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Three Word Wednesday



“First Date Jitters”

“I’ve said all along, and here’s where my thinking dovetails nicely with the reality of the current situation…”

“Which is?”

“The thinking or the current situation?”


“Well, the economic meltdown, crash, stumble, flame-out, you name it, that current situation.”

“Oh… I was wondering why this place was so empty.”

“Don’t you follow the news?”

“Not really. It’s all the same anyway. Opium for the rabble.”

“I think you mean ‘masses’.”


“Look, all I meant was that the current situation is based on systemic risk built into an economic model that rewards big thinking and bold initiatives. All this recession does is to validate the mandate that people are actually herd animals and prefer to follow someone with a strong personality.”

“Uh huh.”

“Let me show you. Let’s say this piece of steak is the president and these fries are the voters. Notice that the meat is rich and tender, lean yet flavorful. But the fries are all rigid, burnt and in disarray. They’ve been frozen, chopped and boiled in scalding oil.”


“Exactly! So what does the ‘steak’ do to placate the ‘fries’?”

“I have no idea.”

“He pours gravy all over them and they go away happy.”

“Are you going to eat those?”

By Rose D. Kaye, February 11th, 2009

A chance meeting

Where is the boundary between a tradition and an obsession? For Mr. Chandler the Sunday morning ramble through the Metropolitan Museum of Art – never the vulgar shorthand ‘The Met’ – was his time of pleasure; a way to lift himself above the plebeian duties of his workweek. As a fancied connoisseur of the arts – again, Arts was simple pretense – each successive Sunday was spent in rote study of different galleries. He always avoided the crush of the special presentations by purchasing private show tickets instead and attended these events alone on Friday evenings.

Being a confirmed bachelor had many advantages, not the least of which was companionship rather than shackles. Not that shackles were all bad he’d been know to pontificate, but not for one such as I. Mr. Chandler simply choose to spend his time, and money, on those activities that offered a tangible reward. For those that could not understand how the viewing of art could be rewarding, he had nothing but scorn. Art, was what separated Homo sapiens from the reptilian brain stem that was only interested in food and mating. Of course he did those things as well, [very well] and if pressed, Mr. Chandler would admit, in a torturous and belabored manner, that all art – in fact – ‘stemmed’ from that primitive and frightening portion of the ancient mind.

“Art? Is that you? Fancy meeting you here. I didn’t take you for a man of good taste and sophistication. Is this your first visit to the Met?”

By Rose D. Kaye, February 6th, 2009

Drama is overrated

Three Word Wednesday



If this were a movie, then I’d be sitting on a battered chair, in an unheated room, squinting in the guttering flicker of a candle stump while I crumple successive sheets of paper and then angrily throw them onto the floor. Writing takes commitment and the nerve to take chances at bringing your thoughts to life. Now that every illicit – and then some – deed can be found in the truly staggeringly enormous web of computer connections, the art of writing is both flourishing and dying.

Can a writer claim the mantle of starving if a computer is used?

Where is the struggle and conflict if spell-check corrects your draft? If Word formats for grammar? If with a click of the mouse every possible scenario is available for study?

I would state that the answer is still yes. I’m not starving by any means and the drama of crumpled paper is fiction because when a writer had to buy said paper it was too precious to waste. It is still yes even though I don’t have to resort to illicit gains in order to finance my obsession; merely push the on-button to activate the computer. Although, writing is still very, very hard on the nerves.

In many ways, writing in the modern computer age is more difficult than ever. Not only are there so many more distractions to overcome but because of the mechanical ease and with limitless resources available, failing to write something, anything, makes a writer feel unworthy of the title.

By Rose D. Kaye, February 4th, 2009