The gods of editing

My computer at home freezes up constantly and becomes increasingly unreliable. I am growing to fear it a little, not wanting to get sucked up in it, the endless cycles of rebooting and crashing, the involved research into fixes that take hours but don't work. More and more I hide from my computer.

I'm not sure that's so bad. I kind of like hiding from my computer.

But I do worry a little about taking care of this essential task: clerkmanifesto.

"How" You wonder "Can clerkmanifesto be so relentlessly excellent? It is so good and rich that I find I can hardly ever bear to read it. It's visionary power is frequently too much for my delicate mortal frame to absorb."

I find it hard to bear as well. The gods come down and I yell at them "No! Too much! Too damn much!" So they learn to make quick visits.

"You should add the word 'that' in that spot." The gods say, and they leave again.

"Say something like 'a bronze of turkey feathers'" The gods whisper. And then they're gone.

"Huh?" I ask. "Oh, yeah, 'a bronze', that's good. Hello? Hello?" Gone again. But I read through what I wrote and the gods are back "Whipped cream, gelato, peeling stucco, tattered antennas." They urge. Then they're gone before I can tell them to go away, or before I can ask them any uncomfortable questions.

The gods are all fools, but they're not fools.

So I guess I shouldn't worry too much. If the gods can't visit me during editing time, while I'm revisiting my upcoming posts for the fifteenth time, they'll just have to stay a bit longer with me while I'm working on the first drafts, and I'll have to struggle to wait a little longer before I chase them away.