You've probably heard this phrase long before you stumbled upon my column of the same name. It comes from Kurt Vonnegut's novel "Slaughterhouse-Five," although it's probable someone somewhere else used it long before he made it famous with his bestselling novel. And while I generally don't like using phrases or ideas that I didn't personally think up, I made an exception here because it so aptly simplifies my worldview in a PG-way that "shush, it happens" could never hope to achieve.

I should note however, that while I adopted the phrase during my college years to shrug off worries like late papers, poor euchre partners and bad hangovers, Vonnegut used it throughout his novel to describe - and dismiss - horrifying acts like the fire-bombing of Dresden during World War II, which killed between 25,000 to 60,000 Germans. So it goes indeed.

But while some might take it as that - a flippant, callous dismissal of an intensely serious situation - I prefer to see it as expression of an enlightened viewpoint: things - nasty things - happen in this world that we can do nothing about and instead of dwelling on them, you just gotta let go. The alternative? Miserably reflect on events out of your control until they consume you.

That's not to say we should turn our backs on bad things just because they're unpleasant. Not only is that cowardly, but it would result in a swift end to this experiment in civilization we humans have been conducting for the last few thousand years. And of course, blindly ignoring or glossing over the past, unpleasant as it may be, dooms us to ignorantly repeat it.

(Although based on our current theocracy, I have my doubts that a careful study of history prevents the abuses it theoretically seeks to thwart.).

And I'm definitely not trying to make the indefensible case that what happens in life is just "fate" or God's will and we can't stop things because they are meant to happen. Crashing planes into skyscrapers was a conscious act that could have been avoided. So was unjustifiably invading a country that had nothing to do with said terrorist acts.

Anyway, the reason you're reading this "thoughtful" analysis now instead of when I first started writing is two-fold: 1) because I'm fresh out of serious events I'm capable of ranting about and 2) because I hadn't felt comfortable enough explaining the name back then. Still don't, but when you're out of material, even the thinnest straws are worth grasping.

It's certainly not that there aren't items of note I could expound on. There have been many of late and, quite frankly, if you aren't outraged or amused on a daily basis in today's world, you're probably already experiencing the televised version of "So It Goes" called "Who cares, my show's on."

No, to be blunt, I'm just in a bit of a writing slump lately, forcing myself to bang out columns when I'm out of funny stories and the righteous indignation just isn't there. More experienced writers can fake it, but I'm just kind of wallowing in a pit of writing despair, unable to completely form arguments, thoughts or sentences that make you go "oooo."

Which, while a shame, won't last and is out of my hands. You know what they say, right?

Shhh, it happens.