Monday, January 31, 2011

STRING OF WORDS #6

It is time to write something- something satisfying to me if to no one else. What is it-the need to express oneself? perhaps it is the delight, surely confined to humans, of stringing words together- lovely words, naughty words ,meaningless words, strings of unconnected word like for example- lust,------------------------------------------ blackmail ,permeable,unforgettable,everlastng.serendipity. What fun to roll these lovely words off our tongues, savouring the sound of vowels and strong consonants. Do other animals have this joy? I think not though we don't know. Today my friend and I watched two male ducks- drakes I think they are called, quacking to each other, quite a sustained conversation though the sounds never varied, just quake quack, quack. Perhaps our dull sense of hearing did not catch the subtle nuances of duck language, but I really think humans are unique in the infinite variety of their sounds of speech. Anyway my friend decided the drakes were gay-two handsome beautiful gay drakes conversing together as they lazily paddled through the stream. I’ve just been listening to a Leonard Cohen concert recorded on Skye in the seventies and there is a human being who loves words-stringing words, word pictures, loving words ,sensuous words. Words fall off his tongue in a beautiful variety of sounds and meanings filling our lives with endless sensations of joy and sorrow and the infinite variety of Cohen craziness. How lucky we are to have this wonderful vehicle- the vehicle of words and how lucky we are to have a Leonard Cohen to string them together for us. Thank you for listening to me--- and so I bid you goodnight dear readers.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

H--- S---!#5

h---- s--- H--- s---! Well what do you know, I've just discovered something sublime, an invention so wonderful it is up there with the invention of the wheel or perhaps the invention of certain feminine products! It is a little feature in the Word Pad ,a little symbol that you click on and it  corrects your spelling and grammar mistakes! I click on this symbol and suddenly my paragraph is covered with squiggly red lines just like my essays in grade four on which the teacher has scrawled in  red ink lines, a big "D" and "PUNCTUATION!!" PLEASE” all over them. What happened recently is that a friend came over while I was typing, leaned over my shoulder and gently pointed the mouse to the top line of the WordPad and clicked on the funny little symbols and cute little pictures. Like magic all these symbols and cute little pictures turned into my ready and willing unpaid servants who exist just to do my bidding. All I have to do is click on them and they correct my spelling, correct my grammar and best of all even correct the spacing between my words. There even is a dictionary at my disposal! But best of all, I have my own personal dictionary in which I can put in my own words … this means I can put in words that I like such as “malleollicious which I can use  without it being rejected. The keyboard bows down to a superior force-that’s me- and humbly prints it despite it’s misgivings! Now I have always known I was born in an enlightened age(in spite of the hourly T.V.news)and am a living proof of it. Am I not with my new hip replacement tripping lightly to and fro from my apartment to the liquor store, the library, the delelicatessan and the video store in search of my basic needs? Don’t I know that when the lights dim in my lovely green eyes, I can have a five minute cataract surgery and then will be able to see the world with the fresh eyes of a new born babe? Can I not get in touch with any of my beloveds anytime anywhere even in the lady’s dress department change room at the “Bay” in the  down town mall with my brand new HI-tech. cell phone? Yes! Yes! And Yes! But THIS, dear reader, this, as my little Yorkshire friend Jess says ,“Dis caps D’lot!”

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS#4

,      Tonight I really am subject less so I will talk about streams of consciousness. The first thing  I have to say is that the spelling of consciousness is difficult and easily tripped up ,thereby stopping  my stream of consciousness to flow smoothly and begin to resemble a bumpy country ride in a leafy lane redolent with earthy smells as is  expected in that setting. The next thing I have to mention is the difficulty in punctuating a stream of consciousness. Does one go on happily spilling out words tumbling them out as a babbling brook unstoppable until they reach the ocean? Or does one stop them with commas and periods to say nothing of semi colons -those enigmatic dot comas- cluttering up the stream and clogging the flow thereby making  it stagnant? Or heaven forbid even "paragraph" them? What trauma would one inflict on this stream then, twisting the flow unto itself, inverting it, thereby causing it to induce peristalsis-like movements as it backs up? Would it not be better to have a well planned concise well thought out sentence, with consecutive thoughts carefully and neatly punctuated and paragraphed? Ah, but then dear reader, what joy you will miss. What delightful ramblings among words and thoughts as disjointed as a ramble through an untamed wood with who knows what delectable objects to be seen around the corner? No let us have the unbridled stream of consciousness, immersing ourselves in glorious words thoughts and images until we are sated.                                           

