(A Filthy Lie)
You ever have one of those days where you can’t think of a damn thing to write? Sure! We all do! Just look at IMAO on any given weekend.
But does it HAVE to be this way?
Glenn Reynolds posts at least 666 times a day, so I figured if anyone would know how to defeat writer’s block it would be Glenn. I arranged an interview with him recently where we discussed the subject. The transcript is in the extended entry.

HARV: So, Glenn, how DOES one overcome writer’s block? Is it done – as you seem to do – by picking single-word commentary at random off a list of meaningless interjections, or is there something else to it?
GLENN: Actually, the key to overcoming writers block is mental stimulation
HARV: You mean like the energy you get from chugging a Chihuahua?
GLENN: No, no… puppy shakes are more of a physical stimulant. They’re great if you need a little extra UMPH! for doing some high-kick spin-move while Robot Dancing, or if you’re planning on smacking Frank J. around like a hooker who’s skimming her trick money, but writer’s block is more of a mental problem. It means something’s not right in your brain, and it needs correcting.
HARV: Personally, I’ve always thought that about lawyers. So what IS a good mental stimulant?
GLENN: Well, writer’s block is a VERY stubborn thing. You have to tap into the most primal of emotions to find the energy to break through. Fear, anger, hatred…
HARV: Are we talking about writing or becoming a Sith Lord?
GLENN: Ya know, if Lucas would’ve tapped the Dark Side a little more, we could’ve avoided Jar-Jar entirely. But the point is that stimulating these emotions causes a strong wave of mental force… it acts like a battering ram, and it smashes clean through writer’s block.
HARV: Sorta like when Howard Dean hugged his inner idiot really hard and let his primal scream smash clean through his wall of restraint, dignity, and voter-appeal?
GLENN: Exactly… Here’s one of my favorite block-busters.
HARV: Glenn… this is just a lame-ass car commercial… this SUCKS!… if I wanted to watch a car commercial, I’d watch that thing with Paris Hilton wearing a teddy while washing a car and eating a hamburger. At least SOMETHING would get stimulated…
GLENN: Patience…
HARV: … or are you trying to tell me that boredom can help you break… AAAAAAAH! ZOMBIE! OH GOD! OH CRAP!
GLENN: Heh. Indeed. Stimulated yet?
HARV: If by stimulated you mean “wet my pants”, then – yes. You bastard! Why didn’t you tell me a zombie jumps up at the end? What kind of sick, twisted, sadistic monster ARE you?
GLENN: Lawyer.
HARV: Touché… But you know…I… I do feel like writing something…
GLENN: Oh?
HARV: Hmmmm… Heh… Indeed…
GLENN: Yes, my young apprentice… your journey to the Dark Side is now complete… Arise… Darth… Harvader.
HARVADER: INDEED… WHAT IS THY BIDDING, MY MASTER?
GLENN: You are to find Frank J. and punch him until he cries like a little girl. Shouldn’t take more than one hit to the shoulder.
HARVADER: HEH… AS YOU WISH… [picks up Glenn and prepares to throw him down an air shaft]
GLENN: Wait! What are you doing!
HARVADER: YOUR POWERS ARE WEAK OLD MAN. NOW I AM THE MASTER. [throws Glenn]
GLENN: Nooooooooooooooo! [falls out of sight]
HARV: Heh. Sucker. Instapundo Delenda Est!