Prediction

In the coming months — maybe weeks, perhaps even days! — the hyoid bone will be a major star in a slew of thriller novels that are now under development and/or are now under frantic rewrites to accommodate its unique and (tattle)tale-inspiring characteristics.

Images courtesy of Wikipedia

#itssuchagrandwackytimetobeanauthor
#orshouldthatbewhackytime

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Transformation of a G

Transformation of a G

He kicks off the covers and reveals the body of a mid-sized, thin but muscularly defined, mid-twenties, African-American male. He does some cat-like stretching and then concludes his ritual with some aggressive eye-rubbing underneath the pillow. While doing so, he seems to notice something strange about his hands.

He holds them over his head and looks up at them from under the pillow. He flips them over and inspects both sides of them as if he’s never seen them before. He sits up on his elbows and looks down at his bare upper torso. He sees the scars of five bullet holes and an assortment of tattoos littered across his brown abdomen. The most prominent tattoo, “Thug Life,” arches across the muscle-ripped gut…

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My Morning Typical

So, instead of using the time to write like I always wish I had upon realizing that the morning has passed, I usually spend my mornings reading stuff off the web. I start with the news but end up flitting around the data pond like a water bug. A highly caffeinated water bug.

So, yeah, coffee in hand I settle into “the chair,” aka “the command center,” and begin a dereliction of my writing duties with sleepy anticipation. First I fire up my NPR One app so that I can have the settling drone of my favorite morning voices lulling me with all the day’s tragedies in the background, then I fire up my MSN News app. It’s pure awesomeness. What I like best about it is that it’s always feeding New York Times articles and they don’t count against the ten free articles I am allowed monthly. Yes, alas, I am too cheap to pay for a NYT subscription, which, of course, further promotes quality journalism’s fast march to death.

Anyway…

From that point on, your guess is as good as mine as to where I will end up…

Huffington Post…
BBC…
Fox News…
Drudge Report…
RT…

Admittedly, mindless flitting can lead me to some highly dangerous and corrupting places.

Yeah…

So, because I can think of nothing better to post about right now (surely not because I assume you were wondering), here is a very quick cut of what a typical morning of mine looks like.

I have a tailored section in my MSN News app that pulls in everything “literature” related. Pretty handy. This morning it pulled in this article:

James Wood on why Fiction and Criticism Matter

Despite the philosophical questions, Wood’s book is not really a metaphysical inquiry so much as a reflection on inquiry in writing. “The Why? question is a refusal to accept death,” he argues, and storytelling itself is almost a satanic act of rebellion given that the “ability to see the whole of a life is godlike.” By playing God, he argues, “we also work against God, hurl down the script, refuse the terms of the drama, appalled by the meaninglessness and ephemerality of existence.”

Interesting article; though I’m not sure it answered the question why fiction and criticism matter. Probably missed it since I’m constantly flitting around the internet which is causing my brain to unlearn its ability to learn.

But from the article, I did discover this by Thomas De Quincy:

On the Knocking at the Gate in Macbeth

Here I pause for one moment, to exhort the reader never to pay any attention to his understanding, when it stands in opposition to any other faculty of his mind. The mere understanding, however useful and indispensable, is the meanest faculty in the human mind, and the most to be distrusted; and yet the great majority of people trust to nothing else, which may do for ordinary life, but not for philosophical purposes.

A rather awesome essay; as is evident, I’m certain, even from the selected quote above.

So, yeah, after reading the De Quincy essay, can you guess where I’m flitting off to next?

Yup, you got it…

Off I go for a reread of this, which should easily take me to the end of the morning…

And the beginning of my dereliction of writing regrets.


FEATURED IMAGE: “Water strider G remigis” by Bruce J. Marlin – Own Work http://www.cirrusimage.com/bugs_water_strider.htm. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons.

 
 

The Long War

I’m no dove – my twenty years in the navy will attest to that – but lately I’m feeling like a character in George Orwell’s 1984.

“No matter how hard he digs at his memory, Winston is uncertain whether a time existed when Oceania was not at war with someone.”

But still, I guess a Super Power’s gotta do what a Super Power’s gotta do…

A Peek

Look, take a peek in

between the clicks, the scrolls

to see what you’re missing

or not – the whole bloody

lot of it

Still it’s there, ignorance be damned

Ignorance be blissed