Streams of thought shouldn’t need a title but…. ok whatever.
Where to start… where to start?
I called this blog Empty Calories since according to wiki an empty calorie is defined as: “in casual dietary terminology, (they) are a measurement of the digestible energy present in high-energy foods with poor nutritional profiles..”. In other words, insignificant nutrient content.
I think that about sums up this blog sufficiently, perhaps even extraordinarily.
So, having said that, I may have a tendency at times to try and add something of possible informative value. Please, in the name of all that’s holy, don’t let me do that. Ever! Once it happens, I’ll just spend the time after that to live up to that earlier indiscretion and that my friends is a slippery slope that neither you or I want to happen. In the immortal words of the greatest lawman to ever live, Barney Fife, “let’s just nip in the bud!, Nip it in the bud, I say!”. Did I say greatest lawman? I meant, greatest philosopher of our time.
Ok, now that we’ve all agreed to live up to the first item spelled out in the Terms and Conditions (yes, there will be many more), let’s move on to more important drivel.
Why am I writing this blog? Because I’m bored and it’s good therapy. And much cheaper than professional therapy. There will probably be a lot of self deprecation in this blog. It’s been said that self deprecation is the highest form of self flattery. I just made that up of course. And it’s very profound, if I do say so myself. Oh how I flatter myself.
Currently I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Southeast Asia, listening to one of the many daily calls to prayer. I won’t write what my typical euphemism for those guys is since that would be “crazy”. (Too obvious?) That concludes the unfair and petty profiling segment of our show. It’s not how I roll usually. But still… how I wish they had sworn off loudspeakers instead of pork and alcohol. Ok, ok, THAT now concludes the unfair profiling segment.
So as you’ve guessed by now, this blog is mostly simple streams of thought. You’ll notice that I didn’t say stream of consciousness. That would imply that there was some form of consciousness behind it. I can emphatically deny that ever being the case. Most importantly, I want some finite (if barely measurable) thought to at least be intended. (So begins the deprecation.)
Let me pause here to say that I have in no small amount an almost lustful (yes redundant), writer envy. That’s similar to penis envy without the associated performance anxiety. Then again, maybe that’s there too. Speaking of that, I’d like to do a shout out to my college girlfriend. “I’d had a couple too many beers that night and we were parked in the back of a Walmart with regular security guard rounds and it was very distracting and well… I’m just saying, cut a guy a little slack will you?”. Then there was that time with that girl after my divorce when… ok, I’m getting off topic.
Anyway, as I was saying, I’ve got writer envy. I love to read. Mostly “no brain needed” mysteries, thrillers, intrigue, etc. Not exactly what you’d call “highfalutin” stuff. Especially if you’ve graduated high school and don’t tend to use sophomoric expressions like “highfalutin”. But even though I’m not on anyone’s “highly educated” list, nor “semi-educated list”, nor sadly even “educated potential list” for that matter, I have to say in my defense that I have had my highfalutin’ moments.
I’ve struggled through Dickens, R.L. Stevenson, Sinclair Lewis and even dabbled in Kafka, although I found the latter to be somewhat too Kafka-esque for my taste. BTW, I used that joke on two (most likely Lit majors) staff workers that I overheard arguing Kafka’s works at a theater once. Strangely, they didn’t get the joke. Then again, I’ve been told that my wit can sometimes be too cerebral and dry. I believe the phrase most often used is “boorish and painfully non-existent” but, tomato/potawto.
So back to my peni… I mean writer envy. It never fails to amaze me that one person can attach one word after another in an intelligent and gripping enough form that other intelligent people would find interesting enough to justify devoting a considerable amount of their time and money to. (And never ever put dangling prepositions at the end of a sentence. Sayeth my kind but ruthless 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Busher “Sorry Mrs. B”)
Therefore, since my budget doesn’t allow me to send all the writers a big fat thank you check and also because I’m a cheap ass bastard, I’ll just devote this blog (aka poorly written excuse for a tribute) to everyone who writes great books; the very same books that keep me sane during my frequent bouts of insomnia at 3 a.m. “Clink, Cheers!”
So, in the words of that great anonymous quote from someone standing before the Pearly Gates… “where to now St. Peter?”
Good question indeed Pete. Good question indeed.
This deceased horse to be flogged again soon.