What the Hell?!
"I have no problem with the president's handling of Iraq," said Donna Baker, a 56-year-old Republican from Robinson Creek, Ky. "I haven't heard any plan better."
Is this the new method of rationalizing whether or not there's a problem with something? Whether or not one has "heard anything better"??? Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't most solutions begin with determining that there is a problem before deciding on a possible plan or solution? Does this mean that when a solution is still yet to be determined that a given problem cannot even be legitimately recognized?!! As in, "I have no problem with the current death rates of cancer. 'Cause I haven't heard of any better plan to cure it." What the Hell? Have folks like this ever even heard the cry, "There's gotta be a better way"? I mean does it make any sense at all to respond with "Yeah, but until we know what that way is, how can we even say that?" Don't worry, I'll answer for you. No, of course not! Jeez-o-pete, it does not make any sense at all to respond with that. Note: said statement was never, "There's gotta be a better way, but until there is I don't see what the problem is." Crimony!
What the Hell?! What the Hell?! What the Hell?!
I'm just tired now. I'll talk about my awesome wireless headset later.
Okay, I have a feeling today's post isn't going to be political at all. The funny thing is, I really don't consider myself a "political person." Even though the only things I've actually posted on this regularly neglected blog have been political. But take a second look. How many times have I actually posted? What oxymoron did I actually use to characterize my blog four sentences ago? See, I'm one of those people who always thought it'd be a good idea to start a journal for myself. I always thought it. Time and time again. Because I never did it. Well, actually, that's not entirely true. Some may argue that it's entirely false. See, in reality I did start them. All the time. Over and over again. If I could somehow gather together all of the separate paper-bindings containing three consecutive dates with two emotionally rambling paragraphs underneath them, I could probably present the portrait of a schizophrenic. That, or a gallery of different people who each decided to write how their day was for half a page then apparently vanish from society. But I don't know where the hell any of those notebooks/writing tablets/diaries/napkins/grocery bags are today so I can't do any of that. The point is... um...
The point is, it's time to start a new paragraph. Having made that point, I'd also like to say that depending on where I am mentally (lucky to be anywhere) the day I try once again to start that journal (today) will dictate the flavor of that "journalistic" attempt. November 28th's attempt was clearly that of an aspiring political columnist for "The Onion". April 6, 2003's attempt? Perhaps that of a reminiscing reluctant prophet. But, none o' that today. Those people have vanished from society. They may come back, who knows? But the good news (for whom, I know not) is that if I ever decide to put together the schizophrenia gallery I won't have to search for the junk-mail envelope that's enscrawled with personality #47's "I am a sea-captain" entry. I'll simply come here. To "the wall talker". Talking to my own virtual wall. I don't care if you think it's a dumb name for a blog. I'm not the same person I was when I created it.
In the next entry, I think I'm gonna talk about the love of my wireless cel phone headset. But, who knows what I think?
Signing off for now,
Solomon
