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Apr 15, 2003 08:09

As I entered the library a couple of minutes ago, a stranger crept up alongside me and whispered, "Boy, that was weird, huh?"

I nodded in polite agreement, thinking to myself that however odd this mystery event may have been to the fellow, it probably wasn't as odd as the decidedly peculiar way in which he chose to convey its oddity to me - that is, to walk up to a perfect stranger and whisper his appraisal of a circumstance (or set of circumstances) of which his intended audience is entirely ignorant without so much as bothering to describe the circumstance itself, or at the very least why he has chosen to draw such a dramatic conclusion from the aforementioned open-ended variable.

But maybe he's got the right idea. Why should expression have any bounds with respect to audience? Why should he have to explain anything to me, if his goal is not the relay of a given data of experience, but rather a brute expression of his being in all its glorious honesty? My stranger has given me a whole new freedom, a whole new set of expressive possibilities - in fact, I'm so enthused that in a few minutes I will walk up to a stranger and whisper, "I can't believe it!"
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