Not only is it the metonymic adage coined by English author Edward Bulwer-Lytton in 1839 for his play Richelieu, it's the throw-back to the Jeopardy mock from the geniuses at SNL: http://www.funnyjunk.com/movies/8806/ The best part of words, they can be weapons. They can cut deep. They can also heal, transform and comfort. The might in the written word is often overlooked by those with limited vernacular--though I occasionally speak the every man's poetry of curses so I can't judge. This blog in a sense is a way for me to exercise my favorite passion--writing. There will be personal accounts, prose, fiction and non, and anything else I feel like writing. Writing for the sake of keeping this seemingly lost art in the days of text-speak and the degeneration of our youth's ability for proper spelling and grammar. I hope there to be humor and seriousness alike. I can't hold myself to too much promise on the outcome; simply see where it evolves!
Thursday, March 22, 2012
dreaming...
I had one night of good dreams... last night was not it. I had a dream that I was at the funeral for Greg Senn--the kid they found in the lake in rapids. His coffin was cracked open and you could smell his decaying body. wtf.
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