Two Spaces

That's what I've been talking about.  The way other people make friends, I make these posts.  They just happen.  Of course I proofread, but they are essentially first drafts, self-organized because I am a poet and my soul does the work, mostly.  The craftsman, or is it artisan, steps in and switches out some words, say scratching for clawing, and I may come back and add a sentence, for clarity (if you can believe it) or because it makes me laugh.  

I give attention to punctuation -- some of this can be complex, and I don't want to lose you.  I don't care if you have to work at it.  As I leave it, it can be followed.  That's punctuation -- the X that marks the spot.  Because (if you are still lazy and want it spelled out) these are treasure maps.  Coded, secret writing, moonlit.  

No, of course not.  I'm just a guy playing with words, jiggling meaning and giggling meanly.  

There you are, tied naked to a tree trunk, your arms bowed back in a reverse embrace, your legs also pulled back, feet off the ground -- four limbs immobilized, by wire because it's more cruel.  Your head is immobilized.  You look like a dancer's leap, frozen, suspended.  The moon is full.

I approach, smiling benignly, as angelic as a face like mine can be.  I carry a small satchel, pull out a syringe.  "This is to keep you from going into shock," I explain conversationally.  "Boop, just a little prick."  You make pleading sounds through the gag.  I smile reassuringly, and take out a second syringe.  "This one is for the pain."  Your eyes grow even rounder, and roll like a horse's.  This amuses me, and I chuckle -- it is not a giggle.  "Yes.  For the pain.  To make it worse," and I laugh again good-naturedly.  

I take a scalpel from the satchel, and explain helpfully, "When they're sharp enough, there's really no pain to speak of for a moment."  The bright moon reflects off the blade.  "I don't prefer rough cuts, gashes.  Clean slices absorb the chemicals faster.  It's a common fallacy -- people think it's skin that hurts.  Skin is just a way to get deeper."

It's important to be courteous, because resentment is not a passive emotion.  It's patient. But we get better at the things we practice.  Take typing.  Two spaces after a period, period. Practice and it's a habit.  The convention changed with the rise of the machines.  The computer geeks had to teach themselves how to type, and they didn't learn the rules.  So now it's one space.  Like they said dot instead of period, 'dot' com.  They didn't know any better, and they think they know what they're talking about.  But it's like when everyone eats garlic, and they don't notice the stink.  

One young authority, no more a fool than any other, said two spaces looked like a whole lot of white on the, well, screen.  Your screen is not white.  It wasn't an intelligent observation, but that is the nature of opinion.  The second space carries meaning, creates a logical and easily processed visual field.  Two spaces aid understanding.  Single spaces separate words, double spaces separate sentences -- because there's a difference between words and sentences.  The way lines separate paragraphs, not sentences.  Easy, stupid.  

I am now wrong and obsolete, but I'll change only for money.  I wouldn't argue about it, because it's self-evident, and being too right creates resentment.  I want the world to be more harmonious, and beautiful.

Funny, what makes us laugh.

J