Six Second Sentence -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


It’s Wednesday. About 6:24 in from work. Warm-up. For tomorrow’s Six Sentence Story. zoe wants us to write them. Yeah, and no, I doubt I can keep it up. Papa clark (which so does not work the way that it should).

Anyway. Six Sentences with a prompt word: SECOND  You write a story, six and only six sentences and you send it in. We read it. We comment.

Pretty simple, isn’t it?

(Here’s an idea for a Six that I hope will go away before I have to use it: write a story in six seconds. Can’t be done. Can it?) (Planning ahead would not be cheating would it?)

Gotta think about this, gimme a second.


The speaker shouted sincerely to the crowd, cheerfully strident words of welcome and projectile enthusiasm,  “How’s everyone feeling this morning! Are you a leader or are you a second bite of the apple person!?”

The man raised an eyebrow and smiled at the promise of an entertaining morning in the overly air-conditioned hotel ballroom in the capital city.  His companion, less experienced in the secular revival-meeting atmosphere of overhead projectors, colorful charts with blurred legends in blue and red on slightly wrinkled projection screens, played with her phone, checking and re-checking her email. From where the two sat, the lower half of the main screen was obscured by shifting forest of polished bald heads and elaborate piles of desperately youthful, blonde hair of real estate agents and brokers, a congregation of well-heeled faithful in pews of metal and plush upholstery, eagerly waiting on the next sermon of self-empowerment.

As the emcee confidently informed the gathering that the next speaker would share a secret that would be worth much, much more than the price of admission, his companion leaned over and said, “Wait a second, that’s it?! What is this, a shaggy dog Six Sentence Story?”

He smiled, his eyes glowing with compassionate wisdom and whispered, “Shh, most of these people are very young and probably don’t know what a shaggy dog story, and besides, since the advent of texting and twitter, they have become nearly extinct.”







Today I have to leave early. Morning is my time to write.
If I can’t come up with something by five thirty,
I won’t return until mid-afternoon.

The pressure on! Just give me a second.

It may not make sense, and syntax will be lacking, but if nothing else it will be a six.


-the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘of rogerian expressions and insides into the worlds of scotts’

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

CSR copy

I thought I had anticipated every possibility and worried because if things started moving too quickly, there was a chance that I would get blind sighted.”

How long has it been since we’ve heard a new rogerian expression? As I type, I’m trying to remember the source of this most excellent of rhetorical terrorism, courtesy of our friends-in-the-Herd. No luck, can’t remember where I read it, however, I do know that I recognized it instantly. There is that existential stutter followed by a burst of surprised laughter that is characteristic of a true rogerian expression.

On another note: I was talking to a scottian friend/work associate and one thing led to the other and, in the spontaneous (and totally metaphorical) wrestling matches that frequently occur when a scott is involved, came the following:

scotts act (in order) to think

clarks think (in order) to act

being a scott, she affected to not enjoy the insight that resulted. scotts have that innate sense of control and will not play games they are not totally familiar with, at least not for too extended a period of time.

This sort of reminds me of the fun of the early days of Doctrine posts, when everything was new and the excitement was everywhere. It was fun to write posts because the Doctrine was in full self-reveal mode. Someone would say something and the next thing we knew I’d be writing about how rogers have a very distinctive relationship with towels (the cloth type, bath towels mostly, all through dish towels are not totally innocent). And how scotts, when in public but not in the spotlight, will self-narrate their actions and behavior.

Thats back when 500 words was a decent length post.

Guess that’s about it.

…oh, yeah  that post with the funny object in it, this weekend past?  It was a candle molder.


and, in keeping with the retro-ness of today’s post, here’s a music video of a song that I’ve got stuck in my head.


TTOT -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


cool thing in a clients’ house… I actually had to ask what it was

There’s an old saying, ‘a good thing that is shared, will never be lost’. This would very much be the case with the TToT. Originally created by Lizzi Lewis and shepherded through the early years (see photos below*), Our Miz Lewis did what all successful people do, she shared a passion.

Josie** has taken up the (there should be some humorous analogy here, but I can’t think of one). Bottom line, she has taken the helm and the Ten Things of Thankful bloghop continues. The ‘rules’ are simple: share ten things that/for which you are grateful for, from the week immediately behind us or any time.

1) Lizzi for creating this thing

2) Josie for continuing this thing

3) the internet for providing the place for this thing

4) my work for allowing me the resources to afford the technology to access this thing

5) Phyllis for creating an environment in which I have become increasingly aware of the parts of my life that I can reference in this thing

6) the reasonable good-sense (almost) to know when a semi-clever rhetorical thing has run it’s course, (fans of horses will applaud this description)

7) Una for being a constant power of example

8) I’m grateful for having come to know Almira Ristani Gulch, the co-central character in ‘Almira’

9) I’m tempted to say, I’m grateful for having gotten this far in a list, which by virtue of being the first in the new order (of Ten Things of Thankful) without getting too weird

10) I glad that I didn’t




*and, before anyone find themselves thinking, ‘my god is she all right?’ let me say, ‘of course she is, she’s a clark and anyone can tell you, clarks are the damn Phoenixeses of personality types’. We keep doing creative things, establish them in the ‘real’ world and then, finding our endless curiosity pulling on our shirttails, wander off to find new and interesting ways to burst ourselfs into flame  (to the wonderment of our friends and the amusement of ourselves at how, ‘we’re alway doing that!’)

