| | Dearest friends, I have nothing whatever to say to you. That, however, has never stopped me from writing things before, so at this point I have decided not to let it stop me from writing now. With any luck, this will turn into a deep, philosophical essay on human nature, theology, politics, or something of that nature. With even more luck, it won’t be serious at all, but merely an amusing waste of your time. At worst, you’ll find this boring, perverse, insulting, and will hate me forever and always. But that is the risk I must take. First off, let me discuss snow, as at my part of the world snow is certainly what we are getting. Snow seems to be a delicate and beautiful symbol that the world could get along just fine without baseball. The whiteness of the snow can be compared with the whiteness of a baseball. This would seem to put both of them on a equal footing of purity, except that a baseball inherently has another color on it: red. Red symbolizes the violence and hatred that comes with sports. People are killed and maimed and such. Pain abounds. Snow, however, is normally white, although at time yellow spots may be found, symbolizing....... gold. A heart of gold. Yes, definitely a heart of gold. Or it could be viewed as a symbol of relief. Now some may say that baseball really isn’t that violent. Fine. Be like that. you may disagree with me all you like, but even if I am wrong that doesn’t make you any less of a nincompoop. I like the word ‘nincompoop.’ I learned it from Calvin & Hobbes. It has such a musical ring to it. A indescribable beauty, such that only seems to be found in good dreams. ‘Nincompoop’ says the mouth, and the mind is transported to other realms, other worlds, and you meet people you have never met before, like the one-eyed barber who reads steamy romances and is constantly cutting his toenails while listening education tapes that teach profanities in French and Japanese. For those of you who hated the last paragraph, it’s your fault for reading it. It’s fun looking through my old stories. I used to write such interesting titles, such as "Billy-Bob and the Badguy Bikers" and "Buddy Head." It such a shame I lost that. I’m not near as random now as I was then. *ahem.* To mention something that is actually normal, my finals start next week. How exciting. And how terribly boring that sentence, indeed, that whole thought was! Here I am, talking about my finals, while no doubt you already have some inkling that finals are next week, or were this week, or are two weeks from now, or something! I mean, you could have guessed! I could have posted a question asking, "when do my finals end?" and you likely could have guess sometimes soon. Now, I would like to mention an interesting conversation I had yesterday with a friend. Well, actually, that friend was me, so yes, I was having a conversation with myself. And now, I think I should confess that I don’t actually recall having a conversation with myself yesterday. I was simply attempting to bridge this post onto another topic. (For those of you who have not read any of my other posts, you know that the whole point of these posts is length and not content.) In the process of trying to bridge this post I ended up lying to you. Now, some of you may say that it was terribly wrong of me to lie to all of my friends like that just to try and make this post longer. It’s almost as if the length of this post is actually more important to me than my friends. Well, I always was anti-social. Eat peanut butter sandwiches, unless you’re allergic to peanut butter. Cheerio. Sincerely, Jared |
