As much as I like to rant about bleeding bears in caves, I think I much prefer that to watching someone walk around with a permanently dour expression on their face. Victims of the sour grapes diet. You can almost see the factory-issue dark cloud over their heads. Rather than inspiring sympathy, the typical effect is that everyone around them becomes annoyed because a) they never voice just what it is that has their knickers twisted; or b) they're shuffling around like zombies because of some COMPLETELY BULLSHIT reason. Hell, call me when you got a terminal disease or something.
I've developed an aversion to telephone conversations. Yes I have to talk to clients from time to time, but that's cool...necessary evil. But to just sit on the phone on some prattle incessantly shit? Eh...no. Shit, shoot me an email and I'll be more than happy to update you on my current life status, but phone conversations take up way too much of the attention pie chart. I've got a thousand other things to do.
Besides, stay on the phone too long and you begin to notice very ugly things about people. They're either - ninnies, completely self-involved, full of unresolved anger, insanely insecure, exceedingly boring, homophobic, or undercover religious fanatics. Seriously. I almost feel as if I'm being forced to make these judgments. I'd rather just resist the inevitable disabusing of my good notions and speak to them if I see them online. Surely every household has a computer/internet connection by now.
There are exceptions to the rule though...I know a few damn good conversationalists, but they're just as busy/leery of the phone as I am! In the meantime, there's no point in attempting to interact at length with people I barely feel I can relate to anymore.
Sounds kind of harsh, but...when's the last time you met a hermit who wasn't crotchety?
Whilst pursuing a bit of edu. in technical communication, I learned that the most important rule is - it's all about the audience. Keeping in mind that the average American reads at an eighth grade level. Never you mind that typically grade levels go to 12. Essentially you're being asked to verbally pander to underachievers.
You tend to notice this spill over into the world of creative writing as well; isn't that right Eric Jerome Dickey and Zane? Examine the people that bill and coo over any literary efforts from these two and you have automatic entries to your list of those to avoid at all costs. In my universe, great works spring from feeling alone; not just technique. You think Kerouac and Burroughs gave a damn about shooting to the top of the NY Times Bestseller list?
Right.
Personally these days it's all about pleasing and overstanding mySelf first; then if someone gets some odd thrill from it, the more the merrier. I'm down for the group energy. But most importantly, I need to let the stream flow where it may; need to be enamoured by my own damn cleverness,whether or not anyone agrees. I need to write just for the sake of playing with words...that's where the art lies.
Even though sometimes...sometimes words are become superfluous.
Posted by Lisa at November 10, 2007 09:36 PM