Think the unthoughted.
Weatherman: is that a storm abrewin’ there? By Charles Bechtel When I post this, the initial occupation of Wall Street will have reached fifty days. I have three times addressed thoughts generated by the growing events, none that deal directly with the supposed purpose of those who wander into the crowds. I have not...
The Fear That Has No Name By Charles Bechtel He was big, his eyebrow at least a foot above the top of my head, broad as a highway, fists the size of Harley pistons, and yet there he was: frozen to the ground, shaking like puppy at the vets, veins in the neck throbbing,...
Must Love Cats! By Charles Bechtel There’s this tale about God creating dogs, among other animals. Sensing he was working himself up to a Masterpiece in Mud (Man,) in his all-knowing there was a notion that this Masterpiece would need a faithful companion, so he created Dog. Knowing as well he’d need infinite personalities...
Why We May Hate Our Jobs By Charles Bechtel For some reading, what I will discuss may be either a tempest in a teapot, or much ado about nothing. For some, however, especially those for whom aesthetics still has meaning, I may open minds to something heretofore considered. As I’ve said, value and valuation...
What Age of Reason? By Charles Bechtel A friend, driven to frantic excesses of expression, called to direct my attention to a singular noise coming from the back of her house. Her imitation, though obnoxious, failed, so she took her I-phone to the source and made me listen. It was a cricket. One cricket,...
Culture Is Dead. Those Damn Kids Ruin Everything. By Charles Bechtel Is it right to decry a change in cultural habit as the Death of Culture? Doing so is probable, because the more one ages, the more illiterate and uncivilized those younger appear. See a knot of twenty-somethings gazing raptly into an electronic device...
Books Kindle Imagination By Charles Bechtel The face of a young girl across the aisle on the darkened plane had a mild glow, a soft glitter in her rarely moving stare. Only her fingers moved, or more specifically: her thumbs, punching in the wee bumps of her Kindle keyboard. She had the rapt attention...
Patriotism, or Outrage By Charles Bechtel The cortege wends along the same streets the Fourth of July parade covers, but there is no cheering, only silence. Flags wave, but not from excited hands; these only wave because a breeze follows. There are fire trucks, but not a horn sounds, all engines are still. So...
Eat, Drink and Be Merry By Charles Bechtel Food: a thing eaten. In Spanish: comidas. I really like that Spanish word because it reminds me of comedy, which it should, since food and laughter often, when done right, go hand in hand. To this theatergoer, going off to eat and drink best follows a tragedy, but best precedes a comedy....
You Are What You Speak By Charles Bechtel Three word pairs that people commonly swap always jar my brain: May and Can, as verbs; the adjectives Less and Fewer; and the verbs Need andWant. Others, such as shall and will, and lay and lie,annoy, but their distinguishing characteristics split hairs so fine that dealing with them, or rather correcting their usage, is a fool’s errand. First, why give a poop? I blame my...
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