February 6th, 2003
Dear Sir or Madam,
You are not going to believe this. As strange as it may seem, I really have nothing to say this week. Words have failed me. I am speechless, vacant, brain-dead and bereft of ideas.
Oh, I can already hear you scoff, from Bellingham to Brisbane and round to Burlington; from Durban to Dallas and Dublin; from Melbourne to Munich and back to Manchester I hear your gasps, your sighs, your incredulities.
'It can't be!'
But it's true. And writer's block is not a thing that name brand laxatives or even a good enema can fix. Certainly not in time to meet a deadline.
Most professional hacks encounter this sort of mental stoppage from time to time and are prepared to deal with it. One way is to have something written ahead of time, get a few articles in the bag, put a few away for the dry spell. But I am not a professional hack, I'm just a hack. Heck, I'm not a professional anything.
Apparently, the other big trick they use is to just ramble on, muttering barely intelligible thoughts in a grand and pretentious way. Pad, fluff, stuff it up with dross, spin the cotton candy and pull the wool over everyone's eyes. The pros can say nothing and say it profoundly, with style and at length, defying gravity with their spinning while weaving a new suit for the Emperor from the vaccuum of their minds.
Not me. That would not be honest or true and I owe it to you to be at least honest. Some of you may know, that to me, Truth is Life is Beauty and Beauty is Truth and Life. I can't lie. To deny Truth is to deny Life and to deny Beauty. I cannot lie.
So when words 'fail me' I can only fall blankly into a stunned silence. Without two thoughts to rub together I simply quit and resign myself to staring into the oblivious ghostliness of a fresh white sheet of paper. Like snow, falling for thousands of miles, upon the frozen tundra.
According to Robert's Rules of Order, when one finds they 'have nothing to say: shut up.' So I will. But first let me tell you about next week's column. I'm quite excited to promise you a real 'hotty' Valentine . Yes, a true story from the extensive memory files of my very own personal lovelife .
Actually, that's probably why I have nothing to say this week. I've been so busy working on next week's. Oh, you're gonna love it. If I get it finished on time.
Hoping you may simply ignore and forgive these ramblings,
I remain, asleep in front of the television set, hoping for,
Infinite Improbability Drive
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