Should I write something funny, wacky, zany?

Maybe something about something in the news in Finland?

Or maybe be an atheist and let the spittle of frustration fly, lathering many a deserving target?

Maybe some not-particularly-inspired fiction?

Or a touch of bad poetry?

Heck, just a Youtube clip of music?

Maybe I’ll just look at the files I keep the bits of dialogue and plot that occur to me in, and see if the latest was anything…

“Wh— wh— what?”

“Combat tentacles.”


“There are some for love, too.”

…well, surely there are other possible subjects for a blog post, too. Maybe I shall elucidate my academic work. Yes, I shall wax mightily — wait, no, “wax” is yet another euphemism for autoeroticism — write mightily about what I do all my days that’s not spent gabbing, drinking coffee, organizing my inbox and making little voodoo dolls of the Administration.

Yes! In mathematics—

We now use all these estimates on (3), subtract the right-hand side [NASTY INTEGRAL]-term from both sides (note that this leaves a positive [NASTY INTEGRAL]-term on the left-hand side), and multiply the left-hand side multiplier away. After this, we have [LOTS OF NASTY INEQUALITIES].

We add [SEEMINGLY BARKING INTEGRALS] to the left-hand side and to the first right-hand side term, and then divide with C. As a result, the multiplier of the first right-hand side term is C/(C+1) i.e. less than one, and we can use the usual elimination lemma (e.g. Lemma 6.1 in [HORRIBLE BOOK]) to get [MORE INEQUALITIES.]

— in mathematics, the actual written-down research isn’t all that glamorous, time to time, sad to say.

Ah! I know! Fan fiction! Here goes —

Inside a featureless white room, the Doctor fretted.

“Hey”, he said to no-one in particular, “there’s not even a door. Nothing to see; nothing to do; nothing is happening. This must be a prison in the shape of a writer’s bl—“

Ah, no fan fiction.

Not even a Harry Dresden/Potter crossover. (“‘The Boy Who Lived’? Most boys are. What’s the alternative, ‘Neverliving Fetus’?”)

Maybe some random good ideas.

Doesn’t “cack attack” sound like a good name for a band?


It doesn’t.

Ah, crap, go read accounts of epic shits on Reddit or something. (Really, do. They are very entertaining, as in, “the demon in my colon started to breathe” entertaining. I am reminded of a passage in a Finnish novel by Arto Paasilinna where the son of the chief god of the Old Finnish Gods has become a mortal, shits for the first time, and is rendered near speechless by the niceness of the act because gods never do it.)

One Response to “Blockage”

  1. Bob O'H Says:

    Funny how Rowling never tried out “The Boy Who’s Liver”.

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