Pity Me My Muse

It was once believed that the Muses were the goddesses that inspired art, literature, science and music. My Muse is not quite so talented, or else not motivated. She does not drive me to write a symphony or paint or even write another book. Instead my Muse whispers questions in my ear that linger in my mind, unanswered and perhaps unanswerable.

  • Why is it that musicians, artists or other performers who become commercial successes and independently wealthy because they produce what people want suddenly feel compelled to abandon their fans and perform for their own satisfaction?
  • If a legend is a story that cannot be verified, does this mean that when someone is introduced as “legendary” it means that they possibly don’t exist?
  • Remember asking your parents how to spell a word and they told you to go look it up in the dictionary? Were they being funny or was it just cruel?
  • Wouldn’t it be fun to line up friends and associates for a day’s worth”free consultations” at a lawyer’s office, with each one sitting there speaking some technobabble mumbo jumbo just as incomprehensible as legalese?
  • Maybe today’s school age kids are spoiled because dry erase boards don’t have a sound that equates to fingernails across a blackboard.
  • Imagine seeing Sylvester Stallone with Woody Allen’s personality and vice versa.
  • Is there anyone so gullible as to actually believe anything beginning with the words “If elected, I promise…”?

Can you see the difficulty with which I must deal?

One response to “Pity Me My Muse

  1. I promise!!! I don’ t believe that from anyone! c

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