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EAGANBLOG ARCHIVE
Explore the current collection.

Fluff Not
This Eaganblog marks my 400th, and in keeping with my promise that absolutely no one has asked for, I am taking a look back at what I have done here. As with my 100th, 200th, and 300th, I see mixed results.

First, the writing itself. Once again, I am way over my limit with modifiers — too many adjectives and adverbs are gumming up the works. All those multisyllabic words (see what I mean?) are just bumps in the road on the way to getting my message across. Come to think of it, there have been too many syllables, period. Best to keep it simple, in my view, but it seems that the temptation of syntactical fluffery is still too hard to resist. I resolve to do better. Perhaps better verbs will ameliorate.

My choices of subject matter have been pretty constant, but I am happy to report that I have backed off in the Politics category. (There are, in case you haven’t noticed, categories of blog that have been compiled from Eaganblog. Click on “Categories” to see them.) I don’t have a whole lot left to say, after all, about Drump and his enablers in Congress. All crooks, and not a sincere belief or redeeming human quality among them. I’d call them traitors, but that word has lost a lot of its meaning these days. Anyway, they are a collective blight we will have to endure until we can find the right disinfectant. As to their supporters among our fellow citizens? What the hell are we going to do with these people? When I come up with an answer — even a lame one — I’ll let you know.

Speaking of categories, I am generally happy with the Poems collection. A couple of clunkers in there, but they’re generally amusing in a goofy sort of way. Even the few serious efforts wear well when I go back and read them. There is still no “Epigrams” category, sad to say. I had originally imagined that I might generate a lot of those. But pairing brevity with genuine pith is easier said than done, and the high quality epigrams have just not been happening. I hope to rise to that challenge soon.

I am fond of the Big Picture category, though there haven’t been too many additions to it recently. My very first blog, back in 2012, was a Big Picture entry. Can it be that I have run out of fundamental ideas? Have I exhausted my supply of Truly Important things to say? Am I that shallow? Don’t answer that.

Before I go, one more question: punctuation? In a word, yes. Specifically, yes to parentheses, dashes, and hyphens. Some might say that I overuse these tools, but I have no apologies for those critics even if they don’t exist. I am, at heart, a prescriptivist when it comes to language, but I like the informal, conversational tone these marks can produce. This essay, for instance, has two sets of parentheses and several em dashes. No hyphens, though, at least until I label this an exercise-in-retrospective-self-indugence blog.

You see? Too much fluffery. Again.
Let Me Make My Position Clear
I have read with great interest the reference materials you have kindly sent to me.

Be assured that I have combed through this bibliography of source materials and found the sheer volume and density of your substantiations to be quite impressive. Likewise, I was moved by your choices of metaphor to illustrate your points and by the glittering prose you have employed to argue them. The precision and clarity of your exposition is flawless.

Furthermore, I have dared to follow your reasoning wherever it has led me, even into realms I never imagined I would travel. The journey has been enlightening and provocative — so much so, that I have been forced to give a lot of long, hard thought to your arguments. Allow me to acknowledge the strength, conviction, and thorough research you have given your conclusions.

That said, I still think you’ve got your head up your ass.
Nice to Meet You
Now that we’ve
Been introduced
And spoken
In such breadth
Of matters
Both profound
And inane

Now that we’ve
Been introduced
And have shared
In such depth
Our feelings
Both sacred
And profane

Now that we’ve
Been introduced
And bared our
Souls this way
I can ask
My dear friend
What's your name?
While She Is Away
I want to make clear right from the start that this is not a confession. I am confident that my mate understands, as a general proposition, that I will backslide in some areas of our marital compact while she is gone. As long as her world isn’t adversely affected, I know that I am pre-forgiven for such lapses. On the other hand, you might find some evidence of defensiveness here — even though I categorically deny that there is anything that needs defending.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking: he’s all alone and he’s living like an animal. Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. I am a grown man and fully capable of taking care of myself. Besides, she’s only gone for a few days.

Furthermore, no one will be harmed by my transgressions. Take, for instance, the matter of bed-making. As I have already made clear in this space, I consider this practice to be wasteful and redundant. And so, in keeping with this firmly held personal ethic, I do not make the bed during these periods of separation. The covers are a twisted clump now, just as they were when I got up. The bottom of the sheet is securely tucked (according to my specifications), but everything else is untouched. The purely decorative pillows remain on the floor and out of the way. They will not move again until it is absolutely necessary.

I am at ease with this state of affairs, even though it would be troubling to my mate. But she is far away, and this disarray in our boudoir cannot afflict her. Neither she, nor anyone else, is harmed. Similarly, if I happen to fart or belch with unusual gusto, I cannot be charged with rudeness because there is no victim to witness these displays.

There is a TV tray parked in front of my easy chair. It has not moved since her departure. Nor will it. My convenience level is just too high under this arrangement to justify folding it up and returning it to the closet. And yet, the Earth continues to spin on its axis, and the arc of the moral universe continues to bend toward justice.

The toilet seat, as you might expect, has stayed up. Unless, that is, I have just used it for its most profound function…or unless I have recently used my rest room as a place to sit and rest. I have no quarrel with the expectation that I always leave the seat down, but I prize this opportunity to ignore it. Furthermore, the energy I save will help in saving the Earth.

Notwithstanding these minor derelictions, things are still pretty tidy around here. The dishes get washed, though at a more leisurely, thoughtful pace. There is sweeping, sponging, and even some isolated instances of dusting.

And if I were looking to prove that I am not living like an animal, I would simply point to my efforts at sprucing. I will admit that sprucing does not constitute a large part of my home care bailiwick, but I am qualified in this area. I don’t claim that deep sprucing, such as the placement of fresh flowers or the rotation of table runners, is part of my portfolio; however, do I like to think of myself as a gifted straightener. Furthermore, I make sure all the drawers and cupboard doors are closed, too. This is largely a manifestation of my mild OCD, but it still counts as sprucing.

Sprucing, in fact, is one of the fundamental human qualities that sets us apart from the lower beasts. That, and the ability to modulate our farting. So there.
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Trump supporters are people who know what they believe.
~ JC, Bonny Doon