Once again, your humble Devil apologises for the lack of posting.
The truth is, I am feeling totally unenergised; I don't have as much time that I would like to be able to sit down and absorb the news and views of the day. Plus, my real-life work is leaving me totally exhausted at the end of every day.
As a result, your humble Devil's posts are feeling a little formulaic—to myself as much as to anyone else. The combination of these factors has meant that I am suffering from the longest spell of blogging fatigue that I have encountered in four and a half years of swearing at politicians, journos, other bloggers and assorted ne'er-do-wells.
Over the last few days, I have considered seriously—for the first time—whether it this might be the moment to retire The Kitchen.
Fear not, gentle reader: I don't think that it will happen—I am far too attached to this name, this place, and you people. Besides, I still need to vent my spleen somewhere...!
I do, however, need to take a little time to catch up—maybe even take a couple of days off work—and to reacquaint myself with the news stories, and to find some energy to write about them in a half-way satisfying manner. Even if I only take the time to fisk thoroughly—and gratuitously insult—the egregious Toynbee*.
I am going to try to do all that needs to be done at some point this weekend, but I cannot guarantee anything. Until then, I severely doubt that there will be any posts—at least by me—at The Kitchen**.
* On which subject, Juliette is most lyrical.
** Having said that, last time I announced a hiatus, I found something the very next day that utterly enraged me. It must have been one of the shortest hiatuses ever.