on to something a bit more entertaining, for you, if not for me. One of these days, I swear, I’m going to come up with the perfect opening, and y’all won’t be any happier than me when I do…. This is getting really old, not to mention moldy….. Oh well, who am I kidding? It’s all good, and, what’s more, it’s done….. Shall we Pearl?…..
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RASCAL, n.  A fool considered under another aspect. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

Hmm…. An interesting assumption is being made here, one that makes me think that this may just be talking about ME….. which, it would seem, makes me a rascal….. I don’t mind…. In fact, I kind of like the idea of being considered such; it’s better than being a fool, that’s for sure. I know, I’ve been one…. a fool, that is, and usually, it’s for love…. Nothing new in that, is there? We all become fools for love, at one point in our life, or another. Me, I’ve been there, and done that, a good five times…. Each time, I ended up being the fool, as I always believed what the woman told me, and tried to act accordingly…. Since, it turns out, they were all lying, when they said they were in love with me, it makes me the fool, for continuing to believe, even after a number of times being burned…..

It’s okay, really….. Sometimes it hurts, but I just think about the fact that it wasn’t MY doing, let out a big sigh, and keep on looking for an honest woman, one who won’t lie to me about this very basic subject, i.e., love…. See, I don’t believe that love dies, or changes, or can be lost; not if it is really love. If one can put it aside, or make decisions to hurt the loved one, then it really isn’t love at all, in my book. The person who can hurt someone they love, isn’t really in love, for to me, love means that the happiness of that other person is equally, if not more, important to me, than my own…. This means that I will do anything in my power to keep that person happy, and, sorry, leaving them doesn’t fit that requirement…..

“I never really thought of myself as depressed, so much as I am paralyzed with hope.” Maria Bamford

Ah well, life goes on, and sometimes, one walks their path alone for part of that time. I still keep myself open to relationships, for I believe in the old adage, that one may approach life as a turtle, or as a tiger. A turtle, when confronted with the more dangerous, possibly hurtful moments we all face, will pull in his head and limbs, and hide until the danger is past. He survives, but doesn’t get to see much of the world. A tiger, on the other hand, faces danger without fear, and gets to see all he wishes to see, thought it may bring some pain along with the joy of living… a worthwhile trade, to be sure.

So, I’ll keep on keepin’ on, hoping to find someone who would like to join me in my search for all the good things life can offer, and will want to stay with me for the duration. If I cannot find anyone, well, that’s okay, too, because I’m having a grand time, and have no intention of stopping, for any reason at all….. Hmm…. where am I going with this? Damned if I can remember what I was trying to say with all this…. I mean, other than the basic, “I’d rather be seen as a rascal than a fool.”…. That much is obvious….

In looking back over this pearl, in fact, I find that it has little or no purpose I can see, other than blathering…. I’m sorry, but we just can’t have that…. So, I’ll finish this section with a few explicitly obscure, but cogent, pearls, which should make the point I was trying to get to, and lost track of…. I hope….

“The uttered part of a man’s life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.” — Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) — Sir Walter Scott, London and Westminster Review, 1838

I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light,
All calm, as it was bright;

And round beneath it,
Time in hours, days, years,
Driv’n by the spheres
Like a vast shadow mov’d; in which the world
And all her train were hurl’d.

— Henry Vaughan — The World

“Kindness is the beginning of cruelty.” — Muad’dib

“Life is the sum of all your choices.” — Albert Camus

Curse on all laws but those which love has made!
Love, free as air at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — Eloisa to Abelard, Line 74

Okay, so, well, never mind…. I couldn’t find the right pearls, but, these will do…. Just don’t bother trying to find the underlying rationale…. there isn’t any….   😆
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I was correct in my assumption that it would be difficult to write a new poem every day, at least, for me…. The process of creating a poem isn’t quite that simple for me, and isn’t amenable to persuasion, or confining regulations as to when it should, or will, come out to play…. Mostly, it leaks out in a bloody stream, when it feels ready. I have no clue as to when that might be, and I’m afraid to push hard on it, lest the urge disappear altogether, as it did for many years….

Any who, all that is to explain that today’s poetry section is another half ‘n half…. the Haiku is fresh, written just last night…. the poem is from last October….  As every day this month, this is for the April National Poetry Writing Month Challenge, with the updates to be found here:  http://www.napowrimo.net/ (I still don’t know if I’m doing this right, but, oh well….)

> Haiku IV

Time and circumstance;

all of us who are alive,
Penance, Made Simple

a celebration can begin,
willing, to shine from within.

brushing reason aside,
alert to danger, eyes wide.

stand with the just;
living in honor, the only must.

is its own prize and reward.
well worth working toward.

our lessons are never free of cost.
only when alone, are we lost.

