Jack Derider

A word ain’t worth a hill of beans. Grafitti for computer screens, a word can’t tell you what it means (the thing it’s in existence for). Each age forms self-defining views, infatuations and taboos, its West Points and its Waterloos, but balks at what the butler saw. The less that’s said, the sooner mended. Nothing’s ever open-ended. There’s people want to be offended, and so it shall be, ever more.