I recently received a little black notebook for my birthday. The notebook is empty. It's still all white pages...a few scribbled notes: shopping lists and driving directions.
I awoke this morning to find somebody flipping through its pages and I was filled with such intense annoyance at that. I felt violated and disregarded. How dare you peek at my blank pages?
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Dinty W. Moore (yes, that's his real name) edited a book of "Sudden Stories" for Mammoth Press. I thought of it when I read this piece. It would fit right in. The last line, with it's accusation (not "how dare you invade my privacy" or "It's the principle, don't you know?") hits hard. Kind of like when I ask my husband, "What are you thinking?" and he says, "Nothing, really," and I wonder what he would say if he could say anything...only to find out he's telling the truth. Not a good analogy. Better would be maintaining the air of mystery, of secrecy, only to be found out that our biggest secret is that we have none.
Regardless, I think the piece is brilliant.
I'll have to add him to my ever expanding reading list. (I need to remind myself to actually make a physical copy of that list, too. Lol)
That was very kind of you, thanks.
If you're into philosophy & religion, you might want to read something he's actually written. I just finished The Accidental Buddhist, recommended by my mentor, I think to lighten me up a bit. It's funny, is a quick read, and has a nice, simple overview of the different kinds of Buddhism from a non-Buddhist point of view.
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