Writer's Block

I would be really happy if "writer's block" was merely a delicious salt lick. Does anyone remember that Simpsons episode in which the doctor explains to Mr. Burns that the only thing keeping him alive is a perfect balance of every imaginable disease? This is the state of the ideas in my mind. They are all trying to get through the door at once, so I cannot get any of them out. That and I'm feeling lazy and contemplating further academic suicide. Perhaps something will condence in a little while. To anyone who reads this thing, keep checking around here every once in a while because some good stuff may surface without any warning. Like the bloated corpse of a long dead goose released from the cement shoes given it by the violent duck mafia...How's that for an alternate vision of the mighty Phoenix arising from the ashes...