Pressed Freshly For Ben

Freshly Pressed Ben

And if he does why can’t I find it? Perhaps because I’m looking in the wrong place.

Why doesn’t Ben Huberman have a WordPress blog?


It started here – Describe a dramatic confrontation you witnessed…

No, it didn’t, that was the middle.

So, where did it start?

I don’t know, ask me where it ended instead. I think backwards. I can read and write backwards too, but apparently that is a useless talent.

According to who?

To THEM… you know, that not so secret secret society that is always laying down laws and rules and stuff and nonsense like that, turning fiction into fact, promoting fantasy to reality, opinion into truism, then everyone believes them.

Surely not EVERYONE!?!

My guess is no one really believes them, but they think other people do and so as not to stand out like a sore pulsating purulent thumb they pretend to believe too, and we all live happily unhappily ever after believing what we don’t believe.

Where am I?

What do you mean?

I am in the middle, the end or the beginning?

Does it matter?

I am a bit lost and panic is rising.

Eat a biscuit.


A round one. Everything goes around in a circle, which may be a spiral, but I had a discussion with someone about this and they really didn’t like my spiral, preferred their circle, so I said… I’ll go left, you go right, let’s see if our paths cross. He went up, I went down…

So it’s a spiral not a circle?

No idea. I think this may be a labyrinth drawn by Escher.

So what has Ben Huberman got to do with this?


The title of this post is inspired by him… prompt prompt…

I think this section of this post is before I knew his name or that he existed.


I had an instant idea. Started writing it. Decided to scrap it. I was going to write it in sequence and then turn it on its head sentence by sentence. But…

Too much work?


What then? Real work interfering with play?


Are you going to tell me or do I have to keep guessing?


I idly scanned the comments. I like reading comments. Not so much actually writing comments. My comments have a tendency to turn into posts, so I might as well turn them into an actual post on my blog.

So… you were going to comment on the Weekly Writing Challenge? Or you did and Ben replied?

A comment caught my eye. Someone was angry. They felt snubbed by The Daily Post… I think that was the gist of it. They wanted to be Freshly Pressed and hadn’t been. I could be wrong about this…

There are a lot of frustrated artists in the blogging world.

In the world outside the blogging world too. I think it comes with the territory. To be an artist you have to believe that what you do is a work of genius, or you wouldn’t bother doing it. But when others do not acknowledge and validate your view, and especially if you suspect those others of promoting the work of those you may deem to be less talented, you get frustrated. Frustration can fire the creative juices, until it bungs up the flow with too much sediment, and then the artist drowns in their own fermented frustrated juices.

That’s a bit vivid, and I sense a personal angle to it. Are you a frustrated artist?

No, I’m frustrated with an artist whose frustrations not only drowned him, but the dam holding the fermented frustration juice burst and engulfed an entire family and some innocent victims.

What? Were the family not also innocent victims?

I was being a tad sarcastic about those particular victims being innocent. They think they are… so… we’ll give them the benefit of a highly arched cynical brow of doubt.

We’re roaming away from Ben, I am intrigued by your interest in him. How did this begin?

He answered the comments on his post. That surprised me. It shows dedication and sensitivity to all the lunatics loose in this asylum. He cares about us. He could just post and run.

No Story Wrangler with a gummy bear addiction would ever post and run!

See, you like him too! He has a certain soft charm which worms its way into you before you are even aware of it, but once you are, there is no way to remove such a thing without a rather sharp scalpel.

You just likened him to a worm!?!

I like worms… have you ever seen them mating? It is fascinating and squirmingly beautiful!


No, no… he won’t be offended. He’ll be relieved.

You know that do you? Know him well?

No… I don’t know him at all. However, look at his gravatar. See, he’s not looking at the camera, his head is slightly bowed, with a soft smile. He’s shy, so really all this attention we’re giving him will make him nervous and he will be relieved that it isn’t too intense. Just playful…

And calling him a worm…

I did not call him a worm… I used a descriptive term which implies something, charm in this instance, subtly insinuating itself in your being… oh I give up!

You never give up, especially when you say that you do.

Shhh…. not listening or speaking to you anymore! La…la…la… fingers in ears!

But I’m inside of you…

I guess you’re a worm too then… damn! Now you’ve got me all confused!


Are you allowed to use a screen shot of a comment as your post image?

I don’t know… using it is how I will find out. They will let me know.

Are THEY related to THEM?

I’m done talking with you.


And so it begins…


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