February 17th, 2005
Open invitation to join the writey write filter. I can't promise brilliance with every post, but I can promise as little navel-gazing as possible. I'm sure my navel is no more fascinating than anybody else's.
Anyway. This here's a little parable about the Spatchel and the Fig Tree which really was a futon but it's a Fig Tree nonetheless.
See, once upon a time there was this Spatchel and maybe you know him. He was a smart Spatchel and used his smarts for the forces of good, not evil, even when he was surrounded by schmoes, which was most of the time anyway. While aware of this obvious advantage, he tried not to think about it too much, but always in the back of his mind there was this one overriding philosophy, used in good times and bad:
1. I am smarter than most of those schmoes out there.
Then one day someone said "Hey, I noticed you're smarter than most of those schmoes out there, why not come along and do some cool stuff with us?" And the Spatchel agreed, because if there was one thing he liked doing, it was cool stuff. Soon it became clear that they did stuff differently than how the Spatchel did stuff, and that the way the Spatchel had been doing things, the way he had taught himself, might not be the best way to go about it, and if he continued doing things his old way, he would not succeed. And this was true even though it'd been the way he'd been doing these things all along. Thus came the hard lesson to learn: When the Spatchel realized that he would have more success doing things a different way, he wisely agreed to put aside the old and accept learning the new. But then the Doubt visited, a dark Doubt, a nagging Doubt, a mean old Doubt, and smacked him upside the head. The Doubt, in the space of a few hours, changed his whole philosophy to a new mantra:
2. I Don't Know Shit.
(For those of you with small children, or perhaps you're a small child yourself, just pretend those letters spell S-Q-U-A-T. Then find some other website to visit.)
That's all he heard from the Doubt, repeated over and over and over again. And boy did it not feel good. Racked with the constant yammerings of the Doubt, the Spatchel decided that he better do something about it and do it quick. So he did the only thing he could do: he took a nap. Naps are always good to clear the head.
And wouldn't you know it, after the Spatchel had napped a bit, he awoke, and when he awoke he had a new thought. He realized he was smart enough to realize what the Doubt told him, and he was wise enough to accept it and go from there, and out of that thought was forged a brand-new philosophy:
3. I Don't Know Shit. But I'm still smarter than most of those schmoes out there.
And lo did the Spatchel say those words and he was Enlightened. Then he went back to sleep with a big smile on his face and had a perfectly lovely dream involving swamp boat chases and a diamond as big as the Ritz.
PS I have it on good authority most of this story is entirely true.
writey write filter? Gimme. I like writey writing. At least mostly.
|Date:||February 17th, 2005 06:12 am (UTC)|| |
me four, or five, or whatever!
Being one of those schmoes whom you are smarter than, I would like to be included in that filter for the purpose of furthering my smartification.
|Date:||February 17th, 2005 06:48 am (UTC)|| |
I would like to read the writey writing also.
|Date:||February 17th, 2005 06:52 am (UTC)|| |
Is there non-writey writing? I suppose there's always incise-into-clay-tablety writing or something.
Anyhow, sure bring on the writey writeness.
|Date:||February 17th, 2005 08:07 am (UTC)|| |
|Date:||February 17th, 2005 10:07 am (UTC)|| |
could i be filtered thusly
*also requests adding to filter*
|Date:||February 17th, 2005 11:50 am (UTC)|| |
I will take your writey writings, and raise you, um, a cheap-ass watch that I bought for 10 bucks in Prague.
Ha ha! I have a better hand than you! No, of course you don't get to see it, I'm the dealer, shut up. I get to keep my cheap-ass watch which I actually kinda like, and be included in the writingly written writings filter.
|Date:||February 17th, 2005 12:20 pm (UTC)|| |
Moi aussi, please.