Tag Archives: critic

Curt

Curt: (adj) rudely brief in speech or abrupt in manner.

“Shut up. And if you’re not speaking, get the hell out of my face.”

Every single day of my life I sit here writing these essays—pouring out words from my heart, tumbling from deep in my soul.

And what do you do? Damn it, you peruse them. Or if you do read them, you’re only interested in catching grammatical errors.

Screw you.

Yes. That’s what I said.

You and your horse you rode across the wilderness…or whatever that street lingo is.

I’m a sensitive fellow.

I am in need of affirmation.

Have you ever met an artist who isn’t? Even though it is extremely pretentious to refer to oneself as an artist, I shall do it on this occasion, just to make my much-needed point.

You think you’ve earned the right to be a critic instead of basking in the warmth, the tenderness and the glory of the progression of thoughts I offer, using words as the boxcars of my train of thoughts.

Now, could YOU have come up with that previous sentence?

Your response: “Well, I wouldn’t. It’s silly. It’s affected.”

Well, screw you.

I don’t need your appreciation.

I don’t care if you ever read another thing I ever write.

Go surf the Internet.

Be a beach boy looking for the best wave.

I don’t care.

Of course, I do—but I can’t let you know.

So I have decided the best path is to follow the entire mass of present society and appear to be angry and apathetic. Or is it apathetic and angry? Which one makes you mad and which one disconnects you from the mainstream of the motherboard of life?

So this may be my last posting—though probably not because I still have time left on my WordPress contract.

But if I didn’t, you would be without ME tomorrow. So what do you think about THAT?

Too curt for you?

(The preceding was only for dramatic effect. Any feelings hurt in the process of production were unintentional.)

 

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Chloroform

Chloroform: (n) a sweet-smelling anesthetic.

I am a phony.

I’m hoping that if I admit it, I won’t have to be accosted by the critics who discover it.

Here is where my phoniness comes to the forefront: I often think about matters which I insist would be intriguing, but if offered the opportunity, I’d turn it down.

This came to my mind this morning when I looked at the word “chloroform.” I have watched television shows where a character has placed this chemical on a
 handkerchief, covering the nose of an enemy, putting him or her into a deep sleep.

While viewing this I have thought to myself, I wonder what that’s like? Is there any pain, discomfort, hangover or headache that would accompany the experience? I am intrigued.

Yet if somebody walked into the room and asked, “Would you like to find out what it’s like to go under?” I would pass.

Any number of situations would fall into this pattern.

  • “I am interested.”
  • “Here you are.”
  • “No, thanks.”

It’s not that I’m a coward. I actually consider myself to be very adventurous. But it’s much easier to envision myself brave than it is to prove it in the courtroom of human events.

I occasionally watch people jumping out of an airplane and wonder if I would actually do it.

It’s ridiculous. Unless the plane was on fire and twelve feet from the ground, I would remain within.

I have avoided friendships, romantic encounters and probably passed up on a good deal or two simply because I could not pull the trigger at the right moment.

I don’t lack experience; I am not a novice. It’s just that in selected moments, I was a coward.

Or maybe I should call myself an “over-stater.”

Yes. That sounds better: “That fellow really over-states his interest level.”

And since I have grown weary of being quite this vulnerable, I shall stop my typing and chloroform this article.

 

 

 

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Better

Better: (adj) an improvement on an existing or previous level or achievement.

Dictionary B

“Better” is in the probing of the critic.

It immediately has sprouts weaknesses:

  1. It has us probing and over-analyzing the good things of life,
  2. And it makes us believe that we are viable or possibly more intelligent by being critical.

Matter of fact, to gain the approval of everyone in the room, all you have to opine is, “I want to get better.”

I suppose it’s because each one of us is intoxicated by the notion of becoming the best. That solitary position, afforded to the individual or even the team that acquires the top position, seems to drive us to the exhaustion of hurrying and worrying.

When is enough, enough?

When do you finish making a great meal, sit down and just enjoy it instead of musing, “You know what this needs?”

When can you have great love-making, and just lay back in ecstasy instead of contemplating the next “better position?”

