Goodbye 2022 and Tarrant County — A Shit-Kicker Cowtown-Railyard-Airport Backwater After All‽

Introduction

Trust me, figuring out the title for this article required efforts in rhetorical crafting. One, convey emotion. Two, limit profanity. Three, insult with Rick James-level intensity. Four, tie-in a Futurama joke. Five, drop an interrobang just to show off.

To pull off this kind of density, you can always use my method by cheating and writing the title and then extrapolating as much as the taffy will hold. As the saying goes, for all you know I’m a dog on the internet, so unless I told you about the one to five coming after the title was written, you might assume the intent was to pack all those in and pick the words to fit the model. Nope!

Max Martin does use the technique which is why he’s got a reserved parking space at the top studio in the world and you don’t even know the address. Well, maybe, I do get surprised how many tech experts lurk in little communities, occasionally dropping wisdom and stories that entertain and educate. Learning about Max Martin and his “balanced lines” changed my view of music altogether and for the better. The dude is a genius quiet Swede, whereas I’m a hyperactive genetic mutant Texan. In music, the lyrics are a component, so he does big picture shit. In writing long-form, it’s all packed into letters and sentences and concepts which take place in the reader’s mind. As in, music is actually active/passive (listening) whereas reading is active/active…