As anyone who pays attention to this blog has noticed (yes, both of you), I haven't had anything to write about lately. I've spent two weeks writing cheat entries like posting (bad) pictures of (good) food.
I've gone nearly four days without an entry of any kind, and this must stop. I've decided that my blog needs performance enhancing drugs. Not steroids...I can't really see how those would improve my creativity unless my outlet was sculpting giant blocks of wood with an axe. But something.
I couldn't decide on the right drug for me, so I evaluated several possibilities.
For writers, alcoholism has always just been a part of the job description. Rappers are misogynists, movie directors are coke fiends, and writers drink themselves to death. It's just what's done. Who am I to ignore the example set by Hemingway, Joyce, Capote or any of the multitude of others?
Pros: Gets you drunk. Makes you happy (for a while.)
Cons: Gets you drunk. Makes you happy (for a while.)
Conclusion: Writing is not fun, even for writers. Drinking makes you want to have fun. Not a good fit.
There is no great history of dope-smoking writers, the Beat generation excepted. And their output leads one to conclude that there is also no history of great dope-smoking writers. Furthermore, marijuana does not seem to inspire creativity aside from inventing a bushel of legitimate uses for hemp in the hope of fooling people into thinking the legalization movement is really about durable pants and strong rope. So why did I include marijuana in this evaluation? Because words...words...words... was bestowed with a generous honorarium from Woody Harrelson, Snoop Dogg, and a preponderance of Black Crowes.
Pros: Generous honorarium. Easily obtainable, especially in California.
Cons: Inspires nothing but the fortitude to sit through an entire Sanford And Son marathon on TV Land.
Conclusion: I would have to be high to think pot is the answer.
Crystal meth is the current darling of joke writers, probably because most of its enthusiasts are rather comical in ways that have nothing to do with drugs. Meth flourishes in dusty, dry small towns that offer no better entertainment than driving around and playing mailbox baseball or trying to score with your best friend's fifteen-year-old cousin. In other words, Nebraska, Texas and California. Meth makes you rob your family, makes your teeth fall out, and turns your skin into saddlebags. So while it has no direct link to creativity, meth cultivates the kind of rock-bottom despondence that often inspires great art.
Pros: Drags you from the middle class to the life of a toothless streetwalking junkie, thus attracting the attention of Hollywood producers.
Cons: Limited wardrobe consists mainly of wifebeaters, Lee jeans, and John Deere caps.
Conclusion: Crystal meth addiction represents a one-in-a-million shot to be the guy who finally becomes the Bukowski of trailer park drugs. In other words, even if you win, you lose.
After reviewing the available options, I have yet to find the right performance enhancing drug for my blog. I'll have to just keep slogging away like I'm walking in thigh high mud. In the meantime, dear readers, drug suggestions are more than welcome.