Ears are like mouths and brains are like stomachs.
We should, you and I, be careful what we take in.
That should be enough.
A warning is a warning.
Then the tide comes in and brings another ship full of contraband.
So tempting to take what we want.
Fill our guts with wine.
I’ve spent days having interesting thoughts. I’ve woken from sleep to find that my dreams have been more interesting still. I read books; watch movies and ingest the cream of the cream of crops grown in fields of sunshine and shit. No disrespect intended. Shit is good. Nutritious and delicious. If you’re a plant.
Let me explain:
There’s me (and by ‘me’ I mean you too) as a box into which …
You get the idea?
I have Grammarly installed as an extension to this internet browser. It watches me like God should. It sees the mistakes I make and it underlines them in red to tell me that my spelling or my grammar could do with a little work. It underlines other, deeper issues in another colour and then tells me that if I pay it money it will tell me about them. Maybe God is more like the other colour. Maybe I will only get told about those mistakes if I subscribe to the Hold Church of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Or maybe not.
Tell me something, God.
What?
Anything.
Grammarly tells me about my writing, but who (or what) is telling me about my life? Where are the filters on my mouth and ears? What? Me? I am a filter? My own common-sense is the filter? (common-sense is underlined and the suggestion is that I should change it to common sense). Well, ain’t that a humdinger (if you describe someone or something as a humdinger, you mean that they are very impressive, exciting, or enjoyable unless, of course, you’re being sarcastic in which case it means the opposite. I’m being sarcastic)!
I should live my life inside brackets. My life should be an aside. A snide remark or a snarky …
But you get the idea.
No?
You don’t?
Okay, then what I mean is that I find that the most interesting things (sometimes) are those inside brackets in text. They (mostly) tell the real truth. They are the interjections of my mind telling me to explain or modify the main thrust of the sentence. They are ‘my mind’ as the ‘God’ of ‘my sentences’.
Hey, here’s a thought: interjections do not originate in my mind but they are arrows that fly through my mind from the bow of God into the target of a bracket.
Here’s something I read on the internet (www.contrastsecurity.com):
“Code injection is the term used to describe attacks that inject code into an application. That injected code is then interpreted by the application, changing the way a program executes.”
The idea of God injecting code into my mind. Not as an attack but as a defence. Defence against my vulnerability to all those things out there that want to get through my mouth and ears into my stomach and brain.
— everything after this point speaks from unexplored territory —
Yay for that!
A subtle defence.
A quiet filter.
Who knew!
Robert C Day 