

Discover more from Words From a Fool
Titles are important. Titles can be everything. In life, they assign value—or the perception thereof. That’s Sir Mister Dr., your Honor. A title is the first indicator of what a thing is, deliberately chosen as a means for drawing attention, a suggestion of what the coming subject is about.
The title of this publication, Words From a Fool, is one I’ve bounced around for quite some time now—on my personal website and on Instagram—and though I still like it for multiple reasons, I have come to recognize there’s a decent chance I may be misconstrued when it comes to my usage of the word ‘fool.’
You see, when I think of a fool, I tend to view the word through rose-colored glasses. The fool is an ass, yes—but what a lovely ass!
A fool, to me, is he who waters the world. And yes, I did come up with that line only after finding the above image, but it fits my meaning perfectly. He is a person who is wonderfully naive, who has so much to learn—who wants to learn and is learning—who brings to life all new things via methods considered improbable or impossible by conventional means. He is a clown only through the eyes of the true buffoons who wear glasses of the kaleidoscope variety, their visions so distorted they stumble across the earth with an unearned sure-footedness of knowing where it is they are actually going.
So, yes: I am a fool. And a proud one at that.
Must I truly assign worry that my message is being lost in translation before the actual message is relayed? How much does the title to this publication really matter? When I scroll through the Substack Discovery Page, I try to imagine how Words From a Fool fits in with all the other publication titles. Placing myself in the discoverer’s shoes, as warranted, I assume pre-conceived notions based on the standard definition, which describes the fool as being silly and imprudent. This is no bueno. Not how I wish to be seen.
I care a whole helluva lot, and yet I try not to take myself seriously. I try and I try. In life and through words, I try always to remain truthful—to myself and everyone I interact with. The world rapidly changes but we do not. We are low-key still animals; biological beings plagued by evolutionary quirks. We are posturing scoundrels. The computer in my pocket does not make me smart. It makes me stupid. So, when I take to the page, I am trying nothing more than to uncover the essence of what it means for me to be alive here on this earth, because there’s nothing I’ve found more appealing than a creature of our genus who is pure in honesty.
And that is what this publication aims to be about—starting with the title.
When I awoke this morning, I had the sudden conviction that this publication might be better served with a different title, something more “discovery-friendly,” something more “professional” to describe the themes of which I’ve just discussed.
Something like: Low-Key Human. Where I’d be using ‘low-key’ under the context of the slang definition: an adverb meaning “in a way that is moderate or limited.” Hell, I even low-key wrote a whole draft about this name change. It was going to be a very important announcement.
But then I changed my mind. Again. Because why change what’s true? I am a fool. And these are my words.
I say this and, at the same time, I’m still unsure enough to honestly ask: What do you think? Am I shooting myself in the foot here? Am I a (bad) fool for calling myself a (good) fool? Oh, god—Is the almighty algorithm going to look down upon me?!
The only alternative I came up with lends to a lame logo, that’s for sure.
Yet, all this yada yada is to say nothing changes. At least for now. I use the word ‘fool’ as a term of endearment, and I will continue to operate under this title unless, from the ether, there comes another which is better suited. I am open to suggestions.
And to anyone who’s just finding these Words From a Fool, or who’s been wondering about the meaning behind this publication’s title, and why I continue to use it, hopefully this better helps to explain.
That is all for now.
Au revoir, à la prochaine, you lovely fools!