Blank

Blank: (n) a space left to be filled in a document.

Dictionary B

Do you remember the various types of tests?

There was the true or false.

Fifty-fifty chance.

Multiple choice.

I prayed there would be at least two ridiculous answers which could easily be eliminated.

Essay question.

For people like me, who felt I could bullshit my way through the procedure.

But then there was fill in the blank.

A sentence constructed with empty spaces, where it was dependent upon the student to provide legitimate knowledge.

Terrifying.

It was nearly impossible to guess.

There were no choices provided.

And of course, there was no room for verbosity to save the day. What was needed was an answer.

Actually, I wish they had offered more tests like that, though I’m sure I would have objected.

For real life is rarely true of false, and honestly, multiple choice is not readily available.

Sometimes much speaking can eradicate a problem, but usually it merely delays the verdict.

But there are always blanks to be filled–and they require real data grounded in truth instead of speculation or the feeling that we can argue with the teacher later, and at least get some credit. 

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Bland

Bland: (adj) mild or insipid.

Dictionary B

It’s a choice.

Although there are probably individuals who would strongly disagree, our journey in life is basically a decision on whether we want to pursue the absence of excitement or the presence of turmoil.

The minute we try to chase anything down, it comes with a price. Shall we name it “unpredictable?” Every dream, every wish, every pursuit arrives with a level of chance that is certainly frightening if you fear losing control.

On the other hand, subtracting things from your experience to guarantee purity, solemnity or caution leaves one unfulfilled.

Bland is when we decide that all the recommendations for making something spicier sound like they would lead to indigestion.

 

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Blameless

Blameless: (adj) innocent of wrongdoing.

Dictionary B

People were killed because they happened to be in a night club with a man who brought a gun and a nasty vendetta.

It doesn’t make sense.

Human beings who insist on the world being sensible end up either committing suicide or writing really bad poetry.

But we are not blameless.

I want to find my fault in the fiasco. I am weary of studying the scrambled brains of troubled little boys.

None of us are blameless.

All have sinned and fallen short of glorious possibilities.

An attempt to point fingers–especially prompted by political motivations–is what truly enrages our Creator.

So I went off yesterday morning and did what I think I do best. I shared a message of good cheer enjoined with personal responsiblity.

For after all, I will never change the world by focusing on its tribulation.

I am also useless if I quietly intone to others, “Be patient because God is in control.”

I find value in the human tribe when I bring a spirit of good cheer with a simple idea on how to make things just a little bit better.

I didn’t shoot one bullet at the Pulse Night Club in Orlando, Florida.

But legislation is useless. I must share a responsibility to make this world a little bit more pleasant by offering a courtly grace to the next brother or sister I encounter.

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Blame

Blame: (v) to assign responsibility for a fault or wrong.

I’m always looking for a true definition of maturity.Dictionary B

Having rejected the possibility of “old, experienced, educated or powerful,” I have decided that true maturity is when human beings finally reject the futility of blaming.

Blame–the extra step we add in the process of allegedly solving problems while actually manufacturing a maze that takes us deep into the jungle of confusion.

We exhaust ourselves trying to find out why stupidity happens by generating new stupidity through the investigation.

  • Sometimes blame is obvious. Then mercy is in order.
  • On other occasions blame is shared. At that point, some candor would be nice.

But blame is often a mystery. As the great and wise Solomon said, “Time and chance happens to all.”

Yea, we all take our turn in the fast lane–and also stalled in the traffic jam.

For of a truth, maturity is when we finally realize that pursuing the source of the difficulty often hinders the solution.

And unfortunately, it also turns us into self-righteous, judgmental black holes.

 

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Bladder

Bladder: (n) a membranous sac in which urine is collected for excretion.

Dictionary B

Irony.

As I write this essay, I have squeezed my legs together because I need to pee.

It’s called Phase #1: I hold my breath and wait for about ten seconds, and the urge temporarily passes.

It is the first warning from my bladder that eviction is inevitable.

I don’t know if there’s a part of the body that is quite as insistent as the bladder for taking over matters in such a threatening way.

I have waited until Phase #2 many times. This is where a twinge of back pain accompanies the urge to squeeze out. The body is letting you know that withholding the pleasure of urination is creating great distress within the natural chemistry.

Phase #3: a fear of moving because of double dribbling.

I have gone as far as Phase #4, when my internal workings basically say, “screw this,” and I begin to release with no option.

Therefore, even though we take great pride in being in control of our lives, we must always understand: the bladder is really the ringmaster.