Monday, January 17, 2011

THE PURPOSE OF MY BLOGG#3

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So today I am going to talk to you dear readers about the purpose of my blogg. and if there ever was a blogg with no purpose this is it .A few years ago I purchased my first computer and started to do things with it like emailing for instance to my friends. Now I used to be a prodigious  letter writer in illigible longhand.which I inflicted on my friends but now I had a new way of communicating.What an ecrutiating thing it was! It took hours to print an email.I would type a sentence and then my irasible elusive cursor that you have already met would jump in and wipe it half out or worse,scramble it beyond comprehension.My emails got shorter and shorter, mere blurps  of”hw re u am fine”kind. In fact I think I’m sure I.  became the forerunner of texting. At this time, my darling practicle daughter emailed me a link to download a typing manual which promptly disappeared  by way Of my clicking on  the dismissive delete button (I don’t know how to download), Then another friend who I admire suggested I take a typing course.I had a flashback to grade ten when I enrolled in atyping course and spent long boring hours trying to type with the correct method (I failed the course but did manage to perfect a mean male profile complete with mustache using the #7 key).I could,of course,have spent hours copying long oieces out of newspapers. But why should I do that when I have my own vivid imagination?The oroblem with that is Ineed to write to someone. Of course I could always revert back to my grade ten course and type over and over that thing about the grey fox jumping over or under the fence.But how tedious is that?That is not me! Oh no not me.I want to plunk down my glas of whiskey on the desk,thrust my fingers impatiently through my hair,roll up my shirtsleeves,loosen my tie,hunch over my trusty keyboard,flex my fingers and withtwo fingers hunt and peck my way furiously through my clever article in time to meet the”deadline”Not for me the prissy starched white blouse,the  modest slim pencil skirt-I wish-,the mocha hued stockings and feet planted maidenly in their Cubanheeled shoeswith my glasses perched on my pert little nose!No not me! I want to”toil and riol or is rail and flail” pounding on my trusty ole typewriter . That is what the romantic aura of typing means to me,a long romantic tradition of great words strung together,no grey foxes in my version. That is why I started my Laurie’s essays,and my blogg so I can type furiously on right into Who knows?-THE GREAT QUINTESSENTIAL CANADIAN NOVEL?You my dear readers are vital to my quest to typing perfection as I can’t write to a vacuum and I am very grateful to you. And now I simply most close before this very long and tedius blogg turns into the great Canadian novel-yikes- so I bid you goodnight.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

ESSAY#2 THE ELUSIVE CURSOR

Where oh where has my cursor gone? Has it gone into the ewieghiet ?Or  has this elusive gismo a mischievous life of its own? Does it have imp-like impulses to confuse me?  Does it feel a necessity to jump all over the page in a childish game of hide and seek? Or is its delight to "bamboozle me?  a lovely word I first encountered in  Toronto – a truly old fashioned Ontario word dredged up from the long ago rural townships at a gossipy oh so  truly proper and tasteful tea party? Or does it have a mysterious rite of passage?” .If a sequel  of keys are not pressed in a specific manner I will hide and pout until this ignorant typist learns the correct protocol“ I do not know .I only know it really frustrates me and ,I admit ,truly humbles me and I bow down in defeat to this great opponent and so I bow out for tonight.


Tuesday, January 11, 2011

ESSAY#1 LEARNING HOW TO TYPE

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 I am learning to type and find it very confusing and challenging.  The purpose of doing this is to eventually put down my thoughts and ideas , but at the rate I am going,  I must postpone my leaving this glorious planet for many years, maybe an eternity. But I ask you, are my thoughts and ideas vital to posterity? I think so. After all my thoughts and ideas are unique to me therefore irreplaceable! no one else has them and this is aftter all the crux of our individuality and why we all desire to make a maRK OR LEAVE SOMETHING BEHIND  when we are gone. Most of us realize this in our children,thus creating our own immortality. Some of us especially we artists have the audacity to  leave behind expressions of our creative talents in the optimistic hope they will  succeed us into the future thus giving us immortality that way.The resilience of the human spirit is always amazing and never more so than in the wishes of the artist wanting to be remembered through his/her creative endeavers. Having said all this, I do not claim to desire this for my < thoughts and ideas> as I have expressed today. However I am managing to almost  vanquish the unrullingness of this machine.