And when will we finally look across the terrain of our present landscape and point out the attractions that are filled with promise instead of gazing off in the distance, believing there should be more?

Better is an anxious word.

It is filled with dissatisfaction and it often makes us believe that we can do more than we’re actually able to accomplish.

It aggravates the saint and condemns the sinner.

Even though I will probably fall under the spell of those who want to better everything within their purview, for the time being–at least for today–I will enjoy all that I have that is good.

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Ardent

dictionary with letter A

Ardent: (adj) enthusiastic or passionate.

“One man’s bratwurst is another man’s wiener.”

(I’m sure it’s a famous saying somewhere. For the sake of the essay, let us assume so.)

Also, I must tell you that one person’s “ardent” is another critic’s “fanatic.”

Passion is worthy of praise. To criticize all passion is to remove the energy that creates change.

So what is the difference between ardent and fanatic?

For instance, in the process of trying to generate political progress, we have diluted truths and valuable causes down to mere slogans and debate points.

In the quest for avoiding religion infringing on the rights of minorities, we have often crippled the legs of faith, which transforms lives.

I am an ardent believer, but I am not a fanatic. May I tell you the difference?

1. I use my beliefs to experiment on myself, not you.

I am not concerned whether you desire to follow my path. If you’re interested, come see. If you’re not, go look.

2. I want to use my beliefs to clarify what science and technology are discovering.

Science and faith are not at odds. They are fellow-researchers, working in the same laboratory, often greatly surprised at their similar findings.

3. And finally, I do not want my faith to be made of stone, but rather, of a material which allows the grace of stretching to cover a multitude of situations–even sins.

I have little concern about what the Law of Religion says. It is my job to find the mercy within its legislation.

Ardent is when we realize that what we pursue is for our benefit, not for constraints on others.

 

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Aphorism

dictionary with letter A

Aphorism: (n.) a short, witty remark containing a general truth.

The definition is filled with redundancies.

For I will tell you that after years of writing articles and even speaking in front of audiences, if something is not short, it will never be viewed as witty. And honestly, it is virtually impossible to be witty without revealing some sort of abiding truth.,

So what is missing today? In an age of Twitter and Tweets, when we’re trying to limit ourselves to 140 characters, we should be uncovering the secret to communication–and a great doorway for sharing abiding precepts.

But remembering that it is out of the abundance of human emotions that we speak, when we are devoid of emotional purity, entangled in webs of our own deceit and selfishness, what emerges from our speech and our writing is the drivel of nonsense, as we attempt to be clever, often ending up crude.

  • Is it possible to be pointed without stabbing everyone with your jaded attitude?
  • How about using comedy minus vulgarity?
  • Can you challenge without becoming a critic?
  • Can you question while leaving out all the brattiness?

You can awaken the senses without slapping the face. It takes a willingness to improve the human situation without trying to degrade humanity.

Will there be a cycle which will take us back to a time when “short,” “witty” and “truth” mingled with each other to hatch delight?

I certainly think so.

But I do believe we’ll have to learn how to tip-toe through the pasture, avoiding all the bullshit, to make sure we can get to where the flowers grow.

 

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Allah

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Allah: (n) the name of God among Muslims (and Arab Christians)

I got a Kentucky woman pissed off at me–and unlike Neil Diamond’s representation of Kentucky women, they actually can be quite vindictive.

I had the audacity, as a writer trying to be clever, to jokingly refer to God, in one of my books, as Larry. The tongue-in-cheek observation I was trying to make was that I really don’t care what name we use for our Divine Creator–as long as the results are productive in the human experience.

She was greatly offended by this notion, and decided to spread evil rumors about me. Of course, it didn’t last too long–and she’s living in Kentucky while I’m still traveling the country (with Larry).

But the truth of the matter is, I am not concerned with the nametags we place upon the breast of the Holy One as much as the character we end up attributing to His or Her nature.

It is my discovery that the Muslims call the Creator of us all “Allah.” I must be candid–the word leaves a bit of distaste in my soul because of how their Allah seems to view humanity and how He plans on making us righteous.

