Terse writing bores me.

Life happens not in the uninspired black-and-white banality of concise writing, featuring only a few absolute phrases, but in the vivid, fanciful colors of intensely descriptive composition. We should be so lucky as to live as simply as Subject, verb, occasional object, period! That we carry on day-to-day otherwise is patently obvious: Our lives are complex, interconnected existences, the stuff of appositives, of colons, dashes, and semi-colons, of parenthetical dialogues and bracketed soliloquies. Rarely can the insipidity of “pretty” and “ugly” effectually depict the true nature of being, capturing the pulchritudinous intimacies that conduce community or the grotesque sins that estrange us from one another. Not only actively, but also brilliantly and boldly, do we live our lives, beyond the capabilities of the insufficiently laconic prose that passes as well-crafted — even nonpareil — language today. Such, doubtless, are the consequences of the uncultured work-a-day world!


One Response

  1. […] mongrel language like English deserves better than to be polluted with third-rate byproducts of our unhealthy obsession with concision. Is writing “provides incentives” that difficult? We cleaned up previously accepted […]

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