Why does blue ink seem so transitory, lack the authority of funereal black. Surely the blue reading experience should be as, if not more, enjoyable. The colour of summer sky's, the paradise seas and majestic in life should please and intrigue, seduce and entice. But does the levity and seriousness of authoritarian black, the ink of birth and death, marriage & divorce, freedom and confinement; officialdom, not improve and increase the power and meaning of the written word? Are you truly weak of mind for being attracted to green ink? Is it not just a more pleasant writing experience? Or is it the literary equivalent of the winking tic? Worn with pride by the terminally annoying, the office “joker”. That pitifully persistent people pleaser, them middle aged “still with parents” domiciled.