I have just never found that good is gained through restriction, meanness and commandments. It is unsuccessful in a species that struggles with temptation and inadequacy. Perhaps, as some of my dear Muslim friends may insist, this representation of Allah from the Koran is not true by those who stomp, scream and terrorize.

I understand.

But it does fall their lot to disprove the shouting voices of the angry horde if they’re actually going to continue to present Allah as a viable choice for us folks.

I think if you’re going to call someone or something “God,” it should have three definite attributes:

  1. Be a Creator, not a critic.
  2. Still be happy that it created, and not miserable with the decision.
  3. Have more mercy than judgment.

Because candidly, my dear friends, if God, Allah or whoever it may be doesn’t cut us some slack from His perfected perch, who would have a chance?

So until those who believe in Allah can convince me that their representation of God is still thrilled with human beings instead of angry with them, I guess I will stick with the three-letter version: G-O-D.

Ain’t

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Ain’t: contraction of am not, are not, is not, will not: e.g. if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Every three weeks I experience a ritual. Yes, quite predictable. Every twenty-one days, I get a note from some austere, tight-assed grammarian, commenting on my wording, syntax or style of expressing ideas. These people have three things in common:

  • They’re always sure they’re right.
  • They’re always sure I’m wrong.
  • They are affronted by my lack of understanding of proper writing and suggest that I go back to Hoboken or wherever I last mis-learned my craft.

My thought? The best way to get a pain in the ass is to sit on it too long doing nothing. Thus the critic.

I will tell you this: words are powerful when they communicate and useless when they don’t.

For instance, there are passages from the Good Book, which I am told is divinely inspired, which are incomprehensible. I will wager that most people who teach in English departments and promote the great works of literature have not read those volumes themselves but instead, rely on Cliff notes to summarize the material.

Let’s be honest: “I ain’t gonna study war no more” is the best way to express that sentiment. Other options, like, “I am not going to study war anymore” seem to lose some punch. Or how about this one? “The pursuit of studying war has lost its meaning for me.” I guess at that point it would change from being a Negro spiritual to a Harvard spiritual.

Even though my English teachers told me that the word “ain’t” should never be used and would eventually become obsolete, the truth is, the only thing that became obsolete were my English teachers.

Here are three quick criteria for good writing:

  1. It’s understandable.
  2. It tells a story.
  3. The story lives on.

Anything other than this is just an exercise in futility which doesn’t create muscles anywhere … except in your self-righteous ego.

Ailey, Alvin

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Ailey, Alvin: (1931-89) U.S. dancer and  choreographer. He founded the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater in 1958 and helped to establish modern dance as an American art form, incorporating ballet, jazz and Afro-Caribbean idioms in his choreography.

Being a writer carries with it a certain amount of arrogance. There is the contention that one has something worthy to be said, and therefore read, and also the annoying predilection to associate everything you hear and see into your own spectrum of thinking.

Yes, it’s truly overbearing.

And when I came across this fine gentleman who was so progressive in the art of dance, because I lacked a lot of personal experience with his work, and fearing that merely taking a journey through Wikipedia to impress you with minor details would be presumptuous, if not comical, I decided to sit down and ask myself what I thought of dance. Realizing that this may be completely irrelevant to you, it is my connection with this journeyman’s craft.

As a lad I didn’t dance at all because my church believed that it was the devil’s two-step. One of the deacons in my congregation insisted that it led to lust. When I explained that at fifteen years of age, merely saying a girl’s name aloud could produce great fantasies and tremblings, he didn’t think I was funny.

So it was after I left home and began working in the music field, and decided to compose a Broadway show that, I began to think about choreography, movement and dance. Matter of fact, for my first production I hired a bunch of freelance musicians and singers to perform–all with an amateur status. Failing to realize that just because someone can sing a tune does not mean their feet will coordinate with each other, on our opening night, one critic deemed our staging and dancing to be “collisionography.”

Later on, I tried choreographing myself. Even though I am built more like a water buffalo than a graceful deer, I pranced around stage, learning my steps, acting as fluid as I possibly could, trying to discover my “center,” which ended up being very large because of my midriff.

