March 12, 2001
Oh, how I wish I had the enthusiasm to write to you today. But it's just not there. Perhaps it is my own fault. The last several weeks have been hectic ones, as the jackals of the press have drawn attention to my plight and work, placing unwarranted pressure on an already troubled mind and spirit to keep an ever-increasing audience amused. I am to be your dancing monkey, it seems, your tail-chasing Labrador retriever. I cannot fight it anymore, this is my plight, whether I like it or not. It is a heavy burden, but I know better than to come to you, my audience, looking for sympathy. Sympathy is for the sick and diseased of body, not for the weak of mind and spirit, I am well aware of this. But today, I am simply not up to the task. I apologize.

I would elaborate further, but what is the use. The majority of you most likely don't even read my words at all, preferring the cheap laughs my news stories of dubious origin offer like so much hot-buttered popcorn. I am the nothing more than the loon in the cage above, my rantings a mild distraction, nothing more. So very well. This week, I have shuffled the cards a bit, offering a "featured story" rather than the usual "featured review." Not that there isn't work out there worthy of my sharp skewer, of course, because there most assuredly is. To lift the rock and find it is simply more work than I'm willing to put forth at this time, however. Perhaps I will review one of this abominations next issue. Perhaps not. We will wait and see. Regardless, I must regretfully inform you for the time being, I will be unable to produce a new issue of this publication every Monday, regardless of my original intentions to the contrary. It is papaya season, and as the rent must be paid, the harvest will be henceforth taking the majority of my time for the next several months. I will return on an every-other week basis, as long as I am able. But for now, I bid you adieu. My mind is once again betraying me, and I can think of nothing more to say.

– The Editor
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