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Nothing

 I was looking for a quote the other day by the lamentably obscure French Canadian writer on the impossibility of thinking about thinking about nothing without thinking something. And I could not find it, which might tell you something.

Meanwhile, back in somewhere not unlike Bazzookaville, Tennessee, there were no jam sessions last week, possibly due to too many commas, but you cannot be sure.. it remained eerily quiet

Which was much like the dilemma from which the Melbourne Jazz Jammers find themselves defenestrated. Peregrinations are continuing, and the suddenly idle folk at Bendigo Towers, World Headquarters of this august organ, wish to express their thanks to the good jammerfolk who wrote in with suggestions for the next place we send to the wall, as is the tradition of the jammers.

Looking on the bright side, we can report no bum notes, no debacles, no malicious gossip (well, alright, just a bit), no trainwrecks, free beer at bar prices,  and the sound system worked perfectly all day. This No Jam Session malarkey has its good points...

Hopefully, we will come up with a new venue soon, if only to avoid the task of thinking about something when there is nothing to think about. Poupert was on to something...


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