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TGR, Gutenberg, Rubric

March 2015

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60s #

Five words

This was given to me by xjenevivex ages ago and I promised to answer. Sorry it has taken me so long to put together, but thank you for including me in this little exercise. She gave me five words to respond to. Here are the results.

Dragon. Inside there lives a beast. It is inscrutable, and because it is so unreadable, it is a little frightening. Okay, a lot frightening. It doesn't seem to matter that it lives there, is comfortable there, and would be terribly missed if it wasn't there. It is still frightening. As much as possible, I ignore the beast inside. If you don't look, it isn't there. But occasionally, late at night, I find myself at the dragon's cave, coaxing it with bits of my soul, thinking that this time I might get close enough to feel its incendiary breath, to touch its scaly hide, to embrace it as the real me it professes to be. Steven George & The Dragon

Detective. I'm not really that clever. In fact, the obvious is often directly in front of me for days before I wake up thinking I've made a great discovery. After further consideration, I ask myself how I could have been so blind as not to see the clues that were planted by a power much cleverer than me waiting for me to follow them. I'm often the last to know, yet I seem to know so much more. Municipal Blondes

Ceremony. It may seem to you like it is just a cup of coffee. What can be so complicated? You pour it, you drink it. But first you need to grind the beans. Fresh roasted, as dark as they can be without being burned. Fine enough to slow the drip through the filter, but not so fine as to clog its pores. You need to get the balance right between the caffeinated and the decaffeinated grounds so you get a little lift without being so buzzed and shaky you can't function. The water is poured over the grounds slowly. A splash to let them swell, then a constant drip to just half an inch below the edge of the filter, and held at that level by pouring the steaming water slowly. The cup is not just any cup. It is a thick restaurant-style mug that holds a perfect eight ounces of heaven. You lift it to your lips. The aroma is a prayer. The first sip is a halleluja. And then you breathe. Security & Exchange - I've got a secret

Spirituality. It's not a law. There is no book of rules with sufficient authority to cover what you believe - no bloody-minded gods threatening eternal retribution to control your actions. It is not in the words that are spoken, or written, but in the simple gesture of kindness - awareness that you are not alone. Spirituality is not in your isolation, but in your connectedness to all things living. Ritual Reality

Press. What an anachronism! It's a concept from a bygone era. Put ink on paper? Hardly. Electronic bits fly across screens at nanosecond speeds, and still we call it the power of the press. Here is the real secret. The secret of immortality. We live on in what is remembered. That is it. That is everlasting life. If I scribble notes on a napkin, write in a journal, type my pages in triplicate, run 42" webb presses, or flash ebook bits to readers, I have achieved immortality for precisely as long as someone remembers what I have left. The library is not simply a repository for the accumulated knowledge of humanity, but is a memorial garden for those who have written the words. Long Tale Press Remembers When
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Comments

This was absolutely fabulous. Thank you so much for these. I've read some of them before, but in different context, so it was great to read with a focus.

If you feel so inclined, I'd love to do this little exercise, as well. :)
I'm happy to oblige.
  • Ink

  • Ministry

  • Commitment

  • Roleplay

  • Graphic


Edited at 2009-08-20 04:35 pm (UTC)
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