I wish I had a dollar for every time someone asked me if I watched Seinfeld during that show's run. I watched two episodes. Both of them were the one with the Soup Nazi.
I've been told it was a show about nothing. A show about nothing that lasted ten years. Pretty good run.
I do not intend to write about nothing for ten years. I do not think I have either that kind of time or that kind of interest in nothing. I would hope I will write about something eventually, but for now - today - nothing.
In The Neverending Story, Nothing is destroying the world. At one point, the author asks the reader to think of nothing. The reader learns this is impossible because even the word nothing conjures an image and nothingness has no image.
What's my point, you ask?
Even a blog about nothing must contain something, or it doesn't exist. Have we not heard how nature abhors a vacuum?
I would say that before I began to write, there was nothing here. Now there is something. With something, one can begin.
Where will I go? I don't know.
When will I stop? Not a clue.
Will anyone join me? That is an interesting question.
How many people joined Seinfeld?
I should be so lucky.