The dog sat on a log. The dog was brown. He matched the log. That is because they are the same color. The color that was the same is brown.
Is this narrative
suited for the common perusal? Am I succinct, direct, repetitive,
literal enough? Of course, I am aware that none of us should create,
should innovate. Our sole purpose in life and as writers is to ensure
that we are understood. We are to write for the comprehension of the
dullest, most pedantic common man. That is greatness.
Am I understood?
Against the log leaned a wheel. The dog also had a wheel. The wheels matched. This is because they were the same wheel. The dog saw the wheel on the log when he was searching for a pretty tree one day. He reinvented the wheel and took it for a walk. The dog and the log are very happy. The wheels are the same.
Oh, don't you hurt your pretty little head, dearest dullest reader. This story is not an allegory. Only a cruel, unfairly creative individual would dare draw a parallel that not everyone could ride across on their little wheels to the other side of meaning. The wheels are the same. The meaning is different. Take note. This is wrong.
The log had an idea. The dog had no idea. The log and dog and their idea and lack thereof are different. This is wrong. So, the log climbed his inanimate little self upon his inanimate little wheel and decided to go for an inanimate little stroll. The dog found this a fascinatingly brilliant proposition. He boarded his animate little self upon his inanimate little wheel, and together, the dog and the log took an inanimate little stroll. The wheels are the same. The stroll is the same. Oh, happy journey!
The italics and the plain print are different, as is the tone and the text contained thereof. This is wrong. Just for your information, I am writing this cheery tale by the light of my burning novel. The novel was great and American. This is wrong. I am in my car. I live in the car. My house was repossessed and bulldozed because the city was concerned about a rise in aneurisms when my neighbors stood before my humble abode, scratching their heads, and trying to comprehend its architecture. So sad for them, not to understand. I have learned my lesson. I have four flat tires. The wheels are—
(The writer is not available to take your criticism at the tone. She has gone on a magical and idyllic inanimate exodus with a dog and log on a reinvented wheel. The wheels are the same. The dog, log, and writer are the same. Oh, such greatness, such insight! This new epiphany will make her happy…normally. She may not be back. Please keep your message brief and conventional.)