Curiosity ~ Lucidity ~ Humanity
Those who don’t pronounce the internal R are doomed to lose it forever: TuRmeric, people!
Local forecasters burble about the “temp’ature,” invert the R and T in “comf-terble,” and eschew the comparative altogether,
blundering through “more windy,” “more dry,” and “more warm,” which are all live nude utterances I have heard on the air.
Elsewhere around the dial, home cooks in competitions explain their use of “maRscapone,” this moving R marring the cheese.
Back to the news: After killer whales attacked yachts in Spanish waters, our newscaster squinted at “orcas” on the teleprompter
and cautiously said aloud “okras.” Those slimy okras, they really bite my boat!
Fresh off the mo’ning’s butcheries, I head to my favorite public bench at noon, these times so without qualities,
there to solemnly observe the regular, the reliable, the ding-dong diddley-daddy daily promenade of unthinkable, unspeakable,
of unwatchable things.
Bio-Fragment of Harrison Fisher: "I just entered my seventies. I feel like I’m doing my best work, which I suspect is the way most of my fellow oldsters feel about their work. Besides, we’re readily willing to concede our decrepitude and our failing memories, so at least grant us the illusion of advancement. I intend to continue improving until I become great, which, if I have to do that posthumously, I will."