Tag Archives: discussion

Cue Ball

Cue ball: (n) the ball a player strikes with the cue, as distinguished from the other balls on the table.

I insisted it was not fair.

Every time I played pool with my friends—Eight Ball—I did a great job clearing the balls on the table.

That is, until I got down to the cue ball and the eight ball.

Then it was time to put the eight ball away, naming the pocket where I planned to place it, thus closing the game with a slam-dunk.

Here was my problem.

Every time I got to that stage, I either hit the eight ball and it would go into a pocket I did not name, or more often, the cue ball followed the eight ball into the pocket, thus making me a loser.

I argued.

After all, I completed 90% of the task of winning the game. How could I lose the 90% over a 10% mistake?

It was unrighteous.

It was a plot.

It was un-American.

My friends didn’t care. “The rules say…”

That’s how they began every discussion, declaring me a loser.

I got to the point that I hated the cue ball. I feared it. Once I began fearing it, I was afraid to strike it with my stick.

Of course, if you can’t strike the cue ball with your stick, you won’t have a very good break at the beginning of the game. So I stopped wanting to have the first break—which certainly robbed me of an advantage. So I sat around, hoping someone would miss a shot since I had passed on breaking the balls.

All at once, a game I had been very efficient at playing I now despised.

All because of the cue ball.

That damned cue ball that followed the eight ball into the pocket.

Or the eight ball which refused to go to where I declared its home to be.

At no time did it occur to me that I could practice and become better. Why would you want to practice something that was unfair?

So I pouted.

After a while, when I went with my friends to play pool, I just sat and watched.

Soon I wouldn’t go along if they were going to play pool.

They, on the other hand, could never guarantee that pool wouldn’t crop up in the evening’s activities. So I started staying home.

I soon became a recluse. Nobody wanted to be around me.

Since I wasn’t going to be around people, I stopped bathing, didn’t shave and only occasionally brushed my teeth. My breath was repugnant, even to my own mouth.

Pretty soon people were praying for me instead of visiting me.

I went into a mental hospital and was diagnosed with a personality disorder.

I had to stay in my room, though, because the recreational area had a pool table and it sent me into a fit of rage.

I tried to overdose on aspirin but failed miserably.

You see? This is what can happen when you are viciously attacked by a cue ball.

Epilogue

By the way, everything I shared after the word “un-American” was completely made up—seeking your sympathy.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

 

Creator

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Creator: (n) a person or thing that creates.

The top four things, in order, that wear out my soul in order, beginning with Number Four:

  1. Serious discussions that end up with people pouting.
  2. Feeling sorry for myself because I’m stuck in traffic.
  3. My own intolerance showing up, exposing me for the fallible son-of-a-bitch I sometimes am.

And now, Number One:

Incessant barking, preaching, complaining, questioning and postulating on the subject of God.

Is there a Creator?

Let me be blunt—I only have one reason that I want a Creator. It’s because it makes me feel more valuable.

Without a Creator, I have to envision that I am a stop on the evolutionary chain, somewhere between protoplasm and infinity.

Yuk. I don’t want to feel that way.

It makes the other three things I mentioned even more aggravating. Traffic seems more congested, my intolerance tends to have some deeper meaning, and for some unrealistic reason, getting serious about ludicrous matters makes me feel grown-up.

I need a Creator because I need to feel created, so that I will want to be creative.

Did you get that?

Creator, created, creative.

When I don’t feel created, I have no desire whatsoever to change my circumstance when bitching about it seems to adequately fill the time.

I do not find that believing in a Creator makes people better, and that disbelieving makes them worse. But sometimes, cuddling up to the idea that we are purposely constructed by a divine order does make the journey seem a little sweeter.

Otherwise, we begin to look around the room, the nation and the world, rolling our eyes, thinking internally: Hell, is that all there is?

 

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Conviction

Conviction: (n) a fixed or firm belief

There is a new rule. If the word “rule” sounds too stodgy for you, then call it a guideline.

If “guideline” is still too restrictive, you may consider it an insight.

If “insight” gives you the creeps, then let’s just call it an idea.

Here it is:

You are allowed, permitted and granted an opinion, as long as you’re willing to be wrong.

The very second that you—or I, for that matter—start insisting that our opinion is really a conviction held by millions and even, maybe, heralded by the heavens, we probably need to be hauled off somewhere to live in a poverty-stricken situation until humility settles into our souls.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Discussion would be no problem if we actually discussed. We don’t. We enter discussions with convictions.

Disagreements would still be fine if we were conscious of the need to evolve. But we aren’t, because our convictions arrived to us engraved in stone.

