With bemusement i note Ingwit takes issue with my name, Clarion, and the face-washing habits of its participants.
I was rubbing marinade into a piece of raw meat yesterday when the name Gra Linnaea popped into my head . . . it galvanized me for some reason . . . such a fantastic name and out of nothing . . . I was clenching the beef between my fingers without meaning to, the thick barbecue sauce oozing underneath my nails staining the distal edges from off-white to dark red . . . I frantically reviewed my recent reading, trying to determine where I could have encountered such a fantastic name . . . for example was Gra Linnaea an 18th century Swedish botanist? the site of a pre-Gallic settlement? an exotic liqueur, possibly green in color like damp moss, comes in a swell-bellied bottle with a posh purple velvet carrying bag . . . many possibilities, too many really . . . I repeated it under my breath, turning it into a mantra . . . sweet incantations . . . then I researched it a little more and remembered Gra Linnaea is an indigo-haired goober with a pony-tail that paid a bunch of money to go to San Diego and learn how to write speculative fiction in a room that probably smelled like feet and medicinal face cream . . . such disappointment . . . thanks a lot Gra Linnaea . . . thanks a lot for nothing.
Ingwit, i will endeavor to make you, and Carl, proud.