on frequent simplification

During the course of my writing, I often work myself into a lather while exploring the apparent evils of this particular group or while expounding upon the virtues of one idea or the other. This, dear reader, is a dangerous trend. This, my friend, is something I shall endeavor to do less of, in future. The writer who over-simplifies issues of any type nearly always proves to be a holier-than-thou, fly-in-my-soup cocksucker with no more of an idea how to solve the situations he sees as problems than the smart and talented motherfuckers who – due to position, wealth, or access – actually can; my ideas and notions are, to judge by my readership statistics, old, tired, worn, full of redundant or faulty reasoning, and flat out lame; my frequent use of personal opinions violates the fundamental rules contained in The Elements of Style, Strunk and White's ultimate and indispensable writer's handbook. (I am tempted, at times, as I sit here struggling for syntax in this cold but sunny room, to increase the level of fire and brimstone and really start head-hunting for easy pickings, unless I am doing that already, in which case I am not surprised that few people spend time to read the fruits of my labor, which are as close to beating dead horses as one can get without showering afterward.)

Perhaps it is out of laziness, perhaps it is due to my inability to see the Big Picture, but, mostly, I find that when I write on these sites I stick to simplification; they make for quick and juicy arguments, for high-fructose vituperations that so closely resemble candy-floss as to make a body's sweet tooth twinge. It is likely that I need to step away from these blogs for a spell, to take a week off in honor of the first fall frost in order to give my brains' writing centers a break after working them continuously since last December. (Upon review, it appears as if I have been posting six days a week for the past ten months, now, a streak I dare not break for fear of shaking the foundations of my fledgling sanity.)

I don't think I nor any other simpleton writing today could avoid using simplification for too long, since writing in specifics would be akin to trying to condense all of mankind's knowledge and knowing into a Complete Theory of the Entire Universe, a task for which only a few living people are equipped with the necessary patience, genius, and understanding. (I am not one of these people.) To cut down on frequent simplification seems a good place to start if I hope to improve the quality of my writing's content, however, let alone if I want to inject a shred of rational analysis or positive thinking into my daily word-smithing. And so, I say, begone, ye foul generalization! Out with you, simplified thinking! Welcome in, old man Compassion; make yourself at home on the couch next to lady Moderation; stay a while, oh humble hubris, in this whorphan's cluttered and sad excuse for a functional mind. Oh, what great fun it is to be alive. Mahalo.

© mentiri factorem fecit (場黑麥)