It would even be possible to argue—as long as our convictions didn’t cause us to be arrogant, feeling that we’re pleasing a political party, a science project or a deity by being stubborn.

I used to have many convictions. I used to scrunch my face up when I heard people advance their theories or share their preferences.

Whenever I did this, my ass always found my hole and created an unrighteous unity.

Over the years I have abandoned, ignored, walked away from and giggled at many of my convictions, realizing that the majority of them were hatched in the henhouse of speculation. Let’s be honest—your speculation is as good as mine, and mine is pretty worthless.

So now I listen, I get an idea of what’s going on, and from that idea I develop an inkling which I take into the discussion, only to discover that much of my inkling needs to be trimmed away.

I am not impressed with convictions.

What truly touches my heart is seeing human beings who have the mercy and grace to be wrong while still smiling.


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Conversation

Conversation: (n) informal interchange of thoughts, information, etc., by spoken words; oral communication between persons

I guess I’m trying to understand Mr. Webster’s inclusion of the word “informal” in relationship to “conversation.”

I surmise that he might be thinking that a conversation is different from a discussion, because the minute it becomes a discussion it has an funny wisdom on words that begin with a Cagenda, or at least a main subject. And a discussion transforms into a debate if the two people talking are in disagreement, becoming an argument when each person is determined to stick to his or her guns, trying to convert the other person.

My problem with a conversation is that it often becomes two human beings reciting their resumes to one another, allowing time for the other one to counter with similar information. In other words, “How are your kids doing?” Space of time, space of time, space of time…

Now it’s my turn. “This is how my kids are doing.” Space of time, space of time, space of time…

Because of the social media craze in our world, even the discourses we have with each other live and in person have begun to resemble Facebook with verbal posts.

To me, that’s not a conversation. A conversation is best defined, I believe, by the idea that two people get together yearning for fellowship and hungry for fresh insight.

It’s not a series of soliloquies in which we hope the other person is listening, but rather, dialogue peppered with questions, some indecision, observations and enough incompleteness that the other party feels comfortable contributing.

Conversation is the absence of the deadly five questions:

  1. How are you?
  2. What have you been doing lately?
  3. How are the kids?
  4. Health been excellent?
  5. What’s going on with the job?

If you can avoid these five questions religiously, you can sit down and have an actual conversation, which can turn out to be truly spiritual.

 

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Consider

Consider: (v) to think carefully about something

A lily.

Let me consider this…

A carpenter who talks to his friends about considering lilies.

Certainly the more macho factions of our society might find this to be somewhat effeminate.

Liberals might think this statement, “consider the lily” is a sign of unannounced but obvious support for the LGBTQ community.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

But what the carpenter wanted everyone to consider was not the beauty of the lily, but how it grew.

So much talk. So much reasoning. So much discussion about growing.

Yet the assertion of this carpenter was that the lily was worth considering because it grew without struggle. It didn’t work hard or try to manipulate circumstances to its favor.

It found dirt, absorbed the available nutrients, waited for the rain to enrich it, and then it trusted that there was good stuff inside the seed to create a flower.

There are so many beautiful thoughts there that it would be difficult to focus on one over another. So let me not steer the wheel of your journey in comprehension.

After all, the carpenter had the best word to describe what we need to do if we want to understand how Earth, Mother Nature and even faith flourish.

He suggested: consider.

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Compromise

Compromise: (n) an agreement reached by each side making concessions.

Dinner chatter.

I’m speaking of those conversations that occur after a fine meal, while some sip on wine and others lick their cheesecake fork.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

These are the moments when people feel the need to wax philosophical while simultaneously appearing to be extraordinarily open-minded.

So one person shares his or her opinion and another adds detail, being very careful not to contradict, but instead, enhance.

By the end of the exchange, a summary is formed in which everyone’s sentiments are included in some capacity–almost like a discussion scrapbook.

The host or hostess often conclude by saying things like:

“Well, I’m sure all the political parties have something good to share since they all love America.”

Or:

“Even though we should be sensitive to each other’s cultures and respect difference, there is no race left out or creed dispelled.”

Or one of my favorites:

“It would seem that all paths lead to God and each one of us selects a profile literally tailored to our soul.”

We love compromise.

Matter of fact, in the American system, compromise is considered more sacred than authenticity. For years and years we’ve rejected obvious truth to make sure we did not offend anyone in the room.

Let me tell you something about the path to God:

It demands truth on our inward parts, and in no way, shape or form are we to distinguish, isolate or even separate off into groups–because God is no respecter of persons.

 

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Chat

Chat: (v) to talk in a friendly and informal way.

