Tag Archives: pen

Coherent

Coherent: (adj) a logical theory

A common weakness in those who take pen to paper (though there actually is no pen or paper anymore), who fancy themselves to be writers is the tendency to become exasperated with the reader when he or she pulls up mentally lame–incapable of grasping a deep point or drooling over a clever turn of words.

Actually, to become a good writer, you must “de-brat” yourself. In other words, have the brat removed without losing the childlike quality of simplifying human truth to concepts which are easily grasped. Therefore, don’t put too many steps in your process.

Yesterday I saw an article that advertised “31 Things to Do to Make Your Life Better.” I, for one, am overwhelmed with the notion of Baskin Robbins having thirty-one flavors, let alone remembering them in any sequential order.

Coherence also demands that we use understandable language instead of historical wording. Some words, phrases and ideas are dead. I don’t know if they will ever be resurrected, but presently they are stinking in a tomb.

Just don’t use them. Avoid getting angry with the populace because they’re unfamiliar with your jargon.

And being coherent certainly requires the grace to adjust your thinking when someone finds the flaw in your figuring. No matter how good you may think you are when putting together a respectable thesis, there will always be something you forget.

Rather than losing your cool over being challenged, warm yourself to the idea of learning from your mistakes.

Coherent is when smart meets flexible and they have a child called wisdom.

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Clairvoyant

Clairvoyant: (adj) having or exhibiting an ability to perceive events in the future or beyond normal sensory contact.

If I were to go to the barn and stand around the pig pen and postulate over what the hog behind the fence might do next, it certainly could be considered clairvoyant.

“The animal will oink, followed by wallowing in the mud and then grunting, begging for food,” I might say.

You might stand back in great wonder when the pig fulfilled my prophesy.

Sometimes we have to learn the difference between clairvoyant and discernment. You can feel free to debate whether certain individuals have a deeper insight into reality which could not possibly have been achieved by natural means–or you can come to the conclusion that the more each of us learns to discern how things work, how people function and the common sense of Mother Nature, the more we may appear to be divinely inspired.

For instance, noticing that one of your fellow-workers enters the building without speaking a word and the next thing you hear is a loud noise from his office as he throws his things on the desk…

Well, being able, at that point, to grab a cup of coffee, take it back to him and implore, “Is there anything I can do for you? Are you having a tough day?”

This is not clairvoyant. It’s observant.

It is contingent on each member of the human tribe to keep eyes, ears and even nostrils available, to sense the feeling in a room, alluding to the signs of coming trouble. Otherwise we will start complaining that God did not send us a prophet or prophetess to warn us of these horrible future events.

What God and Mother Nature send our way are inklings, tinglings and visuals of trouble that is beginning to unfold.

He that hath a brain

Let him notice what’s insane.

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Applicant

dictionary with letter A

Ap·pli·cant (n): a person who makes a formal application for something, typically a job.

Filling out a form often has no reason.

I have done my share, as I’m sure you have.

Matter of fact, in the business world, being handed a form to fill out is often considered to be a formal greeting. Sometimes there’s a clipboard so you can sit and write on your knee, using the pen attached by some sort of wire.

They are certainly attempting to communicate that this is part of their process, and demanded if you plan to be included in their little cult of the organized.

Each application has its own personality. It also has its own level of nosiness.

At a doctor’s office, an application can include questions that go back into the lifestyles of your ancient ancestors.

Did my great-grandfather have rheumatic fever? (Honestly, I don’t know, so I make up an answer.)

If you’re applying for a loan at a bank, they want to know lots of things about your lots of things–even lots of things about your little things. And especially little things about lots of things.

Probably the most grating experience in the human panorama is watching someone peruse your application while you sit, wiggling and squirming in silence.

  • Did I answer right?
  • How was my penmanship? (Mrs. Bosley always said I made really ugly “n’s.” Of course, I was in the first grade…)

Yes, there’s nothing quite as frustrating–dare I say aggravating–as being condemned over answers scrawled on a piece of paper.

And I have made the mistake of trying to be humorous on such applications, only to have the interviewer, who obviously has no mirth anywhere within his or her soul, question me as to the meaning of my answer. At that point, it hardly seems to be appropriate to say, “I was kidding,” and saying I misunderstood the question is even more embarrassing.

No, being an applicant and filling out an application is serious business.

It demands an adult mind–one which is still childish enough to believe that such filling in the blanks is actually a microcosm of one’s life.

 

 

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