I guess that’s a real word. I imagine it shares roots with the French word, “prolificeur:” One who writes much and writes frequently. There is, I believe, a German expression, “prolificheit,” used to characterize frequent publication.
I gather that one of my favorite prolificheitmeisters, x4mr over at Sustainability, has been taken to task for not writing as much, or as frequently, as his devoted readers could wish.
His defense of publishing episodes (following Gauss) that are “few but ripe” is well taken; as is his reminder that most of us in the blogosphere are amateurs---folks who do this for the love of it. For a variety of reasons we have volunteered for the duty, which has to be squeezed into days filled with the ordinary demands of are our rich, full, lives.
I hope Matt will continue his detailed and thoughtful writing. But once a week is plenty.
Having Nothing to Say
Or, rather, having nothing to say that isn’t already being said, it has seemed to me that a decent respect for the patience of my readers required a measured and respectful silence.
I confess to a writer’s pride. I fancy myself a master of a style once described as “elegant Victorian snottiness,” but when everyone is writing that the emperor is jay-bird naked what more is there to be said?
The neo-con Republicans wanted to shrink government until it could be dragged into the bathroom and drowned in the tub. Americans so despised the Bush regime that they shrank the Republican Party instead. We have dragged it into the bathroom, now let’s fill the tub.