Presumably some things will change, as a process, as they have before and as they continue to do, no more or less for the digit's promiscuity. There are certain markers of change that are meaningless, such as the new year, and some that are meaningful, such as inauguration. People don't change because they start thinking about change. Change must be scheduled, planned and set into law for me to have any real hope that predictions of change will come true. That is, distinct change—when the slope changes, an asymptote or instantaneous acceleration or decceleration. It's rarely actually instantaneous but in these certain cases we can point to an instant that is meaningfully linked to this change.
Words come slowly, awkwardly, stork-like, tonight. Also my I think there's something stuck under my 'o' key. Well, I took it off and there wasn't anything there, but I put back on again and it seems to be working better now. I guess I'll write about writing again. About this, the point, the blog, etc. I'm not sure specifically what exactly the point is. Where does a block come from? Is it the ideas behind the words? The syntax of stringing the words together? The compositional problem of putting the ideas together? Or maybe the aesthetic problem of making them fit an acceptable form? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll think about it next time I'm stuck. There's a recipe for disaster. More things to distract myself with.
I'll be satisfied with four paragraphs, this length, tonight. Shouldn't take long except—damn you, Stork!—something's sticking. O, apostrophe! Assembly line isn't an apt metaphor but it's one I'll use. There are certain things that are just so applicable that they can be and are used as a metaphor for virtually anything. Assembly line, evolution, I'm sure there's a few more. I could make up a word for them. That's what people on blogs do, right? They make up words and then they say, this is the blog where this word was invented, and then they put up bilboards and product placement and plastic dinosaurs drinking coca-cola behind a silk-screened t-shirt that says 'the bell of the ball' and there's a picture of the liberty bell on it and then at the bottom it says 'my god! she's cracked!' and then on the back there's something completely unrelated.
Colostomy bag. That's a good metaphor. If I need a metaphor for something I want to make people think is icky I'll use that one. Like, Houston is a giant colostomy bag. I don't know if I'm even spelling that right. Oh well. Oh yeah, assembly line. There's something jammed on the assembly line and I'm not sure which station it's at: molding, fitting, quality control... the extension goes on. That was all that was at stake. If I used the evolution metaphor instead I would say, I don't know right now... it doesn't seem to fit as well. That puts a slight wrench in the works. I think it's pretty clear that sentences don't evolve before we spit them out. So I guess these aren't universal metaphors; they're just hyper-applicable and well known.
