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    Writer's Block Sucks

    By Orlando on Wed, 11/04/2009 - 5:51pm | Personal

    You know what else sucks?

    Republicans. Because they hold a minority opinion and lost an election (several elections, actually) but are holding policy hostage anyway.

    Democrats. Because they are so scared to lose their majority that they’d rather hide under their desks than to do what they were elected to do (hint: LEAD).

    Blue Dog Democrats: Because they’d rather make plays to increase their power base than do what they were elected to do (hint: LEAD).

    Global Warming. Because it’s not like we’re getting a payoff of eternal summer. It’s just fucking with the global climate, creating weird weather and destructive storms.

    Bankers. You know why.

    Liz Cheney. Because she has absolutely nothing original to say, has accomplished nothing of great note in her life, and is spending any professional capital that she might have defending her daddy. I’m going to start a new non-profit: “Serious Therapy for Liz Now”

    War. Because no matter how primitive and violent the human race happens to be at its core, war never solved anything for more than a couple of decades, and always at enormous cost to all sides.

    Political Media. Because they care more about the flash than the substance and they have been contributing to the dumbing down of America for too many years.

    Puppies, bunnies, kitties, heart-shaped candies, rainy days that can’t be spent in bed with a good book, Michael Bay movies, bigotry, grief, traumatic brain injury.

    And George W. Bush.

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    Comments

    I'm totally annoyed with the congressional democrats for allowing the republicans to hijack so many aspects of the national policy debate.


    by David (not verified) on Wed, 11/04/2009 - 6:48pm

    I know, right? They suck.


    by Orlando on Wed, 11/04/2009 - 6:48pm

    Writer's block, eh? I've heard that's a drag.


    by William K. Wolfrum on Wed, 11/04/2009 - 6:50pm

    You suck too.

    It's not exactly writer's block. It's that every time I try to write something, after one or two paragraphs I somehow find myself circling around to my mom again. And I'm pretty much done sharing, so I hit the backspace and grab my Kindle instead. Perhaps I just need to increase my chocolate intake. Hmmmmm.


    by Orlando on Wed, 11/04/2009 - 7:38pm

    I'm with you. I've come so close to writing the single best blog ever written (high bar, right?), and yet, nothing for a couple weeks now. I just know y'all are all waiting on bated (or is that baited?) breath for what I write next.


    by Nebton on Wed, 11/04/2009 - 7:42pm

    I'm waiting. But mostly cuz your avatar is pretty.


    by Orlando on Wed, 11/04/2009 - 7:48pm

    Hi, O: I hadn't connected your reduced profile here with the loss of your mother; I figured it was just natural ebb and flow. But it makes perfect sense, and I can assure you it's not a unique reaction.

    My own mother died Sept. 29. Same damn disease. As her condition deteriorated over that last month, and the prognosis became undeniable, I basically stopped posting and commenting (causing great concern in the dagblog board room, I'm sure). There were thoughts and emotions I wanted to share, but they wouldn't translate into words. Just like I couldn't deliver the eulogy I wrote the day before the funeral; thankfully, my sister did a great job with hers, and the priest had a Bible passage he let me read instead. 

    I fully expected to bounce back within a week or so. After all, my mother's death had not been a surprise; she was 88 going on 89 and the disease had been taking its toll for years. On a few occasions, I prepared myself to get back in the blogging game, collecting quotes, links and thoughts on issues I really cared about. Then the transience of it all would hit me, and I'd write nothing, post nothing.

    Nothing has really changed, except that I couldn't let your post about "writer's block" go by without tellng you that you are not alone in this. I know you said you were all through sharing, but I'm glad you did once again.


    by acanuck on Fri, 11/06/2009 - 3:20am

    And I can't believe you really think puppies and bunnies suck. I mean, look at them.


    by acanuck on Fri, 11/06/2009 - 3:23am

    I'm so sorry about your mom, acanuck. I did wonder where you were and I'm glad you are back.


    by Orlando on Fri, 11/06/2009 - 6:25am

    Ac, I'm very sorry to hear about your mother. I had also wondered where you'd disappeared to, and I'm also glad that to have you back. With only one Canadian curmudgeon hanging around, the site seems somehow unbalanced.


    by Michael Wolraich on Fri, 11/06/2009 - 10:45am

    Acanuck, I wanted to respond in a little more detail to your comment. Time prevented me yesterday, so I'm sorry for the terse "I'm sorry."

    Your comment really resonates with me. The thoughts and emotions that you'd like to share, but can't put into words--that's exactly what I've been feeling since June. My mom's death has profoundly changed me, and I don't yet understand exactly how. There's a little bit of the trite "I need to live life to the fullest" and a little bit of "Wow, I actually came out the other side of this." And also, the grief hits me in strange and unexpected ways at strange and unexpected times. But mostly there's a strange sort of clarity about how nothing is permanent and everything is in constant motion.

    I can't believe you spoke at all at your mom's funeral. For two or three weeks after my mom died, I was in this bizarre fog. At my mom's memorial, I sort of wandered around numbly, waiting for somebody to put another glass of wine in my hand. I'm pretty sure people talked to me, but I don't have much recollection of it.

    Anyway, I'm so sorry for your loss and I understand it. It doesn't matter how old she was or how long she was sick. There's still a cold finality and a big empty space when it's over. May you find your peace.


    by Orlando on Sat, 11/07/2009 - 11:59am

    Very good to see you, acanuck - and sorry for your loss. I lost my brother in March, and it has only been this past week that I feel as though my mind, and my organism, is working at all properly. It's just hard to explain, but the transience of it all really struck home. Hard to take a lot of the world's nonsense seriously, eh?

    Fortunately, some things are eternal. Go Leafs! Habs Suck!

    Wink


    by quinn esq on Sat, 11/07/2009 - 5:18pm

    Thank you all, virtual friends. "Transience" was the word I used, and it's one quinn picked up on above. Orlando spoke of "clarity." I get what she means, but it's an odd kind of clarity that leaves you puzzled about what exactly you've learned or are in the process of learning.

    It may be true of any long-term fatal illness -- but certainly true of Alzheimer's -- that the survivors' "grief" gets paid out on the instalment plan. So at the end, there's only a small, manageable payment to make. "The Long Goodbye" is the cruel but accurate description. I've felt the grief of the sudden, unexpected loss of a loved one, and that's not what's in play here.

    It's like trying to focus on two things at different distances: the gradual loss of a person over many years (shared memories, etc.) and their final, permanent physical absence. It feels like there's some kernel of wisdom, some deeper understanding of life and death, that is lying there in plain sight, but I'm failing to grasp it.

    And I know I'm doing it right: neither resisting the knowledge nor trying to force it. Maybe more time is the missing ingredient. So I'll wait. But my mother lovingly raised five children on her own after being widowed at 33. The least I can do is extract the maximum value from her life and death.


    by acanuck on Sun, 11/08/2009 - 2:00am

    That's so beautifully put and so echoes my experience. It's really nice to know that, as alone as I sometimes felt over the past 15 years, the overall experience is somewhat shared by others going through it.


    by Orlando on Sun, 11/08/2009 - 9:19am

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