Conversation. informal interchange of thoughts, information, etc., by spoken words
The definition of the word, as presented above, has evolved. No longer must the interchange of thoughts, information, etc. be limited to spoken words. A conversation need not be oral; conversations can take place through written words. In fact, though, has the definition really changed? Were not the exchange of hand-written letters between correspondents in the days before email and other such electronic messaging also conversations? The form of the interchange is not the most significant transformation; the most obvious and most depressing change is the not-so-gradual disappearance of conversation. Conversations, if one can legitimately call them by that term, seem to have devolved into banter. Substance appears largely to have been replaced by inconsequential noise, or its silent identical twin. The blather of gossip has stepped in to fill the void left by the departure of intellectual curiosity—mental vacancy. Conversations, whether oral or written or otherwise, cannot take place in the absence of curiosity. But. wait. The implicit suggestion here may be based on a stubbornly self-absorbed assumption that real curiosity always leads to real conversation. Perhaps that assumption is faulty; perhaps the foundation of its premise—that real curiosity is shared by everyone worthy of engagement in real conversation—is built on top of an intellectual sinkhole. The egotist’s hearth may be constructed of wooden splinters held together by flammable glue.
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After my radiation treatment yesterday afternoon, we discussed options for dinner; go out to a restaurant or return home and warm some homemade chicken soup. We opted for the chicken soup. But before we got home, that decision apparently spilled out along the roadway. In light of the fact that we seemed to have forgotten what we had decided, I chose instead to have short stalks of celery, used as scoops for Mediterranean spiced hummus. Even though hummus is moderately high in calories, it is nutrient-dense, so I judge it an ideal food for someone who, like me of late, finds many foods no particularly appealing. The taste of hummus, spiced with red peppers and various other flavor enhancers, is in my opinion quite nice. If I can stick with my food preferences—as they are now—after my cancer treatments end, I might be able to continue reshaping my body into a form that appeals to me far more than the old misshapen lump. After all these months of chemotherapy, I finally have concluded that food consumption is as much a habit as it is a source of fuel for the body. With a little help from a mix of infused-chemical-poisons, the habit of over-eating and/or selectively eating unhealthy and highly-caloric foods can be conquered. Once this regimen of chemo- and radiation-treatments has concluded, I may considering developing a custom mix of docetaxel (Taxotere®) and ramucirumab (Cyramza®), which I would sell as a weight-loss medication. If I follow through on this, I might call the wonder drug Sleek–Bald-Sexy, or SBS. I would, of course, include in my marketing materials a list of potential side-effects, including possible control of non-small-cell lung cancer that has progressed on or after being treated with other initial types of chemotherapy. The likelihood of this development is, of course, approximately nil; but that never stopped me before, has it?
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Paint a smiling face on the cerulean sky before its cheeks fill with tears.
Place your bayonet on your rifle, ready to plunge the dagger into an enemy’s heart.
Whether you die in battle or in a cell built by a dictator’s henchmen,
know that the pain of surrender outlasts by a lifetime the shame of willing defeat.
You are the only witness who matters; except for those whose lives depended on yours.
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