Podfade is what happens when a person starts a podcast, then runs out of things to say…abandoning the podcast. iTunes is filled with podcasts that haven’t had a new episode since 2004. Blogfade is the same thing, except with a blog.

I’m speeding ahead on the road in the picture. With determined purpose I’m driving just as fast as I can to get to the edge…bracing for the leap. My windows are down. Ashley Cleveland is singing, “Gimme Shelter.” I’m alone.

Wit and wisdom are everywhere. Well, not really, but everybody thinks they’re unique with meaningful things to say. It’s actually quite rare to find a person who has much worth reading. We can’t all be Malcolm Gladwell. Or Seth Godin (I’m really sick of Godin anyway).

Rarer still are those who have anything of real value to say. Sure, we all want to feel we’re special and important. The fact is, we’re not. Most of us are lemmings. Although, I shall continue to hang on every word uttered by Sir Ken Robinson. He’s the real deal.

Last week I began to unsubscribe to all the email newsletters and updates I get. I’ve kicked Google Reader to the curb, too. Twitter? Well, I’ve managed to create at least one Tweet a week (maybe) for the past few months. Too many voices. Too much stupidity. Too many who think they have profound things to say. I’ve read too much in my life. I know moronic ramblings when I see them. Tens of thousands of books do that to a mind I suppose. And I could probably count on two hands the ones that were worth the time spent. I’ve seen enough. Contributed enough of my own moronic ramblings to the heap, too.

I’ve blogged since 2002 with no aim, no purpose and no intention. Rambling with no purpose and no expectation. About 6 months ago I began losing any desire to continue. I resisted slightly – for awhile. But I just don’t honestly care any more. Which is rather odd since I’ve been verbally proficient my entire life. Writing, speaking and communicating all come too easily for me – and I didn’t think there was a mileage limit on it. I thought it was like the rental car with unlimited miles. I was wrong. There was a mileage limit. I exceeded it.

I’m considering a vow of silence, something I would have never thought possible. But more and more I find that I just have nothing left to say. I find conversation difficult, even cumbersome. My desire to contribute, or be contributed to is exhausted. I’ve reached the point of blob-dom where simply being is good enough. If you think cynicism has overtaken me you’re really slow to catch on. I embrace cynicism. I always have.

More and more I find others have little to offer that makes any real difference. And I realize I’m right there in the mix, too. I’m not special, but I’ve never been too bothered by that fact. I’m more bothered by the fact that too many others think they are – and they’re wrong.

I simply have nothing left I want to say. And there’s nothing I want to hear any more either. I’ve reached critical mass of input and output. I’m moving on now to simply exist in the land of action where my talking will only happen with deeds. I’m curious if life can more rewarding when you talk less (or not at all), write less (or not at all), read less (or not at all) and simply do stuff.

In the end one word sums it all up. Drivel. James Lick owns Drivel.com. I call him Jim. He lives in Taipai. Figures. I’m happy for Mr. Lick.

It’s over and I’m out.

Good-bye.

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