Even as I bask in the thrill of last night's victory, I know the blinking cursor is calling in reinforcements. He'll likely attack when I'm most vulnerable—those hazy hours between 10 and 11 AM—and decimate my confidence and self-esteem before I have any chance to retaliate. But what he doesn't know is that I have a secret weapon, that one thing that even the most defeated writer has at his disposal: the ability to spew forth heaping piles of bullshit.
First discovered thousands of years ago, bullshit is the go-to weapon of choice when dispatching the blank page. No matter what the odds, you can always count on bullshit to clear a path to victory. In the eternal struggle of man vs. words, it is the great equalizer, filling up empty spaces so quickly that you wonder why you didn't think about harnessing its power sooner. But, as Peter Parker's uncle once told him, "With great power comes great responsibility." Which just means that you can't bullshit forever. At some point you have to write something of value, but in a pinch (or when you're writing just to get in the habit of writing), it can be the greatest ally you have.
Hey, what do you know? That's two fucking posts in two days. You can taunt me all you want, but I'm still gonna keep swinging.
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