More on Nothing

I haven’t mentioned nothing in a while. The last time was here.

If I weren't not doing anything, I'd make it a point to do nothing.

Since I’m here though, I’ll go ahead and write a new post. I enter today’s post with the same intention I’ve entered almost every other post. I intend to write an intelligent, thought-provoking post that will both move and educate you and move you to educate yourself about movement.

As I strike the first few keys of my trusty keyboard keys, I realize that I’ve got nothing. Wasn’t it Robert Newhouse who once said, “Good intentions are like leading a horse to hell”? I may be paraphrasing just a bit, if not completely fabricating a falsehood, but the important thing is that you are moved and enlightened.

Did I mention enlightenment? I meant to say “enlighten” instead of “educate,” but don’t quote me on that.

I can’t decide which my favorite food is: pizza or chili. According to the Wall Street Journal, this post puts me at just over 10,000 posts. I may be exaggerating just a bit, if not completely lying, but the important thing is that I’ve got nothing.

Can someone please explain to me how I make it a point, day in and day out, every other day, to take a little time to write about nothing? How is it that I am able to write so much about so little? How much time have I wasted? How many words have I typed? Is rain happy? How many KBs of web server space have I used up with nothing?

I intend to get to the bottom of this. I am going to add it to the top of my list…somewhere near item number 3 or 4…somewhere below my top priority, which is to compose what I like to call a “To Do” list.

So with that knowledge, I encourage you to create a whole new world for yourself and go take it on. You can’t call your new world Mildred though. That name is taken. Grab your new world that you didn’t name Mildred by the tail and swing it around like a stray cat. I don’t mean a real stray cat. I mean a strictly proverbial stray cat. Like the one that lives in the ditch outside the courthouse in your back yard.

Now, go in peace.