Oh, don’t look so disappointed, it’s a tag. You want profound, read Plato. Frankly, I was lucky to come up with that. Now, I’m not proud of the fact I dangle participles and modifiers and split infinitives like nobody’s business, but I’d rather be upfront about it. Punctuation and grammar are not strong points. I do my best, but I’m flying by the seat of my pants.
Commas are good, I understand those. The clauses they separate, no, they throw me. I use colons and semicolons only for variety or to look official. And verbs baffle me. What in the world is transitive, can someone explain that? There’s also intransitive and indicative and subjective and, sure, imperative. Nouns are a puzzlement, prepositions, too. Every part of speech is Greek to me — except for adverbs, I can spot those a mile away (as long as they end with -ly).
Hey, I just use them, I don’t try to understand them.
It’s the same with computers. I don’t know the first thing about them and I’m too impatient to learn, so I push buttons and keep my fingers crossed. Sometimes it works; mostly it beeps. However, once in a blue moon I’ll poke a button or combination of buttons and unleash a firestorm of weird effects that border on mystical or hallucinogenic. The show is awesome, but scary.
When I try to explain it, people look concerned and tell me computers shouldn’t do that. They berate me for hitting buttons indiscriminately. Meh, what do they know, worrywarts. I don’t see sparks or smell smoke, it’s fine. In fact, I think my computer likes doing stuff it wasn’t programmed to do. It gets a chance to try new things, test its own limits.