Socialism and Clickbait

It wasn't exactly easy getting my butt to the keyboard and motivated to write, this very, extremely, lazy Sunday afternoon. But I'm here and I *might* have things to say about things, damnit.  Gawd knows I had time to attack the Exercise and give it its daily do. Indeed, I had an entire three-hour window in which to log in and start writing. Even with laundry and lunch and various other chores beckoning and distracting, there was still plenty of time to pour myself into the project and keep the hope alive.  Yep, it was there. But then the kiddo got home and legos were built and football was on and I lost myself (not unwillingly) in the melee that is suburban home life. Not necessarily unhappily, but lost nonetheless. But now I'm here, and things are starting to rattle in the brainpan. And perhaps it's time to get down to business and put some effort into this thing.  I've been thinking a bit about the Biden classified documents "scandal" (yawn) today and t

I'm whipping this up at faster than normal speed this Friday because I'm under a bit of a crunch. Well, it's a self-imposed crunch, but it's 'a crunching nonetheless.  And yes, it is a Friday. Not sure why I had to throw that out there, but it made sense at the time.  This is completely aimless. I'm trying to work up an idea, any idea, on the fly, but not one has yet to travel past the neurons and out the fingertips. There are the standards about current events and politics and culture and social media, but I feel like nothing is really inspiring my brain to turn. Well, it's spinning, but in no particular direction. Kind of woozy, actually.  I'm thinking it's time to put this Exercise into action, adapt it to something more focused and consequential. Should that be a book, a sincere attempt at a topical blog, a stab at short story/creative writing/publication/contest?  Whatever it is, it needs to be something more fulfilling than this. I'm just n

Dr. Bob has occasionally crossed my mind during this Quixotodian quest. This is not only due to the somewhat Quixotidian nature of his own misadventuring (this may be a bit of a stretch), but also the nature of the Dr. Bob project itself, something that began with "noble" intentions but ultimately ended as a grand display of folly and poor self-analysis, as evidenced by hindsight and whatnot.  I think back now not to that whole book-writing misadventure but to the very impetus of the Dr. Bob character, the point that Dr. Bob first emerged as an inkling of an idea. It all started in the basement of a university's student commons building, either before or after a late-night campus radio extravaganza hosted by another relatively unknown character (Johnny Normal aka myself). Regardless, Dr. Bob may never have taken shape were it not for the discovery of a thin blue rain jacket with the words "Dr. Bob" embroidered on the upper left flank, nipple-level, spawning not

One of the main reasons for this exercise is to build enough muscle memory to resist the inclination to laziness while strengthening the resolve to write consistently, enough to form a reflex or behavioral impulse that makes the inclination to cave to idleness and do nothing little more than a faint husk of a whimper.  Of course, the idea is that with just a little fortitude at the beginning, fortitude itself will no longer be necessary. After a few weeks or months or even a year, you won't have to conjure up the motivation or wherewithal to sit down and put something on paper, you worthless puke you. Say that three times really fast and you may be more inclined than ever to develop a massive brain bubble and explode into 3313 tiny pieces. But before I got way off track here and started getting pedagogical, I was going to make a point about muscle memory, and why on this MLK Day of all days, I wanted to explore the idea of firming up habits enough to make bad impulses an afterthoug

Is writing any fun? Is it really like oxygen, rejuvenating and cathartic and all (underlay with Southern twang)? Is it really something you want to return to, day after day, or is it more of a self-imposed burden, hammered on yourself for no other reason than you're slightly good at it and hope against hope that it pulls your name and reputation out of the ordinary and into something actually meaningful? I don't know. Sometimes it really does feel like a chore, if I'm being honest. It can be a drag to lug my lazy frame over to the rolling office seat and impel (compel?) the wheels to act. It can be really tough sometimes to come up with something worthy to write about, and to translate that into something I would want to read.  But on such days, at least until now, I've been able to make it happen, to maintain the habit and get something, anything, out there. Because developing the habit is important. It provides the foundation for something bigger, perhaps even a writi

 I sat down here at the desk with the full intention of diving into this blog and tackling something, anything, that would perhaps exercise the ol' noggin muscle and get the digits tappin.  What happened instead was a near-instant diversion of time and energy into social media, which quickly grabbed my attention, beat it into submission, and refused to let me go outside for a little fresh air for a full fucking hour. The fact that I'm sitting here now rap-a-tap-tapping something into the machine is still a bit confounding, as I have no real clue how I evaded my captor and made it here before today's time was completely pissed away into oblivion.  Social media is tedious and boring. Yet, it's so incredibly easy to get pulled and locked into the spiraling nightmare of owns and bitching and sanctimony and nothingness, that it's a wonder half the population hasn't simply short-circuited and keeled over. Well, maybe it has. Maybe the endless b-roll of gotcha video cl