Inside SHONG

Inside S.H.LONG The Real King of France

In 212 words

Don't think I don't know what you're saying.  “ But Rodge, that 395 word book you wrote below is 375 words longer than we care to read. ”  I know.  But, unlike my recent E-mail reading phobia - (Horry Clap -- I'm eating a SPAM, lettuce, onion and tomato sammich on Italian bread and it's GREAT!)  - anyway, unlike that phobia, I now understand my drive to put stuff in too many words, thanks to Charles Whitman. Yes, that Charles Whitman, the Texas Tower sniper. That's what I'm fixing to tell you.  I just this Sunday learned that the "small tumor" they found in Whitman's brain during his autopsy wasn't so "small."  It was glioblastoma, a highly cancerous and deadly tumor.  He would be dead within the year from it, if a sheriff's shotgun blast hadn't intervened.  But, to get back to my original thesis, among the symptoms of glioblastoma is a compulsion to write everything down.  Write, write write.  Words, words, words. See where this is headed? I haven't had an autopsy, but I do feel compelled to write stuff down, and I do own several sniper rifles, so take it from there.  I don't like looking down and seeing people with Obama T-Shirts.