Today, prompted by feeling like nothing had any meaning worth turning into words here, I began to write a post about empty words, prompted further by the popping of the phrase ‘words, words, empty words’ into my head.

Searching for that phrase using a Search Engine of Repute, I discovered the existence of an interesting-sounding play called <a href=’http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Words,_Words,_Words‘><em>Words, Words, Words</em></a>, by David Ives. I also found quoted numerous writers, politicians and others who had used some variant on ‘words, words, empty words’. Yet I could not find any origin for this ‘words, words, empty words’ phrase rattling round the synapses.

Then I noticed the word empty, and it loomed larger, and larger, intruding on the empty spaces between it and the other words, empty words, EMPTY WORDS, EMPTY, EMPTY, until it looked ridiculous and was drained of all meaning. Something having the quality of EMP, words, in fact, having this empness, whatever it is.

I should have just left this post blank.   

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