Did he really say that?

The kind of humor I like is the thing that makes me laugh for five seconds and think for ten minutes = GEORGE CARLIN...Stained glass, engraved glass, frosted glass–give me plain glass = JOHN FOWLES...Music is the mathematics of the gods = PYTHAGORAS...Nothing is more fluid than language = R.L.SWIHART

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Delusions of Grandeur




I am not a name dropper. I do not drop names. I smash them against the wall...

The words are mine and they also appear on the homepage of this blogsite, therefore I am repeating myself. Humans have the inalienable right to repeat themselves but can only do so after actually saying something. Otherwise it is all just blah-blah woof-woof.

Humans also have the inalienable right to dream and I am about to exercise that constitutional right:
I am doing a review in the middle of Blogsylvania and someone is looking over my shoulder, reeking of gin but I am honored by his presence.

That someone–photographed above–is F. Scott Fitzgerald. You may know him as the author of The Great Gatsby but you will know him much better in the very near future because Leonardo Dicaprio, in addition to portraying Scott Fitzgerald in an adaptation of The Beautiful & The Damned (under development), will be starring as Jay Gatsby in yet another film version of The Great Gatsby.
As of May 19, 2012, that movie is in post-production.

That paragraph is pure fact but let's get back to my Blogsylvanian dream. Scott Fitzgerald–aka FSF–is pointing out some of my blogposts and saying things like, "Hey, that's not bad."
I occasionally hear him chuckle which, of course, is magnified by his gin-soaked aura.

But there's a second part to this dream, featuring Mr. Fitzgerald and myself but it takes place outside of Blogsylvania. Again, he is looking over my shoulder to a particular page on Amazon.com.
"Click to look inside" he says. And so I click.
Silently but slowly, he reads some of the poems therein. Silently but quickly, he reads through some of the others. After reading the last poem, he clicks back to the one entitled SCAVENGER HUNT. He stays on that page for what seems an eternity.
"I've got it memorized, thank you."
"You are very welcome, Scott."
"Now that is a writer worth stealing from!"
He repeats that statement five times. Once for each glass of gin he drank.
And then the dream ended.




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