"She's all, 'silence is golden,' and I'm like, 'Yeah it is,' and she says...
Hey, remember that part in Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life where the people at the dinner party have all died from poisoned mousse, and the Grim Reaper shows up? And he’s yelling at the one fellow, “You Americans, all you do is talk, and talk, and say ‘let me tell you something’ and ‘I just wanna say.’ Well, you're dead now, so shut up.”? Delightful!
Or in Hitchhiker’s Guide to The Galaxy when Ford Prefect, upon analyzing humans theorizes that we believe that if we stop talking our brains will stop working? Then he concludes that it is, in fact, that if we stop talking our brains will start working? Bon mot, Adams!
Or in Hamlet when Queen Gertrude barks at Polonius to quite blathering, saying, “More matter, less art!” Wacky!
I just mention it because I’ve been marveling at people who genuinely seem incapable of not talking for even a few moments at a time. Why is that? Now, a lot of people say that the more people talk the less they say, but I’m not sure about that. They might say as much, it’s just that the twelve minutes of genuine conversation are suffocating under the weight of fifteen hours and forty eight minutes of…Christ, I don’t even know. Gossip? Filler? Sports scores? Maybe the substance there, it’s just there on the “infinite monkeys” principle.
“I like pepperoni okay but not from that one place with the skinny guy with all the piercings; omigod doesn’t that one hurt? You know, that one? That can’t be clean you know he probably smells I don’t like it when people smell. Have you seen that Axe body spray commercial it’s so funny. I wish I was funny but I’m not; maybe I should try to be but then I suppose I will never be happy if I continue to search for what happiness consists of. It’s the great paradox: I will never truly live if I am looking for the meaning of life. The guy in the pizza place was trying to be funny this one time, but he’s too skanky, and…”
That sort of thing. Perhaps not, since there’s no time to conceive of the twelve minutes of meaningful discourse while churning out the rest.
Don’t you ever just stare at people, trying to figure out the circumstances under which they’d be quiet for a moment? Earthquake? During the earthquake, I mean. After the earthquake would actually warrant lots of talking. I don’t trust people who can’t stop talking. Unfair, perhaps, but I just don’t. If no time is devoted to thought, then the words are just, essentially, gas leaked through vocal chords.
I know people talk because they’re nervous. People talk because they’re excited or bored…but you can also think for those reasons. Or perhaps discuss your anxiety and/or bordeom. One can, perhaps, take a moment to think of something meaningful or relevant to say. Didn’t think of anything? Oh, that’s too bad. Shut the fuck up, then, how about?
I wish I knew the solution. I’d tell everybody. All the time.
Or in Hitchhiker’s Guide to The Galaxy when Ford Prefect, upon analyzing humans theorizes that we believe that if we stop talking our brains will stop working? Then he concludes that it is, in fact, that if we stop talking our brains will start working? Bon mot, Adams!
Or in Hamlet when Queen Gertrude barks at Polonius to quite blathering, saying, “More matter, less art!” Wacky!
I just mention it because I’ve been marveling at people who genuinely seem incapable of not talking for even a few moments at a time. Why is that? Now, a lot of people say that the more people talk the less they say, but I’m not sure about that. They might say as much, it’s just that the twelve minutes of genuine conversation are suffocating under the weight of fifteen hours and forty eight minutes of…Christ, I don’t even know. Gossip? Filler? Sports scores? Maybe the substance there, it’s just there on the “infinite monkeys” principle.
“I like pepperoni okay but not from that one place with the skinny guy with all the piercings; omigod doesn’t that one hurt? You know, that one? That can’t be clean you know he probably smells I don’t like it when people smell. Have you seen that Axe body spray commercial it’s so funny. I wish I was funny but I’m not; maybe I should try to be but then I suppose I will never be happy if I continue to search for what happiness consists of. It’s the great paradox: I will never truly live if I am looking for the meaning of life. The guy in the pizza place was trying to be funny this one time, but he’s too skanky, and…”
That sort of thing. Perhaps not, since there’s no time to conceive of the twelve minutes of meaningful discourse while churning out the rest.
Don’t you ever just stare at people, trying to figure out the circumstances under which they’d be quiet for a moment? Earthquake? During the earthquake, I mean. After the earthquake would actually warrant lots of talking. I don’t trust people who can’t stop talking. Unfair, perhaps, but I just don’t. If no time is devoted to thought, then the words are just, essentially, gas leaked through vocal chords.
I know people talk because they’re nervous. People talk because they’re excited or bored…but you can also think for those reasons. Or perhaps discuss your anxiety and/or bordeom. One can, perhaps, take a moment to think of something meaningful or relevant to say. Didn’t think of anything? Oh, that’s too bad. Shut the fuck up, then, how about?
I wish I knew the solution. I’d tell everybody. All the time.
posted by MacLymont at 6:53 PM
3 Comments:
I think some people should talk less that way maybe the rest of us could actually get a word in once in a while!
God, I agree with Kelsey. What's worse than someone talking all the time is someone talking over someone who doesn't get to talk much.
..Of course, I dislike this because I tend to be the one who doesn't get to say something. Maybe I'm too discouraged by being pushed out of a conversation.
Hear, hear.
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