My blog posting has been in a brief hibernation. When I pull up my web page and see an article up from a week and a half ago, feel a drive to update and add something new. Then I feel weird when I start up a word processing program and start to write and nothing bubbles to the surface.

Which stultifying topic of suburban banality can I focus on first? The mildly cold weather that's freezing my overly sensitive appendages? The stinking economy that's eaten up 8% of my net worth in the last month and a half? My days of toil and drudgery over loveless lines of computer code? Barack Obama trouncing McCain with a vengance that will shake the political landscape so emphatically, you might feel it as a small earthquake on November 5th?

"How can I tie them together," I ask myself, "in a witty and conversationally folksy combination of semi-stilted dialog and thorough midriff analysis?" The answer is elusive. By the time I get to typing I've over-thought the whole thing into a completely abstract state and it's like I'm standing around wearing my twitter shirt.

You guys are way classier than that, and you deserve a better quality of navel gazing and meta reprisals. That's why I'd sooner write nothing at all than torture your artistic souls with mindless mediocrity.

To those of you who have voiced your concern and inquired to my health and lack of posting here lately, thank you, I'm fine, just haven't had a very friendly muse lately. Soon enough I'll find that intersection of stress and anger that causes art to rush out out me, but right now I'm too apathetic and shell-shocked by the world as it stands. I'll be back. Lastly, to those of you who said "you suck, your stupid feed sucks, and I'm totally not reading your blog anymore, loser," (not an exact quote) I wish you best of luck in your election.

(Notice how it wound up being abrasively meta after all? I'm crafty like that.)

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