7 - l - e - t - t - e - r - s Options

[*CrackedRearView*]

"Life goes on" as the trudgers say,
Those words penetrate skin with the effectiveness of something 'sharp' falls tragically short of.
And so it is -- the rhetoric of the pundit stands,
Oh, the world loves the opinion of the omniscient pundit.
Metaphorically, and prototypically prancing around James Cameronesque,
With his three piece suit, and aristocratic musk.
Almighty pundit, wherefore does your opinion mask the emotions of the mass?
Amidst tragedy, murder, destruction, and defeat, somehow your rhetoric stands --
Life
goes
on.
And so it is, and so it does:
As grandmother would say, 'take it with a grain of salt'.
I like to consider grandmother a few notches down on the punditry heirarchy, but a pundit nevertheless.
And so it is, and so I do:
I take millions dead, and millions missing with that ever synthetic grain of salt,
I ensonce it in a crack in the foundation of my emotional stability, for later access.
Perhaps, so that later, away from the white hot spotlight of societal stigma, I might fall off of the proverbial wagon.
Perhaps, so that later, characteristically on my own, I might weep a well deserved weep.

................................................................

Look at its intensity -- as I watch victim-captured footage I can do nothing but gaze, aghast:
As it rises above the horizon at such monstrous rates, the pundits scatter:
Frantic, 'checking their calculations', blaming everyone but themselves, uttering 'this can't be right!'
Personified, everything designed to destroy my 'faith' has been channeled into this video clip as a boxer,
A 300-lb. boxer with intent for a TKO; the struggle ensues:
Fatal blow to the mouth, out for the count.

..............................................................

I often wonder if 'connotation' was a word invented before the realization came into place,
The realization that seven specially arranged letters could boil someone's blood.
Seven letters: t - s - u - n - a - m - i.
Somehow I just can't bring myself to listen to the pundits.
I can't 'go on'.
I can't down a helping of salt.
I have to box with the ogre.
I'm obligated to fight for my faith.
But how difficult it is: how incredibly onerous.

...........................................................

Does anyone know where that cameraman is shooting reel from?
Anyone have a tab on where that reporter is delivering his oration from?
Anyone know where the corporate office to m - e - d - i - a is located?
Oh, thank you so much for your help, ma'am...I just have a few questions for the executives:

It shouldn't take long.

.........................................................

I stand before you respected ladies and gentleman with a handful of questions, but I'd only like to ask one.

So go on -- sigh in relief. I'm not here to ruin your careers; not here to sanction the station you happen to represent; not here to take your money.

Just answer this with as much infallibility as you can humanly muster:

How many people have to die until sympathy and emotion are allowed?

[rOckThISshYt]

Damn man... I thought I had a high reading level for my age. But... I just can't keep up. lol.

But, I'm sure whatever it is must be damn good.

[*CrackedRearView*]

Yeah I apologize for that...

[CRAZEDindian40]

You got some good stuff, I really like it cuz it's deep and meaningful.

[inthemudhole]

Wow.
That was really great, Justin.
Very deep.
Excellent job.