It's a new dawn,
It's a new day,
It's a new life,
It's a New Year,
And I'm feeling … CLEAR!
Let me be perfectly clear. How clear?
Look, here's the deal: At the end of the day, going forward, we will get our oar in the water and push the narrative.
Here are the optics:
We are bullish about our capacity to activate an action-forcing strategy.
If, that is, we can decyberize our adversaries, whomever (whoever?) they may be.
Take those persnickety precision police, who keep hounding us to unmask our meaning.
We don't need masks.
Not to put too fine a point on it, our meaning is perfectly clear. (We can't say that often enough.)
Our opponents obsess about something they call truth.
In a last-ditch effort, they badger us to say what we mean, mean what we say.
We suffer no torture, brook no criticism, about our communication modality.
What we say is this: Quite frankly, if you close your eyes, the problem kind of goes away.
Can't you feel that problem slinking into the fog?
Let's agree to manage across the matrix and take advantage of a more open stance in shaping policy priorities and implementation mechanisms.
Yes, class, it's time for recess.
Put on your hats, coats, scarves and mittens, and go play in the fog.
When you come back, there'll be hot chocolate and lots more words to help you push your own narrative toward that distant shore, where truth lies.
Isn't that a clear, compelling and convincing credo?
Consider a reader's recent submission, previously recognized here as extremely clever, and now winning the designation "Utter Delight of the Year":
"Squeezed by too many other shoppers, the woman refused to buy the tomatoes."
See? Isn't that perfectly clear?
Your homework assignment: Look up this exciting word — obscurantism.
After New Year's, send me an original sentence that illustrates what's been made so very clear today.
Twin Cities writing coach Gary Gilson, winner of an Emmy Award, teaches journalism at Colorado College. He can be reached at www.writebetterwithgary.com.