Words

Dear Diary,

Like the poetry of love juxtaposed with 'a good hard seeing to' words come cheap. The greatest sonnets ever writ are relegated to a banality that belies modern mode. Music. That and painting, sculpture, are the true art forms that are quite rightly exalted on high. One may write and write and write and it will never be as popular as the sweet sound of someone skilfully plucking a melody, a tune. A picture too, speaks a thousand words, and if this be true - which it is - then all one's labours at scrivvening are... for nought. Would that Shakespeare or Marlowe be resigned to the rear of some dusty second hand book shop, the complete works bought for less than the price of a beer...

So. Everyone nowerdays is a writer. Not everyone. I have met students who, while being superb literary critics, hath not the imagination to put pen to parchment. The rest? A sea of wannabe writers are brushed aside by a higher art-form, that takes more than the ability to use a typewriter, however cleverly or poetically the prosaic words be arranged. Words, are too long winded. People's attention spans are shorter now. The lack of hits on the video below are testament to this claim...

On a lighter note, I had a relitively enjoyable evening watching Palin's "Ripping Yarns". Most amusing. Good night Russia, America, and you too OT: sausage side.

Maxx.