Snippets . . . . Snippet It Real Good
Write me a story. A young woman was walking in my direction on a commercial street. She was in camouflage clothes, and although she did not have the most piercings I had ever seen, it was right up there. She had spiky hair that was bright yellow and deep black. She seemed to be talking to herself. Just as we were about to pass, she turned around. And then I heard from her a beautiful, mournful rendition of “I Don’t Get Around Much Any More.”
The young woman said to the much older man, “Have an excellent day.” He replied, “I will settle for a pretty good day.” She smiled.
A Topsy Turvey World. I worked with some old leftists at the beginning of my career. They actually spent time debating about Trotsky. Back then, the right had a fear that these lefties were going to sell us out to Russia. Later I worked with some postmodern liberals, for whom all truth was relative, and the right castigated them. Now we have a concern that the right wants us to be Russia’s lapdog. Now the right has become postmodern where facts have become subjective. Go figure.
If the Gospels are divinely inspired, why did He inspire four different people who wrote four different accounts inconsistent with each other? Wouldn’t it have been better for one comprehensive narration so that those without faith would have less to pick at?
On the subway I heard one 30ish man say to another, “He wrote 60 novels. And 100 short stories.” But I did not hear who that author was. The numbers are not quite right, but in the ballpark for Philip K. Dick. Who else could it have been?
I had a heart incident a decade ago. In the days right before I landed in the emergency room, the strain of ordinary exertion must have shown, for, for the first time ever and to my dismay, a young woman offered me her seat on the subway. Luckily she was not that good looking.
“La-La-Land” was not my favorite film of the year, but it must have been good. It almost made Los Angeles attractive and romantic. And some people even walked.
“No wonder people into health foods were so flaming skinny, she thought. Everything they ingested immediately obliterated any desire to ingest more.” Elizabeth George, Deception on his Mind.
What do you think of people (not always little old ladies) who push pets in strollers?
A while back, the daughter went to the opera with Molly. It was their first time. Earlier that year they had gone to the ballet. When asked about the opera, the daughter said, “Molly liked the ballet better. I like TV better.”
While crossing the street at a busy intersection, I heard a young man say to a young woman, “Would you rather have your best friend murdered, or . . . .” And it faded away.
The sign said: “Psychic—10 AM to 2 PM. Walk-ins Welcome.” Of course. She knows they are coming.