If Seinfeld can talk about nothing, so can I

I’m tired tonight and the hour is late and I really have nothing to say, but I feel I must post something because I haven’t blogged for three days. And three days, as you know, is almost an eternity in blogdom. So consider this a spaceholder post [Update in the morning: I think I meant placeholder, but besides my being tired and the hour late, I was in cyberspace and so I think I coined a new word. I didn't mean to imply that this post has anything to do with orthodontia], and I will try to get something more interesting out to you soon.

If you find this an unsatisfactory solution, you are hereby authorized to refer to me as Dr. Fell, about whom the following four-line poem was written around 1680 by one Tom Brown, a student who was expelled from Christ Church, Oxford, by the school’s dean, the selfsame Dr. John Fell:

“I do not like thee, Dr. Fell.
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this I know, and know full well:
I do not like thee, Dr. Fell.”

I have known this little poem for years and years and years. It’s really hard to work into a conversation, and when you do you get strange looks from others.