** Josie, aka Wendy Harris  (hey zoe! could you explain to Josie how change resistant I am to name in the ‘sphere? (go ahead and leave out the part about chronic-passive-aggressive, ego-centric insistence…. ok?”

So below here are the collection of photos I’ve acquired (no, I said she’s doing fine)…. tell me about clarks and chameleons

fce42d99cc79af0dfc9d6c114ff601e9photo-2Tigger roarWakefield Needles 4 good

(I hope Lizzie doesn't mind my borrowing the photo)

…tell me that the TTofT is not a good thing

Wakefield Balcony



Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘take seven!’

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


Another Thursday slips and slides towards us, a drunken elephant accidentally delivered to the ice fields of the Canadian Northwest rather than the arid savannahs of Equatorial Botswana, it’s only consolation being the 180 proof amnesia that will welcome the pachyderm, bruised knees and sore trunk on the following morning.

Ahem! sorry for the odd warm-up. This is, of course, zoe’s Six Sentence Story. The Six Sentence Story bloghop is where each week, our host, zoe, offers a prompt word and invites us to write a story, six sentences in length. It’s fun. You should try it?


The cast iron sink was old and it was nearly empty. The years showed in the worn enamel, now the ancient pale of an attic-baked newspaper, its original self not entirely covered in ink-bled words. The pitted chrome faucet aimed it’s perfectly formed drops at the bullseye of the drain, a dark sun, shiny edged with a pale green halo. An empty can of Campbell’s Vegetable Beef Soup, its thin metal top tipped at an angle, the lid of a toilet frozen in nearly-open/ almost-banging-shut position, sat to the right of the drain, silent witness to the single drop deluge. Suspended beneath the long, smooth neck of the faucet, like a lifeboat stuck between a massive ship and the stormy sea, was a wire-frame basket, a red and blue dishrag strangled itself, lengths of rough-smooth cloth hanging limply over the sides.

Leaning against the sink’s voluptuously rounded edge, the young man felt the touch of warm flesh against his back and resolved, in the eternally sincere desperation of morning, to find the path that would allow ‘what might be’ to have equal footing next to ‘what probably would be’.



-the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘I replace the broken keyboard and the first thing I post is a ‘re-print’!?! who’s a clark? lol

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


Yes, I did buy a new keyboard. That means…. it’s ok to make mistakes because I have a delete key once again. lol  no, seriously …. I can!

Today is, of course, Valentines Day and being a High Faux Holiday in the Ecclesiastical Calendar of Hallmark, I naturally thought to write a post. Trouble is, I’ve been writing this blog since 2009. I may have written myself out. (The one saving grace: since I’ve been writing about the Doctrine since July 2009, I’ve been doing little else, (‘if it’s worth doing, it’s worth over-doing.’) Maybe something has happened in my life in the intervening 5 or 6 years that I haven’t discovered yet! oh boy!)

Anyway. I need to work on the final Chapters of ‘Almira‘ so here’s a Post from 2012, titled:

“St Valentine, was he a roger or was he a clark…the Wakefield Doctrine deals with the important questions of the day.”*

no, it's ok! I'm a Saint

“No, it’s ok! I’m a Saint.”

St Valentines is the worst, most contrived and cynical, gyno-centric guy-bait(ing), toy-with-the-emotions-of-innocent-bystanders, holiday on the whole damn calendar. Of course we are all familiar with the origin of the holiday and the internet is positively turgid with countless blogs, and stories and articles that tell us all about Hallmark and the candy industry and the rest of the sordid tale of this day in February. I will not try to compete with these other more skilled and capable Commentators ( and -torinis), as I do not have the time or the ‘writing chops’ to do such a ripe topic justice. Instead, let me tell you about my most lasting memory of Valentines Day.

Third grade, parochial school (St. Imelda) and a classroom of 25 students. The boys were required to wear blue shirts and blue ties with OLM printed on the front, fortunately ‘clip-on ties’ had been invented by this time, so easy-peasy; the girls wore the catholic school uniform, i.e. plaid skirts white shirt, socks. damn, little did I realize at that pre-pubescent time of my life how potent that little Roman Catholic Church fashion dictates would become for me and countless other men at a later stage of life.
So with much fanfare, Valentine’s Day arrives and we 9-year-old boys and girls are told that in the afternoon, before the end of the school day, we would have time to deliver our Valentine cards to each other. ( The day before we spent ‘Art Period’ making little baskets out of construction paper and taping them to the front of our desks. These would serve as ‘mailboxes’ for the cards we would receive the next day).
The thing was, the horrible twist to this introduction to the world of love, relationships and rejection was that, the time when class stopped and we were allowed to get up and deliver our little cards was not the end of the school day! It was right after lunch… and it lasted 15 or 20 minutes…as in ‘ now return to your desks and we will continue with the afternoon’ classes’. To sit for 90 minutes staring at the contents of the container on the front of my desk… I will leave it to the Reader to decide the emotional landscape of that afternoon on a February 14th.

Anyone out there not comfortable with finishing the story, or satisfied with their conclusion of this little tale, write us a Comment! Regular Readers Students of the Doctrine know that the rogers gave the biggest cards, the scotts received the most cards and the clarks delivered the most cards(….secretly without the recipient ever knowing who the really fun card came from.)

Now I better get back to work, before I get in trouble.


*edited for content and times**

** as in, ‘to account for the experience of (the) reality during which the events forming the subject of the post actually occurred and the effect of the passing time since, and it’s effect on the author.

ok, Back to Almira and the story of two girls growing up a lifetime apart but meeting once before parting.


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