Thursday, January 29, 2009



This might have been a perfect name for the blog.*

I have been called a nitpicker.
But technically, is that what I am?
I don't believe the term necessarily applies, precisely.

Though I suppose it all comes down to what one considers a nit.
And one's definition of picking.
And whether those two concepts come together appropriately such that the compound applies.

Furthermore, how often must those circumstances align?
Does picking one nit a nitpicker make?
Does one bike ride make you a cyclist?
Does one cigarette make you a smoker?
How about two? Three? A hundred?
(A hundred cigarettes probably keeps you from being a cyclist.)

How many nits have to be picked?
One blog posting full?
How about two? Three? A hundred?

Regardless, even if I do pick nits, that is not all I do.
Clearly, I also quibble, I examine, I critique... my schedule is full and varied.

So, while there may be some nitpicking to be found in my life (which is an open book, which I am constantly editing), my identity is not rapped up in so doing (and I will correct anyone who thinks otherwise).
Ergo, I am (provably) not a nitpicker.
And certainly not one of the infinite variety.

* The concept of infinity actually would seem to make the title slightly less than perfect, technically.
Though the longer this post continues, the closer to infinite it gets, and the more infinite it certainly seems and feels.

You be the judge, if you'd like to take issue with my assessment and pick the nit of my nitpickery.


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