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By C. Jake Williams. March 19, 2008
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In one of my favorite books, Figures of Speech, there's a selection about using words and phrases like Behold! to grab a readers attention before making an important point. I've decided that "To be sure" serves this purpose well enough for my purposes. You might see it from time to time. To be sure, I'm always looking to improve my impact on my readers.
Last week I decided I need to think up a useful nickname for that certain ex-girlfriend of mine. Something powerless, but specific. Something my close friends will recognize, but strangers won't necessarily pry for meaning if they hear it. Lets face it, if I referred to her as something like The Serpent everyone would tune in to hear the details that would follow. The nickname of choice has been The Blonde for the last six months or so, but that is too powerful. It's giving that wench of a spider too much credit. Any ideas, friends?
I wrote myself a little note to write that last graf (paragraph). I actually wrote her name. "Wow," I said "there really is power in that, isn't there!" I was talking about the power in a name. Not her name, per se, but in naming something in principle. I'm pretty rusty on my canonical teachings, but didn't Adam get to name things after taking The Fall? I think he made out pretty well if that's true. He was the third most powerful entity in existence at that point, if you ask me.
There's a concept that bugs me more and more every time I come across it. I've termed it (named it!) The Zero-for-zero Principle. Here's how it works:
You want something. You feel like given a fair chance, you could accomplish something. You want someone. Whatever. The next step obviously is to go out and see if you can acquire, achieve, or accomplish, right? But no, you sit on your ass and wait for lightning in a bottle to just make the event fall into your lap. A week later, you fucking whine that nothing has happened!
You didn't fail, rather you didn't try. You're not Oh-for-ten or Oh-for-one, you're a big fat undefined Zero-for-zero! So until you have a tally in the loss column, quitcherbitchin and leevmeethefuck alone. Check.
There are billions of girls in the world, and according to romantics one of them is perfect for me. And that's part of why I date the way I do. It's like playing Guess Who:
Every girl I date invariably shows me a trait or habit or personality disorder or criminal act or view of felines that is irreconcilable with my vision of the world.
Does your person have a mustache? No? Half the possibilities get dropped.
And so do all women with that trait. Or that habit. Or who tries to fucking stab me with scissors AND a steak knife. I'm allergic to cats.
I'm not opening my boundaries to every organism with four lips between its hips (deemed labia majora and minora by pesky doctors). To be sure, I'm widdling down the profile of my Alpha and Omega. How can I know her when I meet her (the romantics assure me she's out there searching for me as well) if I don't know what she looks like? What books she enjoys? How much she deplores the music of Toby Keith?
I'll know her.
You were there.