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April 14, 2006
It doesn't take a flock to be dangerous

It's Friday. It's sunny. I'm in a good mood. I'm at lunch. I haven't read the news.

This? Is not a political post. Not even buried secretly at the very end. No current issues. Not topical. No headlines. No thoughts about problems and solutions. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I'm just typing.

I'm thinking blogging thoughts of the meta variety.

I have this blog where I'm hoping to sound more intelligent than I am.* (I don't know why. When I started it, I thought it might be fun. So little of what I do requires any gray matter. Now, lo these many years later, I'm not finding that maintaining even a slight fašade gets any easier.) Sometimes I get tired of the struggle to sound intelligent, thoughtful, and concerned. I get fed up with being reasonable and open-minded. I'm exhausted by the effort it takes to restrain my inner wingnut.

I have another blog, where I'm trying not to sound embittered and suicidal (humor is so tricky in prose) while discussing my personal and professional life. Sometimes I just post silly entries. Long, rambling posts about imaginary worlds where I live under a bridge in a climate of perpetual sunshine and 70-degree temperatures. Exhaustive lists of the many and interesting things I'd fill my time with if I were independently wealthy and not locked into an office every day. Wistful fantasies about the ideal work environment. Bitter screeds about the idiocy of my co-workers, employer, or fellow commuters. All the things that wouldn't be apropriate here. **

And just recently I added one where I'm supposed to be interesting and maybe even entertaining because it's actually being read by personal friends and people who know where I live and who can hunt me down and beat me if I'm tedious and self-indulgent. ***

It's a strain.

I don't suppose you'd be interested in an off-the-wall and highly improbable theory about how the decline of western civilization is the direct responsibility of the televised soap opera?

I figured not.

I have a job where I have to keep track of all my hours and turn them in every day (I'm having lunch now, which is the only time I blog while at work), so I really can't be messing around with these things during the day. If I try to update this one in the evening, that doesn't leave much time for the others. If I update all three, that doesn't leave much time for a life.

As soon as I run out of words, I'm going to stop talking in one, two, or all three of them.

The problem with the world o'political blog is that so much of it (I refer only to the bits I associate with, of course) is inhabited by grown-ups. I find grown-ups a bit wearing to hang out with for too long.

I never quite got the hang of maturity.

If I look out my office window and see the window-washer's rope dangling and twitching on the other side of the glass, grown-ups are not interested in hearing the resulting story that pops into my brain about how if you could get outside the window and climb the rope, you'd find that the roof of this building is the gateway to another reality and that said twitching is being caused by a struggle between a giant dumnorf and a flock of kweedits, each of whom want to slide down the rope, one to eat us all up and the other to bring universal enlightenment to the entire planet. And you have fifteen seconds to figure out which is which and who you're going to support and what do you do?****

But you can't post a story like that in a Serious Blog. Not even if what you really wanted to say was that it's really cool to have an actual office again, especially one with a really good view of downtown Denver and the mountains. And nice, clean windows!

28 minutes exactly. Lunch break over.


* Okay, so I'm thinking it's probably pretty obvious I started making stuff up right about here. At least, I hope it is. Especially in conjunction with this post.

** That one is fun. I find that being inane, unlike being "intelligent" or "interesting," being "inane" comes very easily to me. You've heard of random word association? I think of those posts as random thought disassociation. Stream of half-consciousness. (With extra commas thrown in so you can make your own punctuation.)

*** Oddly, even though I maintain three blogs, I do have friends. My friends are very indulgent around my many failings. They even tolerate the way I never shut up about myself.

**** For those uncertain, the answer is obvious. What do you do? You get a better grip on reality.

Everyone knows dumnorfs don't slide.

They do bounce. And occasionally they sing, but only the "Jingle, Jangle" song, which was gay and cowboy long before "Brokeback" was a whisper in the author's brain. (Although, to be fair, they think "spurs" are a kind of coffeepot. Dumnorfs are passionately fond of coffee, which they use to rinse off their gowels each week.)

Kweedits can slide, using their tails, but they prefer not to since they're prone to getting tangled in their jewelry. They don't sing, although one was once suspected of humming in an elevator and instantly put to death.

At least one of these species are vegetarians, although that doesn't mean there what it means here.

Everyone in that reality is universally terrified by blimps. Also by all things orange, which they consider an inexcusably, criminally ugly color that should never have been invented. (And they'd like to speak to someone in charge about it.)

There is no creature in that reality that would not sell its grandmother for a ball of yarn and a spark plug. If you throw in a big, pink eraser, they'll sacrifice their first-born to you and worship you as a god.

"Universal enlightenment" doesn't mean what you think it does, either.

Does your brain every worry you?

Posted by AnneZook at 01:18 PM


Does your brain every worry you?

Every minute of every day of my life. (Nights are for worrying about other things.)

Posted by: Ahistoricality at April 14, 2006 02:21 PM

Dumnorfs and Kweedits, Oh My!

I kind of wish you did have those other blogs; I'd love to see what you'd do in a more literary mode. This was fun.

Posted by: Jonathan Dresner at April 14, 2006 02:24 PM

I love this post, and I can't even put my finger on why. Maybe it's the 9+ hour work day (and counting)...

Posted by: Elayne Riggs at April 14, 2006 04:00 PM

I hope you three understand that I'm a little worried to discover you're all crazier than I am.

But...wait! Ahistoricality made no comment on the quality of the post. Elayne is clearly exhausted from work.

Okay, Jonathan, what's your excuse? :-)

I could write you a novel? As it happens, I have a first line or two going spare at the moment.

The sun tumbled up into the sky in an excess of early-morning enthusiasm.

Do anything for you?

How about this one:

His name was Mercutio because his mother loved Shakespeare and his father loved his mother.

Posted by: Anne at April 14, 2006 10:25 PM

I have a soft spot for absurdism, at least in small doses and when there's the implication of a more complicated and interesting story in the background. Chalk it up to a youth spent rereading the annotated Lewis Carroll, the works of Henry Kuttner and Harlan Ellison, Terry Pratchett....

I also believe that there are many of us who have the ability to write interesting and readable novels, the sorts that aren't being written much these days.... I'd love to spend some time working on artistic projects outside of my expertise, and I love the idea that you -- who I respect a great deal -- might be doing so.

Also, I very much understand the idea of having multiple blogs for multiple outlets....

Posted by: Jonathan Dresner at April 15, 2006 07:51 PM