Death by repeat vs. death by wordsmith.

Jul 7 11:44 UTC 2002

See the gnomes tinker away.
Tink, tink, tinker.
So careful are they in the lingual mines,
and so practical, too.
Intricate and engineered structure they build.
There might be a little word alchemy here and there,
but not quite so often--
plain, after all, is not easily converted to their structures.

Suddenly, they scream in terror.
"It is a Beast of Trite," they cry.
"He breathes forth flaming cliches!"
"He will destroy what we have made!  Work harder still!"
Yes, little gnomes.
He is a beast of destruction.
But what of those who dance delightfully in the fires?
Terrible, yes, but could we tolerate
Your pomp and grandeur forever?
Nay, say I.
Once in a while, I enjoy those unoriginal pyrotechnics,
and not even your best-designed little Babels can save you.
In fact, so many of you rot away in catacombic tombs
built deep, tall and wide; you trap yourselves inside
hoping not to even be seared.

See me laugh upon such gnomish bones of overproud obscurity.