Just keep on keeping on!

Words stretching words into magnificent vistas of language. Words, little syllables joined together into grand or mundane meanings. If only those words could stream out more naturally...

As the word drought continues, becoming ever more and more serious, the mind drifts back to the previous droughts. Concentration meanders on, and then slowly sinks into wondering what finally broke the word jam that followed the Great Schism of 2001, or the defining event that re-enabled writing after submitting the thesis to end all theses (Even now the thought of that thesis wipes a thousand words off any post in preparation). What causes the wordjam, and what ends it? And is the jam the same as a writer's block? Is a writer's block real or merely made of phantasmic cabbage? Cancel the last thought, though, as that was silly.

A writer's block, as understood by this mad person, is the utter inability to write anything at all. A massive transparent block between the talented and their talent. A word jam on the other hand seems to be a cessation of meaningful content, a stutter in the ease of communication, or in the worst case a total lack of anything to write! Fortunately, after a lifetime of blithering inwardly, it's not too hard to overcome the final option...

<notes second use of ellipsis and declares them off limits. puts an alert next to parentheses.>

My own favourite - or least loathed jam - followed the traumatic events of the Summer of 2012. The details are irrelevant, except to the poor giraffe, but the Quirky Muffin was formed from the mess left behind. The essence of the Muffin, trivial and silly as it may be, has enforced a discipline in getting on with things that could have drifted away permanently. You've just got to keep on going, and that's what this post is really all about, plugging away until the good things run again. In fact, the very process of writing has again worked its wonders, and the inanity will trundle on into the coming months, interrupted though it may be the horrible effects of holidays, conferences and ponderings about penguins. Penguins and giraffes: The great essentials of modern philosophy.

The drought is over, and a pointless but coherent mass of words is accumulating. The word muscle is working again, and the world continues to spin. Note: If the world is not spinning wherever and whenever you might be, please disregard this passage. Not even a visit to the tea room taken moments before this very sentence could dim the vigour of suddenly flowing pointless prose. Behold, the hippo of silliness is roaring and spluttering! (They were just talking about football up there and being dull.) Not even writing past exam solutions can dim the wonder!

To the curry house, and don't spare the horses or that seat thing people used to carry dignitaries about in in medieval times. Oh, blast, a word has eluded the new Golden Age, albeit an utterly inconsequential one. And parentheses have to be off limits now, as well as colons. Blast and double blast.

Ha! Take that, believers in terminal word drought! Beware the Quirky Muffin!

O.


Service Announcement: For reasons of propriety, do not feed the author; He is very dangerous and not to be encouraged. Thank you.

PS The Quirky Muffin, flouter of colon restrictions since 2014.