Friday, September 22, 2017

That's Pride...

I am so proud of this:



  She was alone; no one else in the car. She was young –no more than eighteen. Had been crying he could see – the mascara a purplish moat around her brown eyes. He noticed her hands were at the proverbial ten and two but they were shaking. He knew they were both up against a regret that would delineate so much, define almost everything hence and remind them that this brief fury is inexcusably tenuous.

Why not? Twas my birthday yesterday and I feel like a little auto-fellatio.

Sue me.


Friday, September 15, 2017

Without Your Demons Kicking Me

I found myself driving home later than usual last night and in an  effort to hear something different on the radio I tried my independent station from the University of Rhode Island, WRIU, hoping to catch jazz or perhaps bluegrass.

Alas, it was a "country" block. Usually I would turn the station as I'm not a fan.

But when you hear a voice, so beautifully lush with despair and authenticity, you don't turn the fucking channel.

I didn't.

When the song was over I sat in the car in darkness and went to itunes and gobbled it up.

BTW, I know this will be sold under a country label genre but, a la George Carlin, it's all blues music.



Carlin:

I'll tell you a little secret about the blues. It's not enough to know which notes to play, you have to know why they need to be played.

Suzanne Santo knows why they need to be played.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

This Has To Stop

The decisions we make today ring for eternity.

Your children and grandchildren and their offspring are counting on you to right this wrong.

Now.

Not next week, not when you get around to it, not after the game on Sunday. Now.

A man called a sports call-in show and uttered these words. It hurts my heart to tell you what he said.

But morality obliges me.

Here goes:

"Eric Dickerson was literally a verbal train wreck."

This has to stop.

Our behavior has consequences.

Think of the children.

Think of the future replete with inanity and suffering of the highest degree if we fail to act.

Call your congress persons, call your representatives, call your parents and tell them you love them and that you are doing what you can...

to stop people from misusing "literally".

Because you know it is a slippery slope, not a literal one of course, but certainly a metaphorical incline/decline to depravity and debauchery the likes of which we can't really fathom if we don't stand up for our grammar rights and yell it from the rooftops:

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!

I'm crying thinking about a literal verbal train wreck; I'm confused, I'm cold and I'm hungry and I'm suffering needlessly and feel forlorn and drowning in a sea of uncaring.

Why why why?

Why misuse literal?

Again what is a literal verbal train wreck?

This hurts so bad.

Why would he do this?

Will you help me? Will you help the cause, knowing the importance?

lit·er·al
ˈlidərəl,ˈlitrəl/
adjective
adjective: literal; adjective: literal-minded
1.

taking words in their usual or most basic sense without metaphor or allegory.


 


Otherwise, all is lost.

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