Well anyone of you who has traded conversation with me lately may have noticed a slight change in speech on my end. No, I haven’t made more liberal use of choice swear words. That is something that I try to keep to a minimum, but similar to smoking cigarettes, don’t really want to fully outlaw for I feel that both have their special place in my heart and life, though both are best kept to a minimum, no doubt. But since I’m not speaking about swearing more, what could the change be, you ask? Well, I feel like I should tell that if you are truly curious about the issue my best answer would be to consult Christ himself. After all, he is the one who’s changed me unexpectedly and to a large extent, uninvitedly. “What the heck, Alex? You mean you’ve turned into some Jesus freak on us?” Well not exactly. To those who’ve known me a while I have always felt deeply regarding Christ’s work, so that isn’t the change. The change, I feel, comes from a renewed sense of voice. This may be one of those fetishized concepts popular among writers and fake-writers alike. You would think there is no holier grail for those Arthurian knights of linguistic Camelot than the ever-elusive “voice.” And maybe it’s a silly thing, a very silly thing to seek out, because any streetwise hipster knows that real voice is nothing to write a PhD on (sorry all you suckers), it’s something you simply reach inside and throw down like a pair of dice on the pavement or a cardboard square. You ever heard someone say something perfectly? Chances are it was someone who wasn’t thinking about what to say and how to say it. They were probably in the moment and said something like, “go fuck yourself if you can muster the self loathing you mother fucker. And by the way, bite me.” Why does cursing carry such punch? I don’t know, but by using that as an example of true voice i’ve probably illegitimated my claim that true voice isn’t connected to swearing in my case. Oh well. Maybe it is, but we’ve all heard people who use curse words as too much of a crutch and therefore can’t say anything worthwhile…the artful use of a swearword is a wonderful thing; the overuse is contemptible. But what is this change you dope? Why are you making me read on and on after something you clearly have no grasp of? Oh hush! I’m getting there. This new voice is just like my old one, because it’s fully my own…but it’s more fleshed out, too. It isn’t afraid to scoop and heave a pile of religious mumbo-jingoism and yet put a hook on it and let it break at the last minute and hit like a something profound. That’s what I want to do, anyway. Having a vocabulary is the greatest tool for anyone who has studied writing…it is the only thing…but for someone who has studied life, too, it is a tool of great use. I can use it to maneuver and edify and comfort and condemn, but most of all, best of any, to pray. I love to pray in my own voice. I think God loves it too. This is the purpose of learning to speak anyway…why does it matter so much what a baby’s first word is? Probably because after that, they are only half baby and already half adult. They’ve crossed the Jordan River into self-expression. But what is the ultimate end of language…is it, like I told some dude back in college, “a natural resource that’s run its course?” Well, not for me anymore. Now, it is my great personal stamp and weapon…the line by which I meet with God and we hash it out like a couple of ferocious mongooses (not mongeese as one would think). Okay, time to spell-check and post. See you on the other side.
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