Monday, 14 February 2011

A Flava of the sort of profound shit to come.

I was seriously tempted to write this particular blog in a font entitled "Irish Growler", because if that didn't attract passing pornographers, what will? What possesses a typesetter to call a font "Irish Growler" and who would ever use it? Maybe the IRA? Or the Real IRA just to prove how mean they are.

Anyway, I digress in as far as I have a vague point to make. It is not very often you come across any profound dictionary quotes so when I was on the tube reading this evening, having just had my evening wasted enduring the latest bit of Coen Brothers frippery, I came across this.......

"We are all imprisoned by the dictionary. We choose out of that vast, paper-walled prison our convicts, the little black printed words when in truth we need fresh sounds to utter, new enfranchised noises which would produce a new effect."
                                  - Stan Collymore lamenting the inability of football commentary to describe the game.

I could continue with some profound analysis of words and dictionaries but I've got a bagel to eat and Chelsea vs. Fulham to fret over. However, this is just the sort of cutting, thoughtful stuff that this blog will become known for among its untold number of followers.

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