A Few More Things I Cannot Make Sense Of
Why can’t I begin a sentence with a conjunction and end it with a preposition? And who’s to say what good grammar is really made of?
What is it about the metric system that explodes our American minds so? We love counting by tens from childhood, but, ask for a measurement, and we cling to a measuring system erratic enough to include feet (with no measurable relationship to those things we encase in shoes or sandals and walk on) and yards, bushels and pecks, furlongs and fathoms.
When people make a habit of expressions like “Just sayin’” or “That’s what I’m sayin’” or even “That’s what I’m talking about,” what exactly are they talking about?
If wishing doesn’t make it so, what do I do with the wish that comes true anyway?
How many times can one prepare to let go of something or someone, only to have the separation delayed time after time?
If I re-pin a poster or “share” a meme, am I violating some unknown copyright or is all this public property? From the constant repetition of some of the same hackneyed “inspirational” lists for a better life, I’d guess the latter.
And if I do that re-pinning and posting, what does that say about my originality?
Can anyone be original anymore, anyway? How would we know?
Can a mug shot or driver’s license be considered a kind of selfie? One does choose to do something to cause such photographs to be taken, even if someone else is pushing the button.
What would happen if we all stopped listening to the media and the hype and the lies from the pols, the activists, the Internet, the radio, the TV, the birdbrain Twitter, etc. for a few days? At the risk of blowing a copyright for real, I submit the following:
P.S., yes I know I should be sharing another chapter of The C.P.F. this week, but please bear with me. Editing is no fun, especially when the original plot doesn’t really work.