Death by Chocolate

To whom it may concern,

I don't know why I did it. But I admit it was a horrible mistake. There are explanations which I want to hide behind, but let's cut to the chase. It was just simply too long. I know it, you knew it (Oh, how I could tell you knew it!), and I apologise. I swear I don't love the sound of my own voice. I know it's hard to believe, but despite the evidence I really did attempt to edit that talk. Was it ruthless? Hardly. But without ruth it should have been, indeed. I know you think I must have included everything I learnt while locked in my study planning my verbal indulgence, but this too is mistaken. Why, were I to be even more deluded it appears I could have spoken for eternity.

I was merely ill-disciplined. It is all one can say, as they access the damage. A lack of self-control. Why won't I just be quiet already and sit down?

Now to be fair, there are a series of reasons for my excessive length which offer if not justification, at least move towards explanation. For the aforementioned sermon series was originally conceived for a university meeting where I had up to 40 minutes to speak. Having been conceived in this particular forum the thrust of the argument was necessarily detailed. Yet when it came to editing, I had in my mind gained a personal attachment to the detail of the logic. I had, to some degree firmly attached myself as some kind of leech, to the points which I was making. Unable to be prised from the conceptual broader talk structure, deletions became necessarily difficult to entertain (though I certainly tried). Furthermore, when covering three chapters of the Bible, there is inevitably going to be some length necessary to faithfully represent the Biblical text. And yet, when I sit back and reflect, none of these "reasons" are any real "reason" at all. No, these are merely the final repulsive, dying convulsions of a serial bore.

Well, here it is: my vow.

Next week, for my final talk I shall not pass 22 minutes. Even if this means deleting literally every second sentence of my existing script wherefore the meaning of my speech may become somewhat irretrievably veiled. This drastic step may not be necessary, but I shall not pass 22 minutes, I will not pass go, and I will not collect $200.

To scoop from the pit of empty cliches, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Never again shall I force feed the congregation my seemingly unending drivel, at the cost of brevity and clarity.

I am, as it were, a new man.