Monday, 20 April 2020

Thought Picnic: The enduring art of wordy silviculture


Seeking the words for a tapping
“When ideas fail, words come in very handy.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Sometimes, I am caught on the horns of a dilemma, seeking ideas for a blog and failing to find any form of inspiration, insight, or direction. That way, I apparently run into a wall, what they term Writer’s Block.
I would not arrogate to myself the status of a writer, my stuff is whimsical and light, where silliness collides with levity that if anything I published here were to find another forum not in my control, I risk being dismissed with the risible laughter of a braying mob.
Limited courage to extend
That belies my constant angst of reaching beyond the comfort of my blog, I do not have the myriad opportunities for returning to correct spelling or grammatical errors. Many of those I submitted articles to have not bothered to proofread my copy, they publish as it was delivered apart from changing the formatting to suit their aesthetic preferences.
One would think anybody receiving copy for syndication would have a pendant ready to pore of the text, not so much to change the editorial slant, but to help it pass the muster of grammatical rules. Though, nothing scares me as much as to have someone change the context, tense, import and content of anything I have submitted for publication.
The safety of your island
Worse still is where the publication offers open commentary with liberal rules suffering for the freedom of expression without allowing a modicum of courtesy or politeness. In that, you are left at the mercy of the elements. Invariably, the words of Roger Scruton the philosopher who passed on in January ring true, “The mob is by nature innocent: it washes its own conscience in a flow collective indignation.”
Yes, you risk a pile-on and it is not in any way pleasant. Maybe there is contentment in just having your personal blog that has existed for 16 years. I can live with that; I seek neither fame nor infamy, maybe relevance in the insignificant.
My blog is an island you can view from afar and visit by express permission. It becomes the safety my seed words need to gain a life of their own without the tares of malevolence choking the process of growing a forest of words that become trees.

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