I stare at the page in front of me, (and this isn't the first time I've done this) and I can't think of anything I want to say. Nothing. Me, David Nida, verbose man of many words and few verbal lapses, cannot think of a single interesting or funny or inspiring or challenging thing to say to the rest of the world. (Who'm I kidding, maybe ten people. 12 tops!) What does that say? I don't know. If I did, I could tell you about it, but I don't know. I don't even have a speculative guess. I cannot proffer a gentle, prodding thesis into that calm, waiting void. Though I do feel like being unnecessarily and not altogether sensibly wordy. I guess if I knew what that says about me, I would be closer to knowing what my lack of, uhm, i dunno, communicative motivation (?) says about me. So this is what I've come up with to let the waiting throngs hear from me. I am breaking my silence to let you know that: Last night I completed 3, successively more difficult, Sudokus in less than 30 minutes. Yeah, Baby!!1