Friday, July 11, 2008

Inquisitions of the Indigent


Dear Reader(s),
Here marks the incipient entry in an undertaking so mind-bendingly epic and far-reaching in its own pretentiousness that even Miley Cirus, bereft of company in her swedenborgian-space station, may feel the ripples as this baby makes impact with existence. A galvanized kick in the hinder brings insensate thought sentience, muscles to rip down prejudice and myopia, inspiration to lift torpid souls, and the sweet scent of intelligence to dispel the tepid miasma of apathy. Yes, dear reader(s), I am setting my pen fingers to paper keys and creating a material frankenstein from immaterial thought. It's large, incoherent, and hates fire.

Now that I have spent all of my creative force employing various vocabularies (which I have been cajoling into my flaccid lexicon) into this staggering work of heavy-hearted genius

thank you Anberlin, and whomever you were quoting

I am spent.

1 comment:

little miss erika said...

five gold stars, sam cannon. good luck in your blogging quest.

p.s. have you read a heartbreaking work of staggering genius?