Wit

. . .Now there's the 'linguistic' spark for which I've sought. An extensive vocabulary is all very impressive and well, but what good are words if one doesn't know how to use them?
. . .I've a (now distant) friend whom I used to be close to. Unfortunately, it was the very lack of his ability to abstractly interpret my language that drove that novelty-sized wedge between us. He who would write and sing, yet he who has little if any appreciation for literature, linguistic wit and verbal repartee, one only wonders how he manages to survive in the world today. He who would be so gauche as to declare me as 'one of the most uncultured individuals' he's ever met. Seething indignation aside, I durst not venture to question whether he knew fully the meaning of the words he clumsily coughed out of his oral cavity. But let us mind not the idiocy of an entertainer.
. . .Resuming the topic at hand, how then, is one's wit developed? 'Tis obvious that frequent meetings with other intellectuals seems necessary, but yet something seems lacking. There is no formula for witty spontaneity. But yea, that is which is all to rare and precious in today's world. A wit for word. Waterloo has most definitely slain the feriocity with which I once used language. Perhaps in time I might hope to regain that which was stolen from me, but for now, immediate academics beckon.