Mist Opportunities

Stubble. When I think of that word, in my mind’s eye I see several days’ growth of beard. But the definition that conjures that vision is tertiary, according to the dictionary I just examined. The two definitions with primacy over mine refer to stumps of grain and other stalks left in the field after crops are cut. Why did I look up stubble? Because the word is similar in size and sound to stifle, which I had explored moments earlier. And I explored that word because of its presence in the dictionary definition of smother, which prompted me to go to the dictionary in the first place. The definition of smother, by the way, in the context of steaks and mushrooms, is the tertiary definition of the word: “to cover closely or thickly; envelop.” And, so, there’s a relationship between stubble and smother; the primary definitions I associate with them are ranked as number three in the dictionary. Buried somewhere in these concepts I’m exploring are the seeds of psychosis, aren’t there?

On a whim, after I wrote the words, I searched for “seeds of psychosis” a moment ago and found several articles that incorporate the phrase. Searching for the Seeds of Psychosis was published online on May 1, 2016 in the American Journal of Psychiatry. The Biology of Schizophrenia: The Seeds of Psychosis was published (online) in 2001. Teen Angst May Sow Seeds of Psychosis was published in May 2008.

So, I think some connection must exist between psychosis and alliteration. Stubble. Stifle. Smother. Sow. Searching. Seeds. Schizophrenia. Psychosis. Yes. Moreover, those words begin with sounds that, in the alphabet, precede the letter ‘t’ and follow ‘r,’ don’t they? Clearly this is no accident. This offers solid, irrefutable evidence of a master plan, a Machiavelian plot. All of us, and all of the letters in our alphabets and the sounds emanating from our mouths, are just pawns in a celestial word game. If there’s a flaw in my logic, I don’t see it, because I must be sinking beneath a serous sea of sanity, ceding sway to psychotic swill.

And THAT is how I waste a perfectly good opportunity to write something of merit, choosing instead to write utter drivel lacking any redeeming value. Sometimes, I just gotta do what I gotta do.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
This entry was posted in Attempted Humor, Just Thinking. Bookmark the permalink.

Please tell me how this post strikes you.