An English In Kentucky


















August 27th 2010    Tim Candler

    The fiction writer and the expert in memory share plot as their means to an end.   Association of events in a flowing stream produce this end.   A mind can memorize in sequence fifty four shuffled packs of cards, so long as there is story.   But not my mind.

    To the contrary, my mind tends toward the condition of staring into an emptiness where there is no breeze and out of which nothing emerges.  So news from the University of Liverpool in England, that the genome for Wheat has been deciphered interests me only to this extent - genome of  Wheat  is longer than a genome of my own species.  

   In plot there is a flow between what, why and because.   I suspect a triangle, because circles are endless and squares have dull and predictable points when put beside triangles. 

    Wheat is a union of three species of grass.   The complexity of that union supplies twenty percent of starch consumed by members of my own species.  And of course there is plot in the guise of an evil called Stem Rust that thrives under conditions of rainy-ness.  

     I suspect the plot of wheat will increase in complexity, so the plot of my own species might continue to circle.   But I wonder if Wheat yearns for a happier ending.

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