__________________________________

I know, I’m supposed to rant here…. but, I don’t have enough angst built up to do so…. Everything has been going pretty well, all things considered, and, physically, I’ve been feeling pretty normal, all in all, so it’s hard to not count my blessings, and start in on something I see as wrong-headed….. This is not to say there aren’t rantable events transpiring out there in the real world, it’s merely my own lack of outrage that keeps me from picking on someone who deserves it….

Still, I have one more section to complete, and hopefully can get it done prior to having to take a break to deal with the house cleaners, who are coming this morning to swab me out…. I finally got tired of my bachelor mess, so I’m paying to have someone do a number on it for me… It’s said that it is a good thing to be clean…. I can’t say myself, having been a guy all my life, but, I’m willing to give it a try…. Any who, since all of that is TMI, or at best, unnecessary info, we’ll get on with the pearl…. c’mon, let’s dive…..

“I was reading the dictionary.  I thought it was a poem about everything.” — Steven Wright

“The best may slip, and the most cautious fall; He’s more than mortal that ne’er err’d at all.” — Pomfret

“Cowardice” and “self-respect” have largely disappeared from public discourse. In their place we are offered “self-esteem” as the bellwether of success and a proxy for dignity. “Self-respect” implies that one recognizes standards, and judges oneself worthy by the degree to which one lives up to them. “Self-esteem” simply means that one feels good about oneself. “Dignity” used to refer to the self-mastery and fortitude with which a person conducted himself in the face of life’s vicissitudes and the boorish behavior of others. Now, judging by campus speech codes, dignity requires that we never encounter a discouraging word and that others be coerced into acting respectfully, evidently on the assumption that we are powerless to prevent our degradation if exposed to the demeaning behavior of others. These are signposts proclaiming the insubstantiality of our character, proclaiming the hollowness of our souls.” — Jeffrey R. Snyder, Fall 1993 _The Public Interest

“What is a number that a man may know it: and what is a man that he may know a number?” — Warren McColloch (20th Century American Neurophysiologist,  — Poet, and Prophet)

“Evil habits soil a fine dress more than mud; good manners, by their deeds, easily set off a lowly garb.” — Plautus

“Reality is just a convenient measure of complexity.” — Alvy Ray Smith

“Hmmmm… Er… Is it *supposed* to smoke like that?” — Smart Bee

Nope, I don’t think it is….. but, it’s done, which makes it perfectly suited to our purposes…. Besides, I like the point it finally came up with, don’t you?…..
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Sometimes, I don’t know how I do it…. but, then, I never know why I do it, so I suppose that’s not out of place….. Maybe it ain’t Ibsen, but, it’s Art…. or, what passes for same around here….. Before I can put my foot any further down my throat, I’ll take my leave now, and go see what the Big Blue Room has to offer me today…..  Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

When I works, I works hard.
When I sits, I sits loose.
When I thinks, I falls asleep.

Which is Why….

Sometimes I sits and thinks,
and sometimes
I just sits.

gigoid

dozer3

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6 thoughts on “Rejected submissions for breakfast?…..

  1. I have no frigging idea why WordPress’s editor decided to fuss with my font today…. I did everything the same as always, I swear…. Any who, just hit control- + (control-plus) three or four times, and the font will get bigger…. Sorry ’bout that, but, IT’S NOT MY FAULT. Really, it’s not….
    😳 Hope you enjoy it anyway…. 😀

    • Doug…. I’ve had this happen three or four times now, and can’t nail down the cause… I write the original material in a PIM program (Windows based, called EPIM), in the Notes tab, the program’s text editing function, using Comic Sans font, set at size 11… I then copy that, and paste into my email browser, into the body of an email, using Mozilla Thunderbird, latest version. Once it is there, I proof it, then set the font size one click up, so it is a bit bigger, as it displays smaller in the email, but still in the Comic font… I then copy that email text, and paste into the text editor section of a New Post on WordPress… Most days, I just hit the Publish button, and the editor automatically changes the font to the Arial it uses as default, which I like, as it is easier to read than the Comic Sans, but, today, and the other three or four times, it leaves it in the small Comic Sans font…. and I can’t figure out why…. Any ideas?…. Thanks for anything you can tell me….

  2. Reblogged this on gigoid and commented:

    Ffolkes,

    I noticed I haven’t posted anything fresh yet this year, which may or may not be ominous, as in, an omen of some sort. But, I’m taking a break from engaging in speculative predictive utterances, so, I’ll make no judgment on that. To sublimate the now relatively powerful urge to spew, which I’ve mostly dumped on the real world of late, here is a Pearl from 2013, which originally appeared with some rather strange font changes from what I wrote. Today, I went into the HTML to try to fix it, & did a half decent job, only managing to screw up the poem, which I’ll re-post another time, as the rest came out much better than the first one. It’ll definitely do for today’s purpose, which is solely to make me feel less guilty for not writing. That has been accomplished, so, I’ll get on with my daily walkabout, & see y’all tomorrow, with a fresh Pearl…. Well, as fresh as they get these days, anyway. Until then, stay strange, & be well….

    gigoid, the dubious

    😎

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