What was I thinking?
I wonder if the citizens of New York will ever get sufficiently wroth
To remember that Tammany cooks spoil the broth.
I mentioned that I always keep a notepad close at hand to jot down random thoughts. All these might not work out, turn into poems or posts, but at least they are set down for later consideration. At least, that is the theory. What happens is, a couple of lines written encapsulating what you thought was the crux of the matter, the absolute heart of the idea, become meaningless when read a few days later.
In this notepad I have a page with the brilliantly original title, post ideas. Reading the notes, a couple of lines or a phrase, I am mystified. I have no idea what these jottings mean, how I was planning to develop the thoughts or why I thought it worth writing them down. Some I can figure out, some are too cryptic, and some are downright silly.
Across the pale parabola of joy: I remember the Psmith novel, of course, but I don't recall why I wrote down that hilarious first line of the poem Psmith tries to read, and in what context. Or was it going to be a post title?
S'il vous plaît, Madame: If I please what, and why in French?
Tenser calculus, yeah! This cryptic note to self is incomprehensible. What was it about?
Like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear which will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely. Psalm 58 Verse 4: What was I going to write about? I wish I could remember. How was I going to use this?
Tenser, said the tensor: At last, something that makes sense. I know what this was going to be about. On ear worms- snatches of songs or poetry that lodge themselves in your brain and refuse to vacate. On James Joyce… 'beside the rivering waters of, the hithering and thithering waters of Night…' and all that. I was going mention Alfred Bester and The Demolished Man,
and why advertising jingles employ musical cliches.
"Eight, sir; seven sir;
Six, sir; five;
Four, sir; three, sir;
Two sir; one!
Tenser, said the Tensor.
Tenser, said the Tensor.
And dissension have begun."
Love tepid water? Scan hob. Gmail: It's an anagram of 'a watched pot never boils'. But what was I going to write about? Where does Gmail come into it?
Same old, same old: I think this was a grouse about blog aggregators linking to the same few bloggers all the time.
"No comment." Was this another grumble? Moaning about how I don't get any comments? Or was it something else?
The gliding vowel. Rain, voice, aisle, height: A diphthong is called the gliding vowel, but what more can I say about it? And why those examples? What was it about?
Prudence: Says another note, tersely and cryptically. I wish I had been prudent and elaborated on that word. Now I am going crazy trying to remember.
Invest in machines, I state: Another anagram post idea, I think. A stitch in time saves nine, but I have no idea how I was going to develop this.
But what flummoxes me is this: 32+42=52 ROTFL. What on earth was I thinking of when I jotted that gem down?