Wednesday 20 June 2018

Choice Words (c) By Michael Casey

Choice Words (c)
By
Michael Casey

As my readers are busy with the World Cup I was wondering what should I do to attract them back, though I know only as the World Cup proceeds will my readers return. There's Loyalty for you. So how can I choose words to impress my readers, to entice, to tempt them back. I am not a model so a post with a picture of me naked attached to it would not work. Maybe only with Morticians.

So how can I write a swimming pool as the Beatles once said. BBC Radio documentaries told me that, so if you are reading this Paul and I'm wrong feel free to pop around with some groceries and I'll put the kettle on. As I was saying, before there was a knock on the door, it was the pest controller, said his name was Paul something. But he did leave me some vegan burgers, which I'll give to the cat later. Anyway where was I, I almost lost myself then, lost and found that's me, I need a label, a record label.

So how do you choose your words to inspire your readers, or impress your listeners, ok I just recite each new piece to my daughters before they are allowed to watch the 100th episode of Gilmore Girls. Some words are easy, like A level Maths for Arabs, they did invent Maths after all. Other words are hard, like cooking for the French, isn't that right Macu, or should I call you Mr President. He has forever lost his Dignity now with that reply.  Mr President, that'll come back to haunt you. It's always best to be humble and be given the best seats at the wedding if you remember your Bible. Now you'll be attacked for demanding all your trappings, you fell into a trap of your own making there, Macu. 

I was once at Chinese church a decade or more ago, and everybody but everybody had a PhD, Drs galore. I looked over at a guy in thick black specs cleaning out the dustbins, is he a PhD too I asked? No, he's a Professor was the reply, it was Andrew Chan.  HE is now a chancellor at a University in Australia I believe. So Macu, you could learn a lot from him. Titles mean nothing, it's humanity that counts.

But back to choice of words, children love a bit of alliteration, it's like scratching a dog's ear. Personally I think those who cannot write alliterate, same goes for cursing and sex. If you cannot write throw a bedroom scene in, or have lots of cursing. I have comedy sex, or rather comedy innuendo and metaphor swearing in what I write. I hope its funnier. Have you seen the size of my punctuation, it's bigger than Trump's hands. Whatever that is supposed to mean, but you are smiling as you read it, so I get the laugh.

As Gill from Stats MR  used to say, Michael you lead them up the garden path, well only as far as my pansies, but be careful of my thorny bush, it'll cut you to ribbons. You look so nice with a ribbon on, thank's mum, I'm going to play rugby it's to keep the  hair out my eyes while I play hooker. The cheek of him calling me mum, I know I look like my mum but calling me mum. I know I am wearing my mum's old smock, but calling me a woman. He's a useless hooker anyway, ribbon or no ribbon, he can never get his leg over the oval balls quick enough.

See I digressed into Round the Horne style of radio, you can turn your knobs on your crystal set and find it and compare, am I just a counterfeit Julian and Sandy, more Julian than Sandy. Or am I just confusing you?    Or have you realised as I did that in this mode I am Ronnie Corbett's  and Joyce Grenfell's bastard son. You absorb everything, for me that'd be 50 years plus of  love of words, then when you write, only then you discover what your style is. By osmosis I am  that bastard son, I'm not copying, it's just the way it is. Just as we inherit traits from our parents, such as cross dressing and shaving my legs in the kitchen sink, in the same bowl as we use for the washing up. See I've put another cartoon in your brain, the sick bucket is to the left of the computer.

Pause, while I put the fish fingers on. Left of field arrives on the page, because I have to answer my stomach. It rumbles, I burp, then I make food then I fart. The usual merry go round of love, of love of food that is. By being open to the reality of real events, was that pretentious enough for your Journalists out there? In other words background noises are added to the page and  form structure to the piece. am I really getting pretentious now? Or in plain English I pick things up, like a thief and use them in a variety of different ways.

Some people don't think they just pass through like shadows having no form or substance, just like reality tv people really, so they never notice or observe or even feel anything. They are too busy smoking the newly legal drugs, which means my job is to point things out and ask have you seen things this way or that way. Rather like a naked contortionist, again a horrid picture of me in your brain

For those who might miss the joke, deliberately or not. By putting myself forward, maybe the Elephant amongst men, the ludicrousness  of it is enhanced. I am the original ugly duckling so to speak, so it magnifies the idea. Just as when I reveal myself as a writer to some people they don't believe it. HIM, he's a security guard or bouncer at a nightclub. You wrote that, as they look at me as if I'm pooh stuck to their shoe.

So its's nice when I get a good or big reaction from my choice of words, for this story or that story. It means I've made people laugh and sometimes think at the same time. It's when we stop thinking and allow others to do it for us that we get bad politicians everywhere, who can ruin our countries and all our lives.

Now the previous sentence is a good end point, but I've continued because my fish fingers are not quiet ready, see I have my priorities, stomach first,words second, after I've had my seconds of fish fingers. A good end point is always best, and sometimes the circle of words leads you right back to where you have started. Or  you can end with a  joke. Like my circle was finding a new shop that sold even cheaper fish fingers, fish fingers made into words. So you could choose your words while you ate your fish fingers. None of you saw that coming, not unless you use sonar for your own words










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