Monday, December 07, 2009

roxy music on, typin words, getting the schwan calibrated, focusing on matter versus anti-matter, does one necessarily deserve more credence than the other? Mysteries that only doctor doom could likely solve, along with batman’s input on certain artifacts which may be found in the back alleys of thought patterns you could wander through with such a pontification.

I wish I could say I’ve sat staring at screens with brain wracking intensity searching for the words, but that would be a filthy lie. I’ve stared, yes, but at balderdash and klackenstein, dust feathers wandering amok in a field of salty grains. Nay, if I wander the avenues of district cortex for more than a nonce, verbs meet nouns, adjectives & prepositions get stretched and thrown, and the newspaper circulation of neurons versus electrons from medulla to fingers to box of light magically happens, but the effort, that for which we strive for the E, has been mercurial at best and Bermuda triangle at worst.

There is something that my grandfather used to say, in a situation that belied further analysis, and it fails to reach me now, but it summed up the situation at present nicely. He’d have drunk long from his glass of bourbon and water and ice and thought savagely about the times and the landscape and made a mountain of good will and connections and otherwise boulevards and parkways, molehills would have become anthills would have become the city driving by to patch the potholes of your life.