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Black Sheep

Black sheep: (n) a member of a family or group regarded as a disgrace

Dictionary B

For there to be the existence of a black sheep, Mary’s little lamb had to make a decision, at some point, to go urban.

In a society which publicly proclaims the value of righteousness, we privately revere the renegade.

We are obsessed with those who are possessed.

We like villains.

We like criminals.

Girls like bad boys because they think these notorious numbskulls have some sexual edge which cannot be acquired by those who favor a razor.

So even though we may say someone is “the black sheep of the family,” we are also curious if this darkened kindred will be at the next family reunion–because if they aren’t, then we’re pretty sure it will be a dull party.

  • What is so intriguing about walking on the wild side?
  • What fascinates us about the rebel?
  • Why do each one of us want to be considered pure of heart, yet a little dark around the liver?

It’s because black sheep are so used to not being included that they’ve developed survival skills that make them handy in difficult situations.

Case in point: I never learned a damn thing by attending a seminar. Everything I’ve acquired in life came from trying to recoup some sense … from my latest mishap. 

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Black Hole

Black hole: (n) a place where people or things, especially money, disappear without trace

Dictionary B

For years, in moments of frustration, I succumbed to calling individuals around me who found my disfavor, “Asshole.”

I never felt good about it.

It was a rather sleazy term, with no real meaning. After all, the problem was certainly north of their posterior.

Yet it made me temporarily feel empowered and superior, so I gave in to the inclination.

But no more.

I have found the perfect insult for those around me who are oblivious to the needs of others and think they are driving on the highway of life in the carpool lane.

They are black holes.

When anything full of life, potential, mercy, goodness, gentleness or legitimate humor gets anywhere near them, they swallow it up into the darkness of their oblivion. They do not possess the ability to retain, but instead are bottomless cups, constantly needing refilling.

The danger is that our society might become so accepting of these “black holes” that we start believing it is human nature to be devoid of empathy.

That would be most unfortunate.

Because even in the carpool lane, it is required for you to have two people.

 

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Black and White

Black and white: (adj) clearly defined opposing principles or issues.

Dictionary B

You can always stimulate a debate by posing the question of whether there actually are things that are black and white–in other words, ideas which are either solely good or massively evil.

The general consensus of our present society is that such defined positions do not really exist, but rather, mingle into shades of gray.

But I contend there is one–yes, one–white, pure notion: Treat other people the way you want to be treated.

Sometimes we think we can compromise that particular pearl of great price.

  • Matter of fact, a politician will say that if an opponent hits him, he must hit back.
  • A school counselor suggests that the only way to defeat a bully is to figuratively hit him or her in the nose.

We have decided it is unnatural to turn the other cheek for fear of sporting double bruises.

So we’ve created a dreary gray. The Golden Rule has no chance to shine.

So are there black and white issues?

I think there is only one white issue: no one is better than anyone else.

And when you deny that, you darken the skies of mankind’s future.

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Black

Black: (adj) the very darkest color

  • Dictionary BA black comedy.
  • A black cave.
  • A black situation.
  • A black scenario.
  • A blackened sky.
  • Black as sin.

Sometimes we wonder why ignorance persists.

We muse over our alleged newfound openness and genteel demeanor concerning our differences while continuing to perpetuate myths.

First and foremost, there are really no black people. Even those who live deep in the heart of Africa are not actually black.

The human race is an unusually diverse palate of browns–even white people are peachy-beige. We apply hard names with hard definitions onto individuals in order to quietly segregate them in a conversational way, since we’ve made it illegal to do so in a general way.

Black is beautiful.

Black is classy.

Black is the new orange.

The truth is that human beings are neither black or white. They continue to be, and always will be, unpredictable.

 

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Blab

Blab: (v) to reveal secrets by indiscreet talk.

Dictionary B

It has taken me too many years to learn to shut up.

All through my youth, I was enamored with the power of my own speech and the intelligence of the insights I possessed.

I was prepared, at the drop of a hat, to comment on hat dropping.

I felt it was my duty.

I thought it asserted my individuality.

Yet too much talk is a premature revelation of the limit of one’s intelligence.

It also quickly reveals hidden prejudices.

And it fills the room with the fragrance of one’s verbiage–overwhelming those all around with the noxious fumes.

I was guilty of blabbing.

I got too comfortable, shared secrets that were meant to be holy and made them common.

  • I wanted to be smart.
  • I yearned for acceptance.

And then one day, I discovered the power of well-selected silence.

I could still have the thoughts bouncing around.

I could have an inner giggle over a humorous idea that popped into my head.

But I didn’t need to make it public domain.

There’s too much blabbing in America … and unfortunately, all the speaking does not seem to increase the hearing.

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