To me, “chat” always seemed like a shortened version of another word. But it isn’t. I thought maybe it was short for “Chatterley.” But that was some lady with a lover.

I used to have a friend who tried to lessen his anger by telling me that he wanted to sit down and “have a chat.” I was always aware that this
 was bad news. His definition of “chatting” was to begin quietly and end screaming. But I guess I have to give him points for trying.

What is a chat?

It is a collection of words not worthy to be called a “talk.”

It is so lacking in value that it doesn’t even get to be considered a “discussion.”

God knows it’s not an “insight.”

And certainly it isn’t an “intercourse” (which should never be used to describe a conversation. Some words only have one meaning.)

“Chat” seems to be infested with a spirit of nonsense–a sensation of insignificance.

It’s the kind of thing where someone says, “Did you see Aunt Myrtle?” and I reply, “We chatted”–to which everyone frowns and thinks, “Oh. Not much there.”

For instance, you would not refer to it as “The Gettysburg Chat.”

Or “The Chat on the Mount.”

No one goes for “marriage chatting.”

Chatting just don’t get no respect.

It is the Rodney Dangerfield of verbiage.

 

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Body Language

Body language: (n) the process of communicating nonverbally through conscious or unconscious gestures

Dictionary B

Normally, if “body” has a language, it’s fussiness.

By the time our little ticks, twits and jerks become obvious to those around us, we have festered frustration for way too long.

We are intended to be heart creatures, where emotions crop up and we share them with the anticipation of salvaging the good, and having a hearty laugh over the rest.

Yet for those who are afraid to share their feelings, there is a soul. It also gives us a doorway to communication through confession. If we haven’t taken advantage of our heart, to be clean, we can confess our faults to one another and be healed.

But there are those who do not believe in the soul, and for them, there is the brain. So these folks can use the mind to stimulate discussion with others, introducing topics they may not want to confess, but can still garner food for thought.

But when we fail to share, confess or discuss, our inner grumbling comes out through our body language–as our skin literally crawls within the view of others.

  • If you can’t share, confess.
  • If you can’t confess, discuss.

But if you fail to stimulate the discussion, be prepared for your little twitches to be analyzed by the skeptics around you.

 

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Blatant

Blatant: (adj) bad behavior done openly and unashamedly.

Dictionary B

There are certain words which close the door to communication. For instance, “inexcusable.” If someone tells me that what I’ve done is “inexcusable,” repentance is rather fruitless.

Such is true with the word blatant.

I have found myself in the midst of discussions which turned into arguments as they became bottlenecked by the introduction of this word. Let me give you an example:

“When you came into the room, you ignored me, and it was a blatant expression of your disdain for my person.”

Now, I suppose I could discuss or even disagree if I were accused of ignoring someone, but when the individual has determined that it was blatant–pre-planned, carved in stone and hatched hours earlier in the basement of my hellish cottage–then compromise has possibly been eliminated.

What is blatant?

Do we really believe that human beings are so crafty and intelligent that they can construct devilish plans of premeditated proportions?

Or do we realize, deep in our hearts, that all of us mortals are pretty much pulling it out of our ass?

 

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Aye

Aye: (exclam) an exclamation said to express assent; yes.

It often baffles me.dictionary with letter A

Why do some people like to find the most difficult way to do things?

Maybe it’s my natural lazy nature. but I think taking just a few extra minutes to decide on the easiest and most logical way to accomplish your deeds is well worth the time.

I have no allegiance to any form of religion or politics. In both cases, I pursue common sense.

So when I find myself, on rare occasions, in meetings where Parliamentary Procedure is being honored as the correct way to conduct business, I am initially amused but ultimately aggravated.

As you well know, in the process of trying to follow this archaic system, arguments often break out over points of order. Soon it becomes more important whether Jim or Sally have chosen the right moment to begin discussion than the actual topic on which the vote is being taken.

So when I see the word “aye” it reminds me of that stuffy question posed: All those in favor say “aye.” All those opposed, “nay.”

  • I never say “aye” in my regular life.
  • I am also unaccustomed to “nay.”

So call me unconventional, or perhaps a renegade–but I do not like to do things, even for ten minutes, that have absolutely nothing to do with my functioning life. I find them them silly and annoying. So these are the three phrases that I avoid religiously:

  • “Please repeat after me.”
  • “Is there a second to that motion?”
  • Point of order.”

Perhaps, at the root of my soul, is an anarchist or a revolutionary.

I’m not sure.

But Parliamentary Procedure belongs in Parliament, which is part of those nasty English that we fought so hard to get away from.

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