Nora B Carrot
unread,May 21, 2011, 11:38:02 PM5/21/11Sign in to reply to author
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to ROBERT_HARMONS_WRITINGS
Once upon a time, there was a sad little man living in Wilmington,
AL Carolina, [WHERE is THAT??] who could barely string a sentence
together, so he stole
from others. It was the same with real life, where he had no
originality,
so he took good ideas where he could find them, and claimed them as
his own.
The poor old illiterate didn't even realize he had no abilities.
He
had no knowledge, so he couldn't inform people. He had no
creativity, so
he couldn't inspire anyone. He had no empathy, so he couldn't move
people. He had no style, so he couldn't entertain even the simplest of
audiences.
Eventually, through gradual reinforcement, he discovered that his
one talent was to irritate, but being borderline psychotic, he didn't
realize, nor did he care about, the effect he was having on others.
He just
knew he was having a boatload of fun... and after all, what else
matters when
you've got nothing else?
Sad thing is, after he shot his boat full of holes and all the fun
leaked out, all that was left was reliving the glory days when he had
actual
people to rile up. Now there were only ghosts.
His legacy was an empty hall echoing his own voice reading lines
originally performed by actors he only wished he could equal. I
wonder. Is that the legacy anyone wants to leave?
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WOW!! who writes this stuff? Newt Gingrich??