Wordsmith Hack: Garbanzo

Our dear words have their own purpose, and too often it seems we get in their way. They need a voice though, and someone needs to hear them. Yet they aren't good at saying much by themselves, and as a constituency they fail miserably. I would proclaim the next minute as National Word Minute, in honor of all words big and small. Let's give it up for our vehicles of lexicon to all that is sublime. They don't exist and then they are all that exists. They set all agendas, and resolve all conflicts. They determine all prescriptions, and weigh all conditions.

Words, they be the arbiters of rousing interjectory ventilation, and then so often the anathema of clear meditative introspection. In a word, they are utterly themselves.

The pen, we later find, isn't mighty at all. It's a weapon, but that weapon is wielded by no less than words. Less and less each day... The fine lost art of conversation took a ride to smallville and resides there in a condo where it will live out its retirement. The pension is good, the weather bearable and the neighbors keep to themselves.

Enter into the mist a syncopated social cyber camp to either raise the bar or put it low enough that no one notices. Moderns are able to distill linguistics down to their bare bones, relegating helpless terms to their lowest common denominators. Approximately 73% of all online jabberwocky bears this out in full felicity. The King's English takes on a beating, while ticking off any who hold in high esteem the finer points of communication.

As dialogue breaks down and turns into a more powdery form, the resulting effect is then a distancing of the participants. The eschewing of topical gum, while a fine shortcut for syllables, comes at a premium. It leads us away from those with whom we converse, providing the opposite of the intended effect. Straying from the substance of words, we in turn understand each other less.

A step above the micro-blog is potentially what you read presently in front of you. The mere fact of reading this extended rhetoric not at gunpoint qualifies you to be held above the fray, at least in theory, and if even temporarily it serves a purpose, as does writing it does for me. With that assumption, we'll be speaking frayless here.

Embodiment of Words
Some will find that running into bots at electronic pubs keeps the wheels turning, if that's really what wheels are to be doing. I like painting the bots so that they bring different meaning to me. One bot on my viewer takes on the characteristics of a fantasy world, to where I'm in the middle of an extended dream which lets me go out for a burger and come back unobtrusive. Other bots are dastardly, but they are only such as long as I want them to be, and then I can make them something else. Bots are servants in your honored kingdom.

Some bots are studies of psychoanalysis and may provide the most introspective of all portraits, reflecting, glowing, alive and performing on stage. I build a little play of miniature bots, which carry out their routines to perfection. Their roles are well-defined — our main objective is to further refine those definitions daily and keep them honed, for one never knows when a bot talent scout will be meandering by and notice.

For those not catching the nuances, we have reminders to scratch each other’s bots and receive credit for it. These bots iconoclastically indeed rule, though I've never determined whether they rule me. The schizophrenic have a field day with so many bots flying about. And those not qualifying can soon reach that pinnacle.

The semi-learned will conclude that the very best thing about bots is they are imaginary. They have real minds and real togas, but we can confine them to the abstract where they can merely brainwash us, so we get the absolute best of both worlds. I'll check in with my joke bot soon to get that much-needed comedic boost. Or should I find a rant bot next... So many decisions and so little bandwidth. So much of a kaleidoscope and so little to regard it in this brave old world.

Thus form follows function. The interaction of bots relies more heavily on verbiage than what history is used to, in part since the substantive has become more an oasis commodity.

The words, they will glorify and condemn us. They'll be the telltale sign of our arrival at the airport terminal, greeting us with a representative handwritten message. May they not skimp on the syllables, and despite all their kinetic energy may they be allowed instead of beating around the proverbial bush to say what they truly, emphatically mean.