Today, in Pheats of Phrasing: Penn Jillette’s Sock (2004).
Look at my eyes. Look at them. I told you to look at my eyes!
Look at my eyes! These aren’t giggly, jokey eyes to make babies giggle. My button eyes are like a shark’s eyes. Buttons from a sharkskin suit. My eyes have been fiddled with by a hustler. Nervously tapped by a bad man. My eyes are worn right in the center from the tapping of a diamond pinky ring. It was his gambler’s tell. When the owner of that expensive but cheap suit was lying, he’d click click click click his flawed diamond against the buttons of his suit jacket.
And he was lying all the time. Click click click click click. Those buttons are my eyes! They were always my eyes. They saw everything from the coat of a wheeler-dealer: Mr. Ferris, the big wheel down at the carny, Doctor, my eyes have seen the pain of a lying diamond. Black eyes. No emotion. Predator. Predator sock monkey. Bad monkey.
Your humble blogger/author (or “blogthor”) will be making regular postings of random passage excerpts from various tomes in his far-too-large library.