Either I live in a reality where every occurrence is an extraordinary suspension of the rigid border of reality, flowing forth from the realms of the imaginary, or the meaning of the word ‘fantastic’ has become blunt. Similarly, I doubt that, however extremely convenient and ingratiating, say, modern technology or habitual events have become, they aren’t ‘awesome’, the hand of God didn’t slip as he precariously dodged a Boeing 747 and relinquish grip of his iPod.
I don’t bear any particularly regimented preference for grammar to exist locked in a concrete structure – it changes and phrases or words careen across territories of severity and impact towards dialectal instances of phatic nature. I admit I am guilty of uttering and confirming to the most become common, invisible, rapid and repetitive of such changes. However, I do have a few points of contention.
At the end of the day…
At the end of the day, many things happen: the temperature drops, light extinguishes and animals prowl the streets laced with tranquilizer waywardly seeking an enclosure to practice mating rituals. Mythical folklore depicts an illusory change in an electrical atmosphere at dusk or under the full moon. Fables may predict wolf metamorphism from human, the slips in temporal folds in the fabric of space at twilight but unfortunately not, as this seemingly finite phrase suggests, the sudden ability for resolution or stubbed end of a quibble or stance.
I turned to him…
Rather than grating on me, when someone retells a story or confrontation and prefixes every turn of dialogue with ‘I turned to him and said…’ I gently fade into a reverie where everyone pirouettes in a ballet sequence, prancing to a merry tune in an attempt to absolve tensions through interpretive dance. Perhaps they are interlocuting on adjacent merry-go-rounds and are seldom synchronised for face-to-face conversation.
Do you know what I mean?
Boring events occur in mundanely orientated people. Instead of the continental partitions, for example, notions of a consumerist ‘West’ and notions of a austere East we should, perhaps, divide inhabitants in the more definitive categorisation of the knowingly succinctly tacit and the frustratingly, (self-perceived) incomprehensible linguists. It would safe the trouble of distraught speakers from needing the constant reassurance that they are understood whilst describing their ultimately fathomable, dreary opinions and life experiences.
I am inconsolably ashamed at such a spurt of ranting disdain from an elephant tusk coloured turret.