Written about a week after C-WE #2
Finally, after so many delays, from Take Ten #5-4, "Superwordacious": Blend a given prefix, root, and suffix into a brand new word to use in the story. [The word, as well as the famous first line to start the story (in this case from David Copperfield by Charles Dickens), are in bold.]
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. But since there's only one page here, I might as well say it right here and now: I am not that hero, and nobody else is either. I am merely a humble, self-contradictory, hypocritical, obscure, and just plain faking-it psychobabblemeister, and I make my living by appearing on talk shows to make weighty-seeming pronouncements on "the human condition" of the pitiful specimens that are my co-guests, which sound really deep and insightful but are actually rubbish and garbage, stuff and nonsense, all carefully screened from the naïve viewer's eye by a choking wall of jargon and, well, psychobabble, that just runs on and on and on and on and never really reaches a stopping place, just keeps on going and rolls over the critical thought of others through the crushing weight of its superior number of words and syllables in those words, sort of like this sentence. You see? I'm doing it to you too (although I'm dropping the jargon since I'm not on my usual subject of choice), without even trying! What can I say, I'm a natural--naturally long-winded, prolix, and generally given to say nothing or next to nothing in an incredibly long string of words, so that any real meaning, true thought, and sensible opinion is buried under a landslide of BS that just goes on and on and on and on and... Sorry, I did it again. As I said, I'm a natural--that's why the networks call so often on my services (that, and they love that kind of stuff; also they're lazy and don't want to spend the effort looking for someone new or better--frankly, though, there is none better than me--when they already have one, i.e. me; notice how even in my parenthetical comments I just ramble on and on into infinity... again I apologize for doing this to you when I'm trying as hard as I can, to tell you meaningful truths about myself. I can't help it, I'm sorry...)
So anyway, the point is--speaking really bluntly for once, which is hard on me and requires incredible amounts of effort and soul-searching and... see, I just can't stop! But I'll make a valiant effort......... Okay, here we go. I am merely a psychobabble-meister for TV talk shows (and radio too, occasionally), not a hero, and nobody wants to be a hero for a psychobabblemeister for TV talk shows, so as I said above (before I got so sidetracked--and it's taking me a huge effort no to go off on another tangent right now)--so anyway, the point is, I have no such thing as the "hero of my life", and it only took me a page (keeping my innate longwinded tendencies in check with supreme effort only) to demonstrate it. There. I've said it. Now I can finally give in to my natural urge and start analyzing the effects of this brief repression of my innate tendencies on my psyche and the devastating pain and autocatalyzing destruction of my soul, and the reasons for everything I do, and the reasons behind those reasons, and the reasons behind those, and how it all connects to my relationship with my mother, and hers with my grandfather, and his with my uncle, and ... ... . . . . . . . .
Note: When I first wrote this, I added an out-of-character, inconsequential, completely useless note at the bottom. I threw it out--and now replace it with this one. But I'll keep it brief. Two things: One, note how I avoid the difficulty of writing beautiful concise prose by making my
narrator longwinded... and two, note the coincidence: the author of the famous first line was also known for writing long, complex sentences (and I hope he'd forgive me for the horrible way I treated his line...because I certainly wouldn't have!)
Oh, one more thing I had to say. As I uploaded this, my heart was broken when I had to hyphenate the title (to make it fit the sidebar)--because "psychobabblemeister" doesn't, and should never, repeat
NEVER, take a hyphen! The pain you experience when you are forced to bend your erstwhile perfect, carefully constructed creation (so it seems to you, no matter its actual worth) to fit constraints... oh, it's the worst thing in the world, I tell you. The absolute worst.
Okay, I'll shut up now.