They say that history repeats itself. But I don’t think that’s really true. Take the War of 1812 for instance. I don’t think we are ever going to have one of those again. Or like when Alexander the Great conquered Persia back in 331 B.C., I can assure you that he will never do that again. On account of him being dead and all.
Seriously, the more I consider it, the more convinced I am that “history repeats itself” is merely propaganda forwarded by historians to drum up business for themselves!
People often cite the importance of lowering expectations. For instance, if I have just begun a writing project that I hope will one day blossom into a full-fledged novel, it might be in my best interest to lower expectations – for instance, by telling family and friends that it will likely turn out to be a lengthy writing exercise, or if I’m lucky, a short story or a self-published chapbook, when all is said and done. That way, if I do fail, no one will hold it against me.
But I have decided to take a different tack. Instead of lowering expectations, I try to raise expectations impossibly high. Like, instead of letting people know that I am trying my hand at writing a novel, I instead proclaim – both boisterously and repeatedly – that I am working on a heptalogy that will sweep the nation and make me heir to the likes of J. K. Rowling and George R. R. Martin, despite the fact that I don’t even have any initials in my pen name. I even promise my family and friends that, once I clear the 50 million books sold globally benchmark, I will take them all out to dinner, to a really really nice restaurant.
Of course, they won’t likely believe that I will reach my stated goal. So essentially, this unreasonably-high-expectation approach accomplishes the same overall effect as lowering expectations: It takes the pressure off me, and allows me wiggle room if I do fail. But on the plus side, it is way more optimistic!
They say that time heels all wounds. But sometimes, you also really need sutures. Plus antibiotics. And an overnight hospital stay.
Let’s face it: Time isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
in preparation for my soon-to-be short-lived comedy career, I have crafted a handful of esoteric “walks into a bar” jokes:
an anthropomorphism walks into a bar. get it?
a solipsist walks into a bar. or perhaps it was merely an internal mental projection of some sort.
a premonition always had a feeling that it would walk into a bar.
a paraprosdokian walks into a bar and no one gets the joke.
a malapropism walks into a barn.
a simile walks into a bar like a metaphor checks into a hotel.
that’s all I got . . .
This sentence is a microcosm of a much larger sentence that you are not privy to.
Why do we always “face” obstacles? Why not “torso” obstacles, or “leg” or “arm” them instead?
I take that back. We really shouldn’t arm obstacles. Obstacles are bad enough already without the weapons.
If the shoe fits, wear it. That’s what they say.
But first, I want to know where this shoe came from? Is it brand new? Or does it belong to someone else? If so, do they have any communicable foot-borne diseases that I should be aware of? Also, why are they so willing to part with their own shoe? Is there something wrong with it? Or perhaps it was stolen without their consent? And if I were to wear it, wouldn’t that make me complicit in some kind of shoe-thievery activities?
Also, what kind of shoe are we talking about here? If it’s like, a four-inch heel, then sorry, I can no longer wear heels that high since developing plantar fasciitis. Or if it’s a Birkenstock or one of those weird orange clog-like things that Mario Batali wears, then fuck you, there is simply no way that I am putting crap like that on my foot!
And I can’t help but notice that it’s “if the shoe fits” – singular. So then, what about my other foot? Am I really supposed to walk around with only one shoe? The more that I think about it, this whole thing sounds like some kind of shoe-based pyramid scheme. Or perhaps I will be forced to sit through a day-long timeshare sales pitch before they actually give me the other shoe. No thank you!
The authorities really should investigate these shoe people. They are up to no good. I’m sure of it.
It’s so depressing how many problems there are in the world today: war, poverty, racism, sexism, a dysfunctional political system.
That’s why I wish I was a real estate agent. Because they are always so optimistic about everything! Like, if a real estate agent was selling society, with all its faults, they would probably describe it as a “fixer upper” that just needs a little handiwork, and some tender love and care, to become a beautiful home.
And that got me thinking: What if I were a bit more handy? And what if I put in the time and effort to patch things up here and there? Perhaps I could fix up society!
And then I could flip it. I’d probably make a pretty penny.
Nothing is quite so profound and fulfilling as seeing someone on social media “like” or “favorite” a horribly written movie review that decries the woeful acting and editing in a newly released film that itself was intended to be a critique of modern society.
They say that baseball is a game of adjustments. And it really is true. All you have to do is watch and you’ll see hitters frequently stepping out of the batter’s box in order to adjust their batting gloves. Or you’ll often see the catcher approach the pitcher’s mound so that together they can discuss making adjustments regarding their strategy for getting the batter out.
And the people who say they hate baseball because they think it’s too “boring” or that it “moves to slow” simply don’t realize that it is a game of adjustments. In a very very literal sense.