don't need any help driving myself crazy. I have a keyboard, and the perverse will to use it. Rather like the flails of a penitent.
I seem to have three or five thumbs. This proven whenever I set out to write "this is" and, absent of mind, drop the "is".
Worse, much worse, is the way the cAPS lOCK key seems to lurk under my third or fourth thumb. I've re-written large blocks of text over and over after pranking myself in this is way.
I read for proof with obsessive intensity. I would like for the reader to believe that I do these things out of deliBERATE IRONy. I don't know who I think I'm kidding ...
Seems that it might be past time to ask for help. But I did, back in August. "Case-saving Grace" I even tucked a measly GPk into the envelope. A month-and-some later, I'm still on my own.
Perhaps I'll download another copy of Notepad++. In the meantime -- I removed the keycap. My Caps Lock hath offended me, and I have plucked it out!
What to do, what to do about that evasive "be" verb. Hm-m-m ...
couple of days ago, I learned that James Heyward does not use a goth keyboard. Boogedy Beastie tells me that hers puts the Pentagram key in the upper corner. Let's assume that's the upper lefthand corner. Now, when she sits at her keyboard, there's no Escape.
I think I'll stick with my Corsair 101.
may have learned as much from music as from stories. Recently, here on the Newsfeed, one of us brought up pop music malapropisms -- song lyrics famously mistaken for something else. More precisely, "mondegreens".
Suppose the songwriter did it deliberately. The song that shredded a million phonebooks, "Jenny (867-5309)" offers up this couplet:
"Jenny, Jenny, you're the girl for me.
You don't know me, but you make me so happy."
Lots of words begin with "h" and end with "y". Only one is a rhyme with "for me". The rhyme is not precise and the word is not radio-friendly. But the censors of the Seventies nodded. Let there be confetti.
If you like your music with a beer back, you'll like the 1995 cover of "Torn", by Ednaswap. The 1997 hit cover by Natalie Imbruglia upped the tempo and sharpened the edges, but it's otherwise a reading close to the earlier take. Second verse, lines five and six:
I don't care, I have no luck.
I don't miss it all that much.
By the time 1993 rolled in, original vocalist Lis Sorensen had no need to sublimate her anger, like "good-girl" singers from Judy Garland to Karen Carpenter. "... (A)ll that much" doesn't sound all that mad to me. I think I know what Sorenson was singing between the lines.
These blatant examples may create the impression that the only reason to use implication is to hide a profanity or an obscenity. That is not my argument. I argue many ways to express an R-rated sentiment. I argue many ways to use implication.
And I invite you to create a few examples in your own work.