The one that is currently wafting into earshot from the proximal open window. Part of me wishes that I could tell you, while a more rational part of me knows that by not doing so I am acting ethically and mercifully, and universally so. I wish that I weren't listening to it, but I can't bring myself to turn music on, or to close the window, or to kill myself. The conversation I am hearing is like a video of a mid-air collision at an airshow, the kind of video CNN puts next to the airshow disaster story. The kind of video that depicts at least one person losing their life, but doing so anonymously in front of people who never expected to pay admission to witness a fiery death. One can't help but press "play," and I can't help but listen. I was trying to read this seemingly-interesting article when It started, but it would appear that all hope of doing so has evaporated.
I could try to explain myself and this situation more thoroughly, doing so in a sidelong, roundabout, and excessively vague manner (a manner to which I am no stranger) but doing so would only serve to muddle information as opposed to providing it. It would also force me to deal with the information I have received in a direct, head-on matter in order to re-encode it into a form suitable for public consumption. I will simply say that This is Terrible and that I am Sorry.
Soon: drawings of robots, information about typewriters, and possibly a chapter of a book.
Friday, September 14, 2007
I Can't Tell you About That Conversation
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