Poor grammar is easier than anything else, unless the habit has been drilled into the brain deeply. Now there’s a mixed metaphor slop-jar. We do not use slop-jars anymore. We can rejoice in that, that’s for sure! I remember a story my mom told me about one of her classmates having trouble articulating the two-word expression “Shot Put” one day to report an important shortage out on the playground, but she could not get the words out straight, and she said that had not been able to find the Shit Pot anywhere and she was getting worried, thus unhappily embarassing herself and everyone else in the messed up process. Sloppy performances, but it is better to say sloppy than use some more common and ordinary descriptor involving the contents of the slop jar. That would really be a shitty thing to do and a shitty way to describe things. Sloppy sound somewhat nice, even if it is sloppy. Then, of course, we had to go slop the hogs, and realize that one kind of slop is not the same as another kind.
Slop comes in more than one kind. Did you know that? Well, I did, and have for many, many years. Longer than some of our leaders have been leading us, I have known about the mulitple meanings of words and symbols. And, oddly enough, they still try to lie to us about what they want to do with our future.
But that is not the purpose of this writing. My writing is having less and less purpose as each day rolls past. And, to simply assemble the ideas (and the products and evidence, you might say) of the other presenters is more along the lines of what I wanted to do anyhow (help edit some on-line magazine or something) when this one, long-lost friend asked for my help, for something she was going to call TheNightLight.
Light’s out, as far as my involvement will ever be concerned, now. It is sad.
Here (presented two equally useful ways, unless you like one more than the other, so then they are not equal) is where light comes from nowadays, but that could change too. Episode 9:
Now it was never my intention to mention the name Lydia, as if I could see ahead of time what was in this episode when I had not even listened to all of the second, and none of the first yet. No way could I have known that they mentioned Lydia in this podcast, and almost nobody knows who Lydia is (to them, or differently to me) and so it was not planned on my part. It only looks like a conspiracy. This is where people sometimes wonder if God is involved.
I like it how they wonder. That is because they are full of fundamental doubt.
15:03 2/13/2007 Again, and now in memoriam (Diary-X died one year ago, impacting just a few bloggers), we will merely and “quietly” insert this at the tail of the topmost entry, to keep the date from advancing…
Leaving It All Respectfully (LIAR)™
Maybe somehow the connection between “liar” and “pumpkin eater” will dawn in the mind of anyone else. This guy knows where it came from, and what T-shirt I saw it on, and the copy of the picture I saved so I could remember the L person who wore it and posted the picture on the JK message board. I have above-normal memory activity (apparently, by comparisons made) and always have. Perhaps my greatest fear, based on real, multiple cases of my own losses, is that my memory will be gone before I am. Then I will be that old demented goat who does not know any of his own family, tries to shoot his own dog, and all that stuff that goes with ultra-senility.
My own father (now 84) plays the age card now, to point out that I should not expect him to remember something I told him yesterday and the last ten times we’ve had a squabble about him remembering it. So far, this is not the pattern of my behavior (insisting I’ve never heard something before) but it will come, someday in the approaching future. It cannot stop coming at us. The flow of time is constant, unstoppable, and from what we anticipate learning after we leave our mortal “coils” it is not really the one-dimensional stream that we now perceive as we live inside these containers of ours, the bodies we were born into and must manage and maintain while they keep changing, all life long.
So it happens that someone I was being very attentive with has now disappeared from the blogging scene, as far as I can tell. Actually, there exists one possiblity that is less favorable to me, and that would be that I (myself, this individual) have been specifically blocked, for reasons that I can easily imagine for myself to be mistakes caused by my own unclear way of expressing ideas and concepts. The photo editing and use of anyone’s face or portions without permissions is clearly presumptions (as in RUDE) and could be enough of a reason to write me off, and I agree.
But it feels like “judgment” has been passed, and so with that, I pass on without knowing how or why she suddenly was gone, and all the caring that we did would seem to have been for nothing. However, my memory is true, and she would not have chosen to stop being heard. Whatever it was, it happened at the time when something was needed to indicate approval or disapproval, and so it was provided, as if by Providence (that’s the name of one of our major hospital medical group empires in this neck of the wooded necks). Where or what I can do with memory after I am gone is anyone’s guess.