
Sometimes I have to stop and think where ideas for posts come from. Yes, and that is usually the point at which my head is empty and I am out of ideas. I spent years teaching the writing process and I advocated many different pre-writing idea-generating strategies. I should be able to come up with something to write about without resorting to bashing my right temple with a hand-held blunt object. After all, those ideas come out kinda wobbly and full of strangely-colored stars. So, let me find a broom in the upstairs broom closet in the empty hallways of my mind and sweep together all the possible ideas I have in one pile to look at, grimace, and compare.

There is a letter with a Martian stamp on it. Inside it proposes I hold an aliens-only poetry writing contest and put the worst possible results into a post. That could be worth a few chuckles, and possible a gazorpingwallow or two. At least, that’s what the letter suggests. It is from some Ixcanixian from the spinward edge of the Sagittarius Spiral Arm of the Milky Way. 
I have several ongoing cartoon projects. I could be adding another page to the Hidden Kingdom graphic novel I have been working on for thirty years. I could also do more action-figure comics to rationalize all the time I spend playing with dolls. And I like to do novel illustrations to go along with the many bizarre and mentally warped novels I have created.

Of course we have recently received the kind of political Christmas gift that most of us would like to track Santa down to his lair for and return back inside the reindeer butt that it came out of. Insulting the new orangutan king is an easy source of insult-based humor that I don’t have to work too hard at or feel too guilty about. But too much of that is like getting drunk on cough syrup. You intended to cure the problem, but you have only managed to add new problems and a hangover headache to top it all off.
I still have to fix the cracked and leaky swimming pool before next spring, so that should yield some cementing-your-feet-into-the-pool-wall stories later on. And there are the numerous frustrations of living life with six incurable diseases to write about. I can probably make the flaking off of all the skin on the back of my neck from psoriasis sound pretty funny if I try hard enough. The family dog is still producing dog poop at Guiness-Book-of-World-Records rates… and, oh, yeah, I am still a long way from being done telling you about the bad jokes from more than a quarter of a century of classroom cut-ups.
You know, I think the way to deal with the problem is to simply make a list of ideas. I can throw darts at the list if I still can’s decide.







How To Write A Mickian Essay
I know the last thing you would ever consider doing is to take up writing essays like these. What kind of a moronic bingo-boingo clown wants to take everything he or she knows, put it in a high-speed blender and turn it all into idea milkshakes?
But I was a writing teacher for many years. And now, being retired and having no students to yell at when my blood pressure gets high, the urge to teach it again is overwhelming.
So, here goes…
Once you have picked the silly, pointless, or semi-obnoxious idea you want to shape the essay around, you have to write a lead. A lead is the attention-grabbing device or booby-trap for readers that will draw them into your essay. In a Mickian essay, whose purpose is to entertain, or possibly bore you in a mildly amusing manner, or cause you enough brain damage to make you want to send me money (this last possibility never seems to work, but I thought I’d throw it in there just in case), the lead is usually a “surpriser”, something so amazingly dumb or off-the-wall crazy that you just have to read, at least a little bit, to find out if this writer is really that insane or what. The rest of the intro paragraph that is not part of the lead may be used to draw things together to suggest the essay is not simply a chaotic mass of silly words in random order. It can point the reader down the jungle path that he or she can take to come out of the other end of the essay alive.
Once started on this insane quest to build an essay that will strangle the senses and mix up the mind of the reader, you have to carry out the plan in three or four body paragraphs. This is where you have to use those bricks of brainiac bull-puckie that you have saved up to be the concrete details in the framework of the main rooms of the little idea-house you are constructing. If you were to number or label these main rooms, this one you are reading now would, for example, be Room #2, or B, or “the second body paragraph”. And as you read this paragraph, you should be thinking in the voice of your favorite English teacher of all time. The three main rooms in this example idea house are beginning, middle, and end. You could also call them introduction, body, and conclusion. These are the rooms of your idea house that the reader will live in during his or her brief stay (assuming they don’t run out of the house screaming after seeing the clutter in the entryway).
The last thing you have to do is the concluding paragraph. (Of course, you have to realize that we are not actually there yet in this essay. This is Room C in the smelly chickenhouse of this essay, the third body paragraph.) The escape hatch on the essay that may potentially explode into fireworks of thoughts, daydreams, or plans for something better to do with your life than a read an essay written by an insane former middle school English teacher at any moment, is a necessary part of the whole process. This is where you have to remind them of what the essay is basically about, and leave them with the thought that you want to haunt them in their nightmares later. The last thing that you say in the essay is the thing they are the most likely to remember. So you need to save the best for last.
So, here, finally, is the exit door to this masterfully mixed-up Mickian Essay. It is a simple, and straightforward structure. The introduction containing the lead is followed by three or four body paragraphs that develop the idea and end in a conclusion that summarizes or simply restates the overall main idea. And now you know why all of my former students either know how to construct an essay, or have several years left in therapy sessions with a psychiatrist.
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