But I enjoyed every minute of it.

I was thrilled with the audacity of daring to erupt in front of other people, while projecting emotion and ideas through the gyrations.

So when I look at the work of a man like Alvin Ailey, I realize that even though some folks think such shenanigans are evil, despicable or lascivious, life without movement–often purposeful–is bland and motionless.

Matter of fact, there are times when I have jobs to do and I choreograph every single endeavor to produce desirable results.

We come into this world, squeezing through a tiny opening, landing on our butts, learning to walk, so that hopefully … someday we can dance.

Aeschylus

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Aeschylus: (c. 390 – 314 BC) Greek dramatist, best known for his tragedies Agamemnon, Choephoroe and Eumenides. Considered to be the father of the Greek tragedy.

Not only the father of the Greek tragedy, but also seemingly the parent of prime-time television and the movie industry of our present day.

After all, if we don’t insert some tragedy into the stories we tell, we risk some critic dubbing our tale “saccharine, cloying,” or worse yet–“family fare.”

There is a common aversion in today’s social strata against sharing a story with ups, downs, ins and outs, which ends up with a realistic conclusion instead of a Hollywood ending. Matter of fact, I think it would be impossible for the 24-hour news cycle to report anything that isn’t either sensational or able to be sensationalized.

And let me offer a tidbit of opinion which will probably grind the teeth of some of my readers: when there is a shooting at a school or a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico, and we begin to hear the phrase, “death toll” introduced into the storyline, even though our better selves hope that people will not be killed, we sometimes might be a little disappointed when this running death toll does NOT rise.

We have geared the American public to be thirsty for blood–as long as it’s not their own. If their little angel sons and daughters have a small prick on the finger, they ready to rush them to the emergency room. But we will watch with a mixture of horror and intrigue as the offspring in Haiti wallow in mud, disease and death.

We are a tragic clump of clods, who honor Aeschylus by perusing the Internet for even MORE of the bizarre.

And if anyone such as myself would dare to object to the onslaught of the macabre, we have prepared speeches decrying these idealistic fools as “sappy”–or worse yet, “religious.”

To reach a point where we can stand tall and pursue our dreams, we will need to reject the fallacy of failure as being inevitable in the human experience. Not everything has to come up roses.

But why in the hell would we plant just thorns?

 

Act

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Act: (v.) 1. take action; do something 2. perform a fictional role in a play, movie or television production.

I was very proud of myself.

I had taken a position as a professor at a very, very small college–a position I was neither qualified nor prepared for in any way. Yet I was determined to do a good job.

I was asked to teach a class on drama. I thought the best way to instruct in drama was to write a three-act play and involve my students in the process of discovering the craft through the execution of an actual production.

To make sure that it would have some community appeal so we could sell tickets, I brought in a ringer. She was a lovely actress I had met a couple of years earlier , who had toured in one of my shows. She was delightful. She agreed to come in and work with the novices, and joined me as we went into rehearsals.

It was touch and go. I suppose, using a barnyard analogy, that it would be similar to trying to convince  a pig to lay a daily egg.

Yet after about a month’s worth of struggling interchanges, we were ready for opening night. The cast was nervous and so was my dear professional. She was wondering where they were going to fall apart–where she would need to step in to cover lines and bobbles. To make it even more interesting, the critic from the local daily paper had appeared to review the show.

Everything went splendidly throughout Act I, when all of a sudden, my intelligent and well-versed actress freaked out, skipped the entire second act, moving directly into the third act of the production, leaving her fellow-performers a bit baffled and the audience absent a good bit of plot development.

It was even more comical the next day when the review came out and the title read, College Play Gains Credibility in Third Act.

Certainly made possible by the fact that we were absent a second act.

I learned a lot that night–that life is never about what we THINK is going to go wrong, but rather, what chooses to go wrong without us ever thinking about it.

And like Shakespeare told us, all the world is a stage and we are actors in the forum.

So don’t be in a hurry.

  • Enjoy Act I.
  • Understand you will need Act II for development,
  • And don’t rush into Act III because you are anxious for the happy ending.