I, Blockhead

"No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money."

Samuel Johnson

Today marks the one year anniversary of my internet debut. (My blogiversary is still a month off.) On October 7, 2004, Democratic Underground ran my piece “It’s the Stupidity, Stupid.” I’ve been vomiting forth ever since. The tally: 30 pieces, mostly on Raw Story, over the course of the year. That’s 30,000 words, give or take – about a third of an average novel. All of which has made me rich beyond dreams of avarice…not.

A year ago, I was optimistic that we would be able to unseat the dim bulb dauphin. That smile turned upside down on Election Day, and I went through a period of dark, bitter rants.

Much has changed in the last few months (for which I will continue to decline credit, your gushing praise to the contrary), and I have reached a place of, perhaps, dark optimism. But I still devote hours to pro bono wordsmithery, which means I am still a blockhead.