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Be More Kempt, Less Sheveled–A Surreal Rant about Language

August 25, 2013

2861673443_1e9bc3bd97  We pick up language like a benevolent habit and then drop it like lukewarm potatoes. The habit of language impresses itself on our world where we make believe that it comes from. Language is a subordinate and in solidarity with all the subs of the world (ships not sandwiches), its sonar is most precise when plumbing the depths of power, the warp if not the woof of authority’s bark… if not its bite, and even if not, then its bite just the same. Because, let’s face it, the bite’s all that matters.

This, deliberately, broadly referenced thing (to a degree) or stuff (sort of) that comes before this point, this point that ought to exist right >>>> HERE <<<<< (if only wordpress had an insert meaning function)—- can be elaborated through a series of very important questions:

(to wit) Why don’t we ever nip things in the flower?

I had a day mare in which the dust congealed rather than settled in corners that were spic but not quite span. I nipped that in the flower and the results were extraordinary—though not worth describing, except as an on-hand remark or in an equally on-color joke. By the wayside, that color is (always you’ll find) red. And where, other than experience or in language, will you find that to be so, you might ask whether or not you may or can or should? Where else, but in the nooks of the mind—the nooks, mind you not the crannies. For the last goddamned time, NOT THE CRANNIES! The nook is the thing (after bites) the cranny is mere shadowplay, a magic act done with smoke merely (not mirror-ly). Hear that? Did you hear that. Come here that. Here. Come here. No? Fine. Leave then.

I’ve been B-Okay without you and everything has been dory, real dory sans honké without you. Who needs it? When I get all warm and bothered it’s all bees, you see, and fewer and fewer birds. It’s the warming they say, the global warming that does it. But I’m not going to get all plussed about it. I won’t be chalant. I’m going to remain kempt. You can’t be too kempt these days.

  1. Brieuse Bernhard Piers-Gûdmönd permalink

    Brilliant! I’ve been tempting to think of something downroariously musing to say in sponse…

  2. I am seriously whelmed by this post.

  3. This post gruntled me. 🙂

  4. I feel the distinct inclination to snap repeatedly.

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