Dé Céadaoin, Feabhra 28, 2007

I had a real good idea

It came and left me while I was half asleep in bed. This happens from time to time. Some writers deal with this issue by keeping a notebook next to the bed, or even taking one wherever they went. This has always seemed a bit prissy to me, so I'm not going to do that.

But it was a great idea, right up there with my best stuff. It was funny yet profound. It was one of my bullseye-prescient observations of the delusions and hypocrises of Midwestern society. It was great satire, it was masterful satire. Nay, it was beyond satire. It would have changed your life. It would have been the first step to a new enlightenment. All of the old Gods and myths would have been finally and totally defeated by my atomic wit.

But I don't keep a notebook by my bed, because I pee standing up

Connor Oberst probably keeps a notebook next to his bed. He might have an idea similar to mine and right it down. But the "man" has no idea how to express himself.
I do.

I don't keep a notebook next to my bed because I never got dragged to the shrink for giving myself paper cuts on the wrists

so I can only give you a little scrap of my idea. Or maybe it's a scrap of another idea I had at some other time.

"How are we supposed to judge what makes a great man? There are so many walks of life, some so different from each other that they might as well be performed by seperate species. Few people know enough about other people's walks to have the slightest idea about whether they're doing a good job or not. So what then, is greatness? What is the objective standard that applies to us all? I tell you there is none."

Now, I know that was good, probably good enough to put in a book of quotes next to Oscar Wilde and Cicero, but I can see how some hard-to-please people might find it a little trite.

Oh, but if I could only show you the context, you would see that this quote is part of something far from trite, something, perfect. Your tears would flow for days. You would learn to vomit at the sight of all of your old status symbols.

But I don't keep a notebook next to my bed, because I only pretend to like Ani DeFranco.

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