They say that silent waters run deep, and all that, but I never quite managed to be the strong, silent type. Sometimes I think I speak three words for each word that might otherwise do nicely.
But it's a wonderful idea, isn't it? That notion that one is not called upon often, but when one is called upon, one rings deeply and soundly. I love the sound of a didjeridoo, a deep, sonorous resonating hum of a sound. In July, giant cicadas make a more tenor version of this sound--a kind of rampage of
In the story, Jericho fell through a solid series of horn blasts. For that matter, victory was achieved in a rather different story merely by chunking rocks, declaring victory, and going home. I remember I swung the low G bell,
the vibration stayed with me even as the sound attenuated. Perhaps this is a form of victory, too.
Somebody posted a message in my Feeder Guppy Rescue League yahoo group, urging all and sundry to urge people to stop eating meat in light, ostensibly, of blitheringly mad cows. I personally envision the group more about not eating guppies than about not eating holsteins. Then the dilemma arises--to make a production number of it all, institute a "pre-approval" message, delete the member, write an "don't be off topic" post, and all that? I think not, just yet. I'll just delete the message, and try to avoid the melodrama. I have noticed in life that there are two forms of message boards. Boards without readers without melodrama, and boards with readers with melodramas. I do not know which I prefer. I'd rather play a didgjeridoo, and listen to its hum remind me of a deep-ish G.