A Comment On Comments
OK, OK. I know when to quit. I thought it would be fun to have some reader participation. A map to show where my friends and family and readers were... but noooo.
People call, e-mail and wait to see me to comment on my little ramblings rather than put them here in context. I was hoping you would use the comment section as a forum to promote discussion and in effect more ideas for me. I was wrong. I've responded to many of the few comments I've received, and there it stopped.
"What we've got here is failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach, so you get what we had here last week... ...I don't like it any better than you..."
So, from now on I'm going to feed you whatever I want.
Sex, guns, drugs, violence, booze, you name it.
I got two comments on my ancient writings, so in the next couple of days I will post two of my early journal pages.
There will be some reoccuring themes starting in the next few weeks.
After that... well, I just don't know.
I do know you can't force people to do anything they don't want to... not if you're not face to face anyway.
posted by K-nine @ 18:51
3 Voices Raised
3 Comments:
Oh, and thanks to those who did participate in the map thing. I've changed my will and you're the only ones in it.
So does this mean you're just going to "leave me" again?
Get it, will, leave me? I made a funny, or at least a silly.
Tee Hee
Lighten up Ebenezer.
Has it really come to the point that you must beg people to argue with you? Hell, I'll do it for kicks any time you're ready.
Alas, you are painfully accurate on at least one point though. You can't make anyone do much of anything if they don't think it's their idea. Been beating my head against that one for, oh, close to 20 years at least now.
Anyway, chill out. I sent Heather from Nashville your way. Does that mean I get the Jeep? Not that I want you going anywhere anytime soon, but I do love that Jeep.............and how about Griz? Don't want the microwave, still smells like Chinese food......oh heck, what am I thinking? I'm still waiting on my birthday present.......from 1993........
You know, really you could look at it this way, people would rather argue with you in person/via phone so they can really let you have it. It's just not polite to say some things in front of the entire world. Besides, the low blows aren't nearly so much fun when you can't hear the resultant "umphhhh".
Another thought- I really enjoy reading William Faulkner's writings, but it never has been a burning desire of mine to write to him and critique his offerings......oh, wait, he's dead, um, just scratch that one.
Rest assured my dear K., you are still loved - and maligned- by just as many people all over the world as ever. Now take a Haldol and chill. Any time you need a good bashing just let me know. I'm here for you. Always have been, always will be. As long as I have breath, and probably long past then too, I will always volunteer to beat you up in a verbal sparring match. You know how much I enjoy target practice.
You just have to come up with a better defense than "'Cause I said so dang it!" That one's getting old.
Love ya', mean it. Quit your barking.
JRB
Not just argue, but agree, add points I forgot, correct my spelling (Ma is want to do that)and just generally stroke my ego.
The map thing was supposed to be fun. You have to remember that a lot of my friends, family and readers have no knowledge of each other. I am damn proud of the my friends and family and readers, and extremely proud of the fact that I am the common thread that connects them. I was not so much angry as dissapointed, I am not vain enough to think that I am the only one in this group of extrordinary people with something to say. Look how articulate you get when you give me grief.
On the bright side, I wouldn't be trying some new things otherwise. One of the new upcoming re-occuring themes starts day after tomorrow. (Tomorrow is my day off from work and I'm going to do research.
As far as my will goes, I sold Pete the microwave, I plan on outliving Grizwold, and you'ld just wreck the Jeep.
woof-bark-grrrr.
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