Thursday, May 18, 2006


Seventeen days since last I posted. Why is this thus? What is the reason for this thusness? So Artemus Ward asked, and so ask I.

In a word, writersblock. The half-arsed Lewd, Gory and Crude was a harbinger of nothingness to come: no songs have been haunting me; no ideas have been percolating in my subconscious; no taglines have popped up unbidden. My daily commute, heretofore spent gazing into the middle distance and allowing my jaw to slacken and my mind to wander, is now spent doing the London Times crossword in the Nyok Post, followed by the medium su doku, the easy su doku, the maddeningly ill-set Scrabble-gram, and, finally, the little puzzle that asks you to find a certain number of five-letter words in a given word. By the time I've finished the last, I've reached my desk, and another day is shot to hell. The sad truth seems to be that I'm simply songed out. Some new approach is needed. But what?

Next Saturday, I meet my DAMP again, in hopes of jump-starting the demo CD that got derailed after I learned that compulsory mechanical licenses could not be got for song parodies through Harry Fox. We've decided that the publishers' lack of response to our direct inquiries for royalty information indicates that they can't be bothered with nickels and dimes, so we'll just go ahead and pay 'em later, if they ever send in a bill.


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