I followed your Kirk link … that’s some funny stuff. It reminds me of a hammer and a mister nail. The rest of what you surmise seems spot on. I tried to use the embedded link from the last post but couldn’t get my IE to work. Oh well. That fantastic spastic mister wizard just continues to amaze. Did you know that he also knew E “Yip” Harburg , the talented lyricist and unfortunate socialist; yep, “Yip” got blacklisted during that whole RED thing in the ‘50s. Anyway, they first met in Uruguay at the Swift & Co. meat packing plant in the summer of 1918. Mister wizard adamantly denies that this was an attempt to avoid serving in WW I. He told me, “We just really liked meat, and well, you know, Uruguay’s got some great beef”. Then in 1920, both returned to the United States where “Yip” got married and mister wizard decided to just “chillax.” When I asked him what strange language he was using, mister wizard said, “Oh, you mean ‘chillax’? That’s just a slang term from when … I mean where I’m from.” He also credits himself with being instrumental in the later writing of Mr. Harburg’s lyrics for “Brother, Can You Spare a Dime” and “The Wizard of Oz”. As proof of his claims, he emailed me a photocopy of a soiled napkin on which he says is a first draft of the lyrics from something called, “The Wizard of Blog”:

We’re off to see the Wizard
The Wonderful Wizard of Blog
We hear he is a Whiz of a Wiz
If ever a Wiz there was
If ever, oh ever, a Wiz there was
The Wizard of Blog is one because
Because, because, because, because, because
Because of the wonderful things he does
We’re off to see the wizard
The Wonderful Wizard of Blog

Oh that nutty mister wizard…

mister wizard,

#237 mister wizard the plagiarist said
“As for you CaCa . . . pull your head out, will ya? Geez, stay with this: I referred to your Chisolm quote, then repeated my own thought from my earlier post to show how similar they were. Good god, FOCUS!”

So I guess when you said, “I like your last Ms Chisolm quote: …” immediately followed by, “Here’s another one: …” you weren’t giving everyone another Ms Chisolm quote? The flowery verse that followed was just your “similar” sentiments to Ms. Chisolm’s original words. Okay, sure. What did you call my mimicry of those “original” words of yours, oh yes, “poetic.” Well then, thanks. I think they’re poetic too, but absolutely worthless which was my point – Folderol. Why don’t you play the mister parsnip parsing game on that and get back to us. Love the exasperation though.

And while I was busy counting your posts for no good reason, mister parsing parsnip the plagiarist and sophisticate, I came across this:

#180 mister man,
“MM . . . That is just embarrassing. I haven’t used “perspicacity” since my junior year in high school, back when I was reading “She Stoops to Conquer.” And it gets worse . . . evince, preclude, manifold, not withstanding (should be one word), refutation. It goes on and on. Absolutely insufferable. I earned my living as a writer for 28 years. Everybody thinks they can do it, but damn few can. It’s really hard to do well. I’m not talking about the random typo. Everybody does that. It takes years to master the fundamentals, years more to set them aside and develop your own style. What you people do isn’t writing. It’s unskilled, overblown, incomprehensible bullshit. And no amount of cutting and pasting can hide that.”

Wow, it took you how long to polish that style of yours? It’s been over twenty years since I last picked up the electric quill and it seems to be coming back just fine. What’s it been, five, maybe six days? I don’t claim your proficiency but I think my writing is sufficient for a comment in a blog. That’s right, we’re just writing comments in a blog. Maybe you think this is your chance to write that great American novel that you just knew was inside of you. Maybe you think someone will finally notice your genius and submit your compiled, pithy posts for a Pulitzer. Don’t know. Don’t care. Get over yourself.

When I first posted, I was rusty in my grammar, spelling and style. Okay. Even now my scribbling may not deserve to be admitted into your “Professional-Grade, Level VI Master Wordsmither” realm. Okay. But, if I were to decide to waste more time at this writing thing, maybe down that road there’d be room in whichever itinerant freelance pool you swim. On second thought, no thank you. That could only be a cesspool, shallow and stagnant; a place where genetic miscreants go to die. Wait, what’s that ripple? Is there something lurking just beneath the pool’s surface? Yikes, viral RNA! I know, mister whatever, you’re a retired, honest, accomplished and wizened old moneybags so I must be deluded to suggest anything else. Well, color me unimpressed by your fictitious prowess, but thanks for the advice. Simpler is better. Maybe I’ll get there someday, but for now I think this will do.

And now I’ve had my say and you’ve had yours. There are plenty of posts above for anybody else to form their own opinion with respect to this thread. And whereas I’ll admit to a perverse pleasure at some of the more immature comments (mine, yours and others), I no longer find you worth conversing with; if you ever were. I’m going to take the advice of someone much wiser than you and simply ignore your childish verbal antics. So go ahead. Have the last say. Enjoy your name calling, grammar, punctuation and spelling nit picking. You’ll just be back to talking to yourself or any other fool in love with your “voice” – a situation with which I’m sure you’re more than familiar.