Combination of the Three
I had started to write a self-opinionated, thought-provoking, soul-searching comprehensive study
of the socio-political implications of the lyrics of pop songs in connection with the
disintegration of organised religion in the West today, but I couldn't do it. Words strain to
come, and thoughts only laugh at me once written down. These few lines have said nothing, but
occupied time -- the questions have been merely mentioned, let alone answered or attempted. The
leaves that are green turn to brown. The belief of those few who have submitted work to the
school magazine year after year to face only the creamed chocolate of refusal, is that it did
not correspond with what the publishers believed was good for the magazine, that it was too
good -- they never thought that it was too bad. It was, of that I feel sure. Mine was and still
is, and shall be, I expect. If one is to accept the merit of a printed piece of work, one must
also accept its faults and identify those faults with those of one's own essays. So, if that
which is printed is bad, why not print rubbish, or blank pages, or trash. If only Einstein could
see us now. I must finish writing -- you have read to the end in the hope that I will mention
something to amuse or interest you. I have not, so you are disappointed. Sorry. When the ring
is found and the dragon slain, the plastic cups are crushed and the graves dug, only the words
remain. "The word is an expression of a thought; representative of an intelligence..." Therefore
the word is intelligent -- and the Word was God.
M. Loftus 5R.
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