Cursing the Cursor

While every advancement in writing technology offers its own v-shaped offensive gesture to writers who experience problems with a blank page, I sometimes think the blinking cursor is the vilest.
The blank page intimidates most writers. Breaking the seal, or popping the cherry as it were, with a hand motion can incite all manner of trepidation. Pros and amateurs alike have tricks and skills to help them overcome their dread and plunge forward with their hand and mind, creating a stained, non-virginal screen or sheet of paper. All these little tools and incentives are marvelous, but do not ever entirely change that fear of starting anew into energy for creation. I refuse to blame writer’s insecurity or mental lapses for this and instead blame something even more daunting than a completely blank page/screen: that damnable blinking cursor.
What did writers ever do to technology geeks that they decided to punish us with this demon? One little move in the name of advancement and suddenly the terror of a blank page becomes amplified by that taunting, teasing little bastard of a cursor who stares at us – daring us to conjure up ideas while it sits there menacingly waiting for us to fail.
Well this time, eternally blinking demon, I have triumphed over you by using your own flinching power against you. This is one game of chicken you lose.