I am constrained by conventional language in trying to write.
Any idea, inspired by what I've seen or done or read or a conversation I've had, becomes a cascade of parallel inter-referencing verbal and nonverbal thoughts. Often several of these lead to linear things I'd like to say or write out, but the feedback continues and I often find I've gone through an inner turn of phrase that may never recur. Sometimes I can bring them back. And sometimes I sit to write them down and find the perfect words aren't there anymore.
Thinking is like an abstracted drug.
Yeah, it's just another blogosphere-clogging post from a would-be writer on the topic of writer's block. Mostly. Sort of.
20080718
thoughtovthemoment
No task is beneath anyone. Subordination is beneath everyone.
Labels:
musings
20080709
noexitphoning
The Salt Lake City Weekly this week is carrying a repeat of the No Exit comic "Conflicting Constituent Groups of the Republican Party." It may be a testament to my poor googling skills that I can't find a link to the comic online (though the artist's website has a temporary sampler of the Democratic Party version.) Still, if you happen to be somewhere that carries CW, it's worth a glance. At least I find it pretty on-the-spot. "When I get rich, I'll want a tax cut."
At least a small measure of the difference between my playing with Libertarian economics and playing with Liberal economics (irrespective of the fact that in a pure ubercapitalist health care system, I probably died some time last year) comes of considering "just whose side am I on?" And the comic in part addresses that.
At least a small measure of the difference between my playing with Libertarian economics and playing with Liberal economics (irrespective of the fact that in a pure ubercapitalist health care system, I probably died some time last year) comes of considering "just whose side am I on?" And the comic in part addresses that.
20080705
burstinginair
Aerial fireworks are very pretty. But there's a part of their beauty I found myself dwelling on in particular at Friday's show. After the carefully correographed explosion, the fading sparks drift on the air currents, curling around one another. The neat pattern loses its sphere or ring or whatever shape it was designed to have, and a new ephemeral pattern falls out and fades. It's the part of the burst that's not controlled, and I found it oddly fascinating.
Labels:
musings
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