The Inside Story
Volume 1 | Chapter 3 | 2023
The wildebeest named after a Norwegian town
I’m envious of anyone with fingers. Introducing myself would be a whole lot easier if I had ten digits instead of four cloven hooves. But things are getting better. I recently discovered speech-to-text dictation software. It’s amazing. I talk and, like magic, long stream-of-consciousness ramblings appear as vowels and consonants. Sadly, it always sounds better in my head than when it comes out of my mouth.
Editing takes up most of my time. There’s not much left to my dictation once I remove the expletives. And I’m always having to go back and delete phrases like “testing one two three” and “is this f*cking microphone on.” But that’s not the software’s problem. Creating a coherent sentence isn’t easy. The good part is, I can finally express my thoughts as my own — and talk to you directly. I’m no longer limited to articulating my ideas and observations at the back of the writer’s head hoping they somehow find their way out. Still, I wish I had fingers.
“Instead she got me, a foul mouthed bovid with an internet connection.”
Look at me, I’m chattering like a baby marveling at its own toes. But as with all stories, it’s important to know who’s telling it. After all, the narrator is the lens through which you will see things.
My name is Olden Gnu. I’m a wildebeest (a gnu) named after a Norwegian town (Olden). I’m not sure why my mother named me this. Perhaps she thought she’d have a son who would grow up to be as clean, crisp, and orderly as she imagined Scandinavia to be. Instead she got me, a foul mouthed bovid with an internet connection.
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