Clearly Malfunctioning in Many Important Regards

Q: What happens when you start a new high-concept blog in order to jump-start your flagging creative motor?
A: You get bitch-slapped by your muse for your hubris. Unfortunately, a bitch-slap from a muse does not actually spark any creativity, like you might think. Shouldn't a muse-slap get the juices juicing? And what do muses do otherwise to make you start your creative engine? Homer's all "sing in me" which sounds a little fruity and also a little automatic-writing-y. All I know is that sometimes I feel "it," that urge to dance my fingers over the keyboard in search of the most tortured metaphors I can find this side of Abu Ghraib. What? That didn't even parse, Thalia, you lyre-strumming cum-dumpster.
     Now this is not the clichéd antipost about writer's (blogger's?) block. I hate that shit as much as posts about the weather. It's just by way of an apology to readers and to Claude. I'm gonna try to be better.
     Enrique Iglesias got married to Anna Kournikova a couple of weeks ago. I have nothing to say about that, really, except to point out that "iglesia" means "church." Most of my observations and epiphanies these days are lingual, which means I am in serious danger of becoming a crank. (I hear you in the back, with your incredulous "becoming...?!?", and you can shut it the hell up.) The latest one made me so excited I had to call Claude to tell her, and it was this: "Supervisor" and "Overseer" are the same word. I got shivers.
[4:07pm est]
I like how you talking about this all like it's something new or unique. I think my linguistic love is less related to any actual etymological breakthrough than my simple slight autism, which is why on the drive home last week I repeated the phrase "paramilitary death squad" for a good ten minutes, in a variety of timbres, tones, and speeds, after hearing it in passing on 90.7FM, KPFK, aka Pacifica, aka "the hippie radio station." First, it seemed really amazing that a phrase as beautiful and fluid as "paramilitary death squad" could be used for such an unlovely concept. Second, the sheer variety of gorgeous syllabic melody inherent in it was just like a really large and lovely salad, where you bite and--ooh! keep getting surprised by--oh my! is that radichio? Cranberry? Caper? I hate capers, so not really. And finally, though I listen to KPFK for some news, the total delusion of much of their content is totally deterrent. Like, don't interlude the news show with a reggae song whose chorus is "Let's stop payin' taxes, mon." Or go ahead, do that, but shoot me in the face first, 'kay? Thanks.
[10:31am pst]
trouble started by Universal Donor
December 15, 2004 • 3:52 PM est • #

Comments from Foolish Amateurs:

lingual epiphanies. linguistic cunning! a cunninglinguist! oh, so funny.
# posted by Anonymous Anonymous : 8:26 AM est  

# posted by Blogger claude le monde : 1:29 PM est  

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