Nothing to see here

Here we go again. I find myself staring at this blank screen, waiting for inspiration to strike. Or perhaps a gentle nudge from the universe that says, “Hey, try writing about this.” But no such luck. And here I am. Again. Writing about having nothing to write about.

After a couple thousand or so blogposts, I have to ask the question: have I officially emptied the well? Have I said everything I need to say? Have all the words been used up? Do I need to start communicating exclusively in interpretive dance? (Don’t tempt me—I will do it and it won’t be pretty).

Truth be told, the world continues to provide plenty of material. The problem is, none of it is particularly funny these days.

We’ve got Cadet Bone Spurs speedrunning the destruction of democracy. The Constitution? Holding on by a thread. Institutional norms? Shredded, torched, and fed to whatever lives in the basement at Mar-a-Lago.

Meanwhile, my attempts at humor feel like bringing a water pistol to a four-alarm fire.

So, here I am, once again writing about how I have nothing to write about. I’ve done it before (here), and I’ll do it again. (See? I’m already repeating myself.)

While I wait for either inspiration or full-blown existential despair to light a fire under me, allow me to direct you to some wordsmiths who do have something to say: Rich Siegel over at RoundSeventeen and Jeff Eaker at Kingdom of Failure. Both are far more talented, far funnier, and quite possibly better-looking than me.

Okay, I’m joking about that last one. And maybe one of the other two. After all, no one’s under oath here.

Is there really nothing left to say? Or, more importantly, how many more times can I get away with writing a blogpost about having nothing to write about.

Stay tuned. Hopefully it won’t be for nothing.

And we're back

It’s the age old question: if a blogger puts up a post in the forest, does it make a difference? Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly how it goes but you get my continental drift.

There’s no easy way to say it, so I’ll just own it. When it comes to timely RNB postings, for the past year I’ve been what I would euphemistically call slacking. You might call that old news.

Whichever, the truth is that the divisive mood of the country, lack of anything meaningful to say (like that’s ever stopped me before) and much better bloggers than myself—I’m looking at you Round Seventeen, Kingdom of Failure and AdAged—have all conspired to put me in a “yeah, I’ll get around to it when I get around to it” frame of mind for some time now. In fact the last new post I put up here was on 9/12 talking about 9/11.

But it’s time to change my evil lazy ways. It’s a new year, and with it comes a new attitude.

All of us here at Rotation and Balance International Headquarters have renewed our commitment, yet again, to being much more prolific this year. Which given the underwhelming 2023 output shouldn’t be too hard.

Now, you might ask yourself what's brought on this renewed energy for filling up blank pages with my musings and ramblings. Well here it is.

I saw someone online refer to Cadet Bonespurs as IQ45. I’m not missing any chances to use that one.