Tuesday, June 05, 2012

Genius at work


I am a genius, there is little doubt about that.  Well, not in my mind anyway.  The proof is in the pudding they say, but as I am lacking nearby tapioca I offer this humble evidence of my superior intellectual right stuff:  I have figured out how to increase the font size on this blog!  You see, prior to this very moment I have had to write my recent blogs on my word program and then cut and paste them to Monkeymind because the font on my Inspiron mini computer while writing on the blog was so small that I was unable to see it clearly as I wrote.  The drawback to this technique, as you can see from the blog that precedes this one,  was that when I pasted, paragraph breaks were eliminated.  But aha, no longer! Thanks to my aforesaid genius which I will now attempt to qualify
even though you will no doubt say quit being humble Zendoc, if you got it flaunt it. Sure you will say that, won't you?  Modesty, of course, along with my genius, good looks and winning personality is one of my more noticeable traits.  That said, I have to tell you now that the way I managed the incredible achievement of creating a larger font was in most part sheer accident.  As other geniuses of my stature, like Einstein, for instance, would note if you asked them, fortuitous accidents are the byproduct of trying.  I was, in fact, stumbling about in Template, Settings, Design, and other such cryptic sections of the blog while giving the font growth a go, and, as usual, for this was not the first time, I was confronting abject failure which is, as everyone knows, far worse than regular, ordinary failure, although I had managed to enlarge the font on existing blogs, a totally unnecessary eventuality, when amidst the cursing both sailors and geniuses would be proud of, I had the good sense to throw in the towel, throw up my hands and throw out the one phrase common to all we proud losers from Robert E. Lee to Hirohito to Sarah Palin.  I said, "Fuck it, I quit."  It was at that moment, while hitting my back off arrow on the top left hand part of my computer to escape from just the right screen, a little obsessive I know, that I came to the page on which I was to start a whole New Blog.  There, where I swear it had never been before, was the word "compose" in a little gray rectangle. When I clicked on that, guided indubitably by my subconscious genius, a tool bar appeared that included, can you believe this, a tab for font size! The choices were small, normal, large, very large and largest.  Though largest was tempting, modesty again prevailed and you are now reading large while admiring my genius.


If only I now had something to write about.





Monday, June 04, 2012

More Rain? I Think Not.

I want to talk about rain. Not the fairies tripping the light fandango on your rooftop kind, gentle white noise at worst, but rather the lake turned upside down on your head, how much louder can it get kind that has been a regular visitor to our Boquete clime of late. A truck falling from a height and coming to rest next to your ear would roughly produce the same sort of noise, but for a much briefer duration. I'm talking drown out the rock concert, can I hear myself think decibel levels, and how much water is that anyway? A lot. I like to watch it from a window. What I can see of it, that is. It rains so densely that individual drops are not visible. The normally colorless air becomes a uniformly thick gray and if it were not for the white splashing where rain meets solid surface and those places where water collects and then runs off in rills to a final destination somewhere downward, the whole show would be nearly invisible, its grayness and wake up the dead noise the only tells. Unless, of course, you wander out into it to demonstrate either “a momentary lapse of reason” or that you actually have an answer to the question, "What the hell were you thinking?" In either of those scenarios you will find that a single second from shelter is all that’s necessary to inspire old saws like "soaked to the bone" and "mad as a wet hen." So why, you are asking, why am I writing about the weather? Good question, for which I have no ready answer. Oh sure, there are things on my mind, but not things to write about; small worries, anticipations good and bad, day to day blather. No one, I suspect, really wants to hear them unless I make them funny or more than what they are; a thing I’ve been often wont to do in the past, but not of late. I need a topic to expound upon, poke fun at, construct or take apart. (I could have said deconstruct for that last, but that’s a word that needs to be deconstructed itself and thrown on an ash heap of burned academic puffery.) See, there you go, that’s what I’m talking about. Give me something I can go off on and make me a slap happy keyboard camper. What I’m saying here is that I need suggestions. Por favor. Otherwise, it’s just more rain.