Right now I have a bit of headache. I am not sure why. I have spent the last few hours ingesting copious amounts of sugary brown stuff that is frequently called chocolate. I say that it’s frequently, and not always, called chocolate because one time when I was twelve a lady from my church brought me an easter bunny that had all the appearances of chocolate except for the packaging said that it was chocolate flavoured (note the “u” in flavour - it’s because I am not an American) confection and chocolate flavoured (there’s that “u” again) confection, well, just isn’t chocolate. When the lady who brought me the chocolate flavoured confection handed me her very thoughtful gift I remember being happier than I should have been because I was a chubby little kid that liked his chocolate and chips much more than his exercise and vegetables. Anyways, I was happy about the chocolate-looking-stuff but by the time the lady had gone home to cook supper or something like that, and I had read the packaging I was less than joyous about the chocolate bunny not being real chocolate. So it goes.
For the most part, nothing I just said has anything to do with why I have a headache, and, since the headache isn’t that bad, I will write a few more paragraphs.
My wife encouraged me to write a blog. She started this blog a while ago and alot of our friends read it and some of our friends don’t. I like her blog and I think she is a good writer and I like to write and I want to be a good writer so I was thinking that maybe, if I write a little something for her blog now and again I will get a little better at writings. By the way, I love my wife.
Most writing is good writing when the author has something important to write. I always think I have something important to write until I write and re-read what I have written and realize most people aren’t interested in things like the multi-dimensional and extremely exciting world of tasting coffee, or the precise humidity level for aging tobacco, vintage fountain pens or the ideal method for shearing sheep, etc. (I was joking about the shearing sheep) Most of these things I find interesting most of the time but the other times I like to read books written by dead white guys, not because they are dead or white but usually they just write the best stuff. All of that was to say that the most interesting things that I can come up with are not really that important or interesting. I have a friend who is like me in that he likes stuff that not a lot of other people like but maybe he is just more intelligent. Maybe he is one of our friends who don’t read this blog.
I know that the past few paragraphs have been largely contructed with run-on sentences. I think that is okay because I recognize they are run-on sentences and am making them run-on sentences intentionally. Yes, it’s difficult to follow, but at least you can rest assured that the disorder in my writing is intentionally disorderly. It’s kind of like that song by Sufjan Stevens on the Illinoise album, something about a Shadfly. In the song the music is pretty mellow but there is this one solo guitar that sounds out of sync with the rest of the song and so the song sounds bad. I have a friend who goes to the University and Ottawa, he is really smart with artistic stuff and he said that the point of the song is “disorder for the sake of disorder.” Once he told me that about the song I wanted to listen to the song again and while I was cringing with every wrong note I was smiling and thinking about the purpose behind the disorder. Purpose is a good thing, but if I say anything more about purpose I would be coming dangerously close to moralizing and I’ve heard people don’t like that.
A couple weeks ago Rob Bell released a book about Hell. I know it’s supposed to be about more than that but everyone only wants to talk about that part of it. He asks a lot of questions and so now he is heretic and I don’t really care too much about whether or not Rob Bell is liked or isn’t liked, or if his booked is liked or isn’t liked. Anyways, I have been reading some of Rob Bell’s new book about Hell and have been thinking a lot about Hell and I hope that nobody goes to Hell. I hope I am not a heretic for hoping that.
I need to start studying now that I am finished writing this blog and I might write a another blog when it’s raining or something.
mr. hartin
