A funny thing about writers of my acquaintance; a character observation based upon nothing more substantiated than my own observation and suppressed experience as a young wannabe auteur. I recognise writers to be affable gadabouts with an eloquent silver slipperiness plied more in the service of avoiding common work than in anything close to articulating the human condition - unless it is their own, of course. The verisimilitude extends to simile: surrendering the bar to an alcoholic to receive an expert opinion of what's on tap comparative to asking the daydreamer to pronounce life's meaning. Even given my experience as a middle-aged adult, I am still confident that in the everyday world an alcoholic would be turned out were he to use such an obvious trope. Yet writers, a group in the main comprised of middling talents like myself, use this trope with great success. This personal observation accounts for both my decision to pursue a career other than writing as a young man and my aversion to stake my financial well being now as a matured man on the notion that the pen is mightier than a general accounting course. Yet here I am publishing my own daydreams on the most irresponsible and pornographic medium ever created, The Internet.
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