The Art of Beckoning

I could never work as an editor because to be a good one you need to know how to anticipate the mistakes whereas I always want to make them as a writer.

It was the spark that set the light and not the light per se that is the sole provider of illumination. We would all be still in the dark if there hadn’t been men and women of independent spirit that rose up, sometimes shook their fists, and made such a ruckus until someone took notice. All the other gentle souls simply observe. And if they are happy doing so, well, all is well that end’s well. But if they are not. Then there will be history, literature, dance, art, medicine, politics, a humanity because that’s what the individual spirits, the freethinkers, have blessed us with.

People pay far too much attention to the flesh, the organs, but not enough time to the most important organ of all: the mind. If we could only tap its potential instead of zapping it with vapid TV, visually explicit movies, music that’s redux and not progressive, books that beg for more passion for language and less passionate language, sports that strap us all to the opiate teat, and governments that are only good at wiping the drivel from our bootlicker lips.

“The absurd, hysterical impersonal clock-kingdom legislation or daily commercial round.” Ted Hughes

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