Thu, 19 May 2005

other face
It is one of our collective shortcomings that we equate simple eloquence with sincerity, that to speak of a subject in such a way that its nature is instantly clear to the listener, through the simplest and most direct means possible, that such a person truly knows a subject, while those who stammer and spit at a subject feign knowledge, playing dress-up in someone else’s ideas. This is one of the most diabolical weapons of the corpse, as it is at one’s worst, when one is desperate to make anyone understand what is happening, why it is so difficult to complete even the most minor of tasks, that exhaustion and frustration and confusion get at the throat, choking off the words, leaving the listener with nothing but the vaguest outline of impotent rage. The words will fail you when you need them, every concept falling apart in your hands, so much dead telephone hum and deleted email, until everyone decides there is nothing left to do with you, no means of translating all these false starts into something even close to meaning, and if they do not leave they will remain simply as a mute witness, watching for some short glimpse of that other face you once wore.
(12:25.05.19.2005) [/scrytch] #