Brown: (n) a color produced by mixing red, yellow, and blue, as of dark wood or rich soil.

Dirt is brown. Actually, more like soil.

Hair can be brown. Some people get nasty and call it “mousey brown.”

So I guess that means a mouse can be brown, although many of them are gray.Dictionary B

Tree bark’s brown. Which means some wood is brown. Some isn’t.

Eyes can be brown. Matter of fact they can be quite attractive when they are, though for some reason we extol blue.

Poop is brown, unless you’re sick or ate at an Indian restaurant.

But when I sat down and thought about brown, I realized that the times I’ve heard brown mentioned were never particularly favorable. Like I asked some guy what color his TV set was. He replied, “Well, it’s kind of an ugly brown, but you’re not gonna look at the casing anyway. You’re going to watch TV.”

Is brown ugly?

After all, if you have a pair of brown shoes, you can’t wear them with black. And they don’t look good with white. You can kind of wear them with beige and darker, right?

What happened to brown?

Was it targeted?

Or did it just try to add too many colors to itself and end up with mush?

Is mush brown?

No–it’s kind of “yellowish.”

Which brings up the term “brownish.” Is that a good thing?

How about brown skin? Does it suffer from the traditions of prejudice?

Or did it just lose favor because people don’t like brown?


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by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

About: (prep.) on the subject of; concerning.

Finally–a word I can write about that doesn’t tell me what to write about, but instead, allows me the about on which I wish to write.

Since I was a kid I’ve been given topics. Subjects–things that I’m supposed to think about, do or construct a paragraph to explain. It’s limiting!

But now, today, because of the courtesy of the word “about,” I could write ANYTHING on this paper and make a case that I was merely elaborating on the subject to explain the word “about.”

I feel empowered.

I feel completely in control of my own destiny from an artistic sense–not bound by tradition, complication or compulsion–unless you want to consider the compulsion that I might have–to focus “about” something…

It’s a great question: “What is this about?”

You can answer almost anything, since the person asking obviously has no clue. Your response is as good as any.

Matter of fact, the other day I tried it. Somebody was speaking to a friend in line at a restaurant and said, “What do you think all this debate concerning the budget is about?”

There was a brief pause, wherein I leaped through the silence, into the conversation and replied, “Guilt over genocide of the Indians.”

I then turned my back and resumed a dialogue with a nearby friend.

Neither one of the people who had been engaged in this discussion concerning the budget exactly knew what to do. After all, they didn’t know what it was about, therefore leaving themselves wide open for a tangential interpretation. What I succeeded in doing was stifling their involvement. They changed the subject and moved on.

So, since I could write about anything today, what I’ve decided to discuss…

Wait a second. They’re telling me my time is up. I’ve already used too many words.

Shoot. Another blown opportunity. Well, let me sum it up.

Can anybody explain to me why frog legs which have been fried taste a little bit like mush until you put salt on them, and then all they taste like is salt?

Thank you for your time.