There are many things I could and/or should be doing in the physical world, but I’m sitting here living in that nor so vital organ I call my brain.

One thing on my mind is that the thing that sucks about writing and trying to write well and performing and trying to perform well is that words themselves are commonplace. Everyone who has been to school, stood up and recited a book report, believes he’s got what it takes by virtue of literacy and a rudimentary vocabulary. Everyone can read and write, but sure as fucking hell some of them cannot communicate.

Gun to the head, make or break, don’t equivocate speech required and they need not apply.

(Whoa, shit, note to self, do not listen to rap acts on TV while writing here. I just meaninglessly strung shit together in that last sentence, because I liked the way it sounded in my head. Fucking A, I’m getting all Jesse Jackson up in here.)

I’m feeling cranky after a conversation with a soaking, get the guy a towel, wet behind the ears open miker. Good that he was listening, I guess, since I’m not sure I wouldn’t walk away from me. (Actually, I’m pretty fucking certain, I would walk away from me.) But, one thing that was making me crazy in the convo is that many words have none subjective meanings, and I tend to pick my words with those meanings in mind. My panties get knotted when someone reiterates what I say in order to tell me that the difference I am stating is just semantic, when in fact the reiteration provided is inaccurate and the words I used truly different in meaning.

Maybe I should just walk around with a glossary for young people. It would include “killing on stage,” which is something they have never done. It would also include charts to parse the differences in words that are not in fact synonymous, like “smart,” “clever,” “intelligient” and “intellectual” -or- “honest,” “true,” “genuine” and “real” -or- “funny” and the gag-ridden, overwritten, awkward bullshit that a great deal of newbies speak. (Extending this thought to my non-comic life, I guess I would also have a list to explain the non-literal use of words like kill, stab, die, and a thousand other violent or sexual metaphors or hyberbolic phrases.)

Jesus, I wish I know exactly which day in my life was the day I really began to be contemptuously bored by youth. Wish I had a broom to shake at young open mikers to scare and shoo them off the stage. I should buy a housecoat.

Waste of energy on my part, really, allowing the panty knottage. I wish I could repair the broken synapse that makes me believe I can explain myself if I try hard enough, even while all objective evidence screams otherwise.

The more meaningful brain activity I was doing tonight was reading some company ‘blogs and the related article that a few folks have been talking about with me.

The article and the Sun base also had me reading up on fun stuff like open source, mixed source, technology implementation and whatnot. (If I weren’t so lazy, there would be some back-tracking links in that last chunk of that sentence.)

I know first hand about some stuff involving work and weblogs, and I’ve spent months now reading more about people like me, as well as the corporate point of view. Long-term (and/or short-term) it would be nice to make some lemonade out of life’s bullshit (to grind a mixed metaphor), coupled with my writing and ‘puter skills. The first toe in that water will be by phone tomorrow. Probably jinxed it by writing here.

I’m such a dorky, weblogging tool.