The Logic Machine’s Wrench
Originally published at morosophos. You can comment here or there.
Diplomacy is a subtle art that doesn’t seem to get much use anymore where it ought to. A smaller problem, and the problem whose scale seems far greater to me-being that it’s the one in my face, is that it gets too much attention where it oughtn’t. Diplomacy and treacherous façades are the butchers of communication, which is probably one of the more important things, as far as things go.
The meat of it is, the more diplomacy and so-called “sucking it up” you do, the more gets cut-off by the butcher. And while it’s an interesting twist not to be the one on the end cut, it’s not much fun to discover that cutting has been afoot even unto another party.
While I go on being the bad guy, things get bloody. I really didn’t want to, nor do I currently have the intention to pursue the part of the villain. I make a really ignorant villain, you know; it’s not exactly like I was informed on any level that my general persona was doing what I didn’t even know it had the potency to do. I suppose I’m sorry for that.
Sorry for the cryptic nature of all that. My writing must read like how Salvador Dali’s paintings look. On to something lighter…
Yesterday was Father’s Day. I painted a large terracotta pot for my dad’s gardening. The overall reaction was quite pleasing: he said that if I went out and purchased smaller pots and painted them, I had the potential to sell them. If I can get my stuff together tomorrow I can possibly update this with a few photographs of my work. Matt found Dad a copy of the “Creepshow” episodes-a television show on HBO during the early 80’s apparently. There is one particular episode, the first one, that I find particularly amusing for the day. This old lady beats her father over the head with a marble ashtray and takes his money; the father later rises from the grave and strangles her, all the while moaning and groaning that he wants his Father’s Day cake. Has anyone else begun to catch onto the differences in connotation between the benevolent Mother’s Day and evidently the rising-from-the-grave-and-strangling-your-daughter-osity of Father’s Day?
As of this moment, I’m entering into the second week of my summer gym with two more weeks to go, this one included. Driver Education classes are also happening at last, though the instructor is less than desireable, to say the least. He’s almost middle-aged and unmarried, which doesn’t make it any less wrong of him to flirt with the girls less than half his age. The fact that he’s a monotone with a seemingly permanent 10 o’clock shadow doesn’t help either. I think I can pull through, provided my support group hasn’t abandoned me by then.
There is a good possibility that I may go to Comfest this weekend; anyone interested in accompanying me? People to ensure that I don’t break anything and/or corrupt the general community will be greatly apreciated by the greater good, I’m sure.