I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Thursday, February 14, 2013

The Infinite Monkey Postulate

"Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your gripixlemate quenterian."

Just one more monkey at one more keyboard.

Did you ever wonder why writers tell wannabe authors that to write you must put butt in chair and hands on keyboard? I mean, it sounds good, right? You gotta write to be a writer and you really can't "write" if you're not in the chair and pounding away at the keyboard. But did you ever think there could be another reason? A nefarious reason?

Like maybe gambling that you, sitting at your own desk pounding on the keyboard are not that "one more monkey". That the millions upon millions of wannabe writers sitting at their own desks pounding away at their own keyboards every day aren't the ones who even get the "Friends" part out. See, nothing really says that the infinite monkeys need to be in the same place for the effect to happen.

There ain't a coffee shop big enough. You know what I'm saying?

But if they, the cabal of infinite monkeys, can convince enough other monkeys to hammer away on the keys in their own place, they, the secret cabal members, might cannel the universe and become that infinite monkey able to hammer out the modern version of Julius Caesar.

Another sinister brain worm is the saying that "you have to write a million words of crap" first before you can get anything good. What better way to keep those "infinity minus one" monkeys continuing to type? The wannabe writers at their keyboards continue to soak up the almost infinite waves of authorial suckitude like some sort of literary wetlands so those of the cabal can lurk on the fringes and drink the freshened waters of art.

It's a mug's game I tell ya. All designed and perpetrated by that secret cabal of infinite monkeys to channel their own muses and soak up the precious few infinite monkey slots and become successful authors… all due to the other "infinity minus one" monkeys' hard work. Not to mention all the keyboards that are pounded into dust to perpetrate the social fraud that is the basis of their success.

Just a thought. Sleep well.

If I ever become a successful author I'm going to have to get a t-shirt that proclaims me that infinite monkey and wear it to all the cons, signings, and author appearances.

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