Sisyphus Shrugged Julia in a recent post, “The Sad Thing Is,” wrote, somewhat offhandedly yet simultaneously tapping one of the great mysteries of the blogosphere: “My own painstakingly researched report ‘S.Z.: When does she sleep?’ will be coming as soon as I get around to sending her an e-mail and asking.”

That’s a post I look forward to with eagerness and wonder, as I often have asked myself the same question.

Best I could tell, the enigmatic and intensely private S.Z., nemesis of conservative poseurs of the most contemptible sort and author of the groudbreaking and supremely original weblog, World O’ Crap, began her blogging career on the East Coast, and that at a time when I arose, also on the East Coast, at 5:30 a.m. each weekday to write a nationally syndicated radio program (read by someone else, natch).

Back then I decided, for what that was worth, that S.Z. had to be getting up some time around 3:00 a.m. Sleep, I thought, must play a negligible role in this remarkable woman’s life. Since then, however, S.Z. has gone all “Westward Ho!” on us, and I can’t begin to figure out when she sleeps, let alone if she does so. No matter, really. I’m just along for the great ride.

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