So here we are on Tuesday, the second day of Pride. I didn’t see many of the haters yesterday anywhere on-line, but I suspect that was algorithms working in my favor for a change, and who am I to question a mostly positive experience on social media for the first day of Pride Month? I even got all caught up on the complete meltdown over the so-called “state fair” and enjoyed a few cruel laughs at the oh-so-deserved (but not nearly enough) humiliation.
Not even close to enough.
There may not be enoughpossible.
It was a nice day easing back into the work week after a recuperative weekend. Paul’s physical therapy went well and they are very pleased with his progress, which I knew they would be. I was able to leave work early, and ran some errands (mail, groceries) on the way home. It was muggy as hell yesterday morning when I left the house (I finally left my work hoodie at the office yesterday) but we had some rain during the day so it was cooler and nicer out as I went about my business leaving the office. I am now scheduled to tape Susan Larson’s “My Reading Life” show for local NPR; I have my labs scheduled for Friday; and I think I got entirely caught up on my emails yesterday. I was a bit sluggish yesterday, too, but I think that was to be expected. All in all, it was a nice day, and Paul and I settled in once the groceries were put away for an evening of television–the news, the finale of Euphoria (I didn’t much care for this season, honestly, as I did previous ones, although Zendaya was fantastic as always) and started The Four Seasons’ second season, which was…off to a slow but not terrible start.
I also cleaned off my desk, which is a pretty big deal around here lately. It still needs some work, of course–the workspace is not really functional for much other than typing at this point–and I have some newsletters to work on, too. I sent one out yesterday, which you can click here to read. It’s my first pride post of the month, and there will be some more, undoubtedly. Half Man is still resonating in my mind, but fortunately it addresses masculinity and sexuality so I can write about that this month. I also want to write my essay about A Violent Masterpiece, but I may just schedule that to drop on July 1. (I am so delighted I learned how to schedule newsletters, Constant Reader, you have no idea!) Now that the stress and release from Paul’s surgery has passed, I need to recenter and refocus. Maybe today between clients I can go through the to-do notebook and figure things out.
Our weather forecast–rarely, if ever, correct–shows thunderstorms for later this afternoon, probably during the time I’ll be driving home from work. There are worse things, but that will make me just want to curl up in my chair with Sparky. I also need to get back to reading. Friday I have to get some more lab work done and I have to go into the office for an in-person meeting. Blech. But that’s okay; it’ll get me up and out and about, and once I do the labs, I can come home to the peace and quiet of the Lost Apartment and chill….which, let’s face it, is my favorite thing to do.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.
I do think bibs can be sexy, and they’re so comfortable! Probably my years in Kansas and summers in Alabama.
Monday and back to the office with me this morning. I feel rested this morning, which is a good thing, but i am not going to predict how the day is going to go–yesterday was another day of rest and recovery for me, as it turned out. Paul is doing great–he doesn’t need the walker at all–and the pain is manageable for him, which is also a relief. He has physical therapy today for the first time; it’s also the first time he’ll be home all alone all day, too. But…he’s doing great and he’s getting rest, too. I had hoped this would be how it goes–he recovered very quickly with his hip replacements–but you never know; you always wonder if this is the time that will be different, and it’s delightful to know he’ll not be in any pain soon enough.
I did manage to get some things done yesterday. I managed to get things delivered, and cleaned out the sink and ran the dishwasher. I definitely have some catching up to do this morning–checkbook, emails, etc.–but it’s also lovely to avoid the Internet for the weekend, too. We finished Half Man yesterday, and I am still processing that this morning. We also watched last week’s Euphoria, and I honestly don’t remember what we watched after that, so it clearly didn’t register very much in my tired brain. It could be that my brain hasn’t awakened yet entirely? But, long story short, we spent most of yesterday hanging out together in the living room for the third straight day, which was lovely. We used to do that every weekend, until Paul gets so busy with work that he has to work on the weekends. It’s really nice, actually. Sparky was a love bug all weekend, too. Oh, yes, we were watching the second season of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, which is always visually stunning even if the plot is kind of insane. It’s funny, when I was a kid monster movies like Godzilla and King Kong always gave me nightmares (likewise, I couldn’t watch Nate’s death on Euphoria–buried alive in a coffin, only for a rattlesnake to join him? All three of my biggest phobias, combined in one scene? I left the room.), but this show and the recent Godzilla movies don’t bother me in the least.
And yes, Half Man was also a bit triggering.
Half Man was an interesting show to kick off Pride Month, at any rate. It was probably the best depiction of a trauma bond that I’ve ever seen. Richard Gadd is an exceptional talent, and I was right–he gained a hundred pounds of muscle for this show. He and Jamie Bell were an excellent acting team–I’ve loved Bell since Billy Elliott–and it will take me a moment to get it processed enough through my brain so I can write about it. And yes, it is Pride Month; cue all the tiresome bigots whining about how “the military and veterans don’t get a month” (which shows how little they actually do care about the military and the veterans) and on and on: “we should have Straight Pride!” (I always want to reply, “yes, by all means, celebrate your mediocrity and the damage you inflict.”) I want to switch my newsletter to focus primarily on queer stuff–books and so forth, tales from my gay life–for the month, but I also want to get my thoughts on A Violent Masterpiece sent out as well; so who knows?
I am also not sure how busy we are in the clinic this week, nor do I know if I am working by myself. One can never be sure, and since I didn’t bring my laptop home (because I was off on Friday), I won’t be able to find out until I get to the office. It’s kind of weird going in with no idea what I am looking at till I get there–I usually do have the laptop at home on the weekends, but since I took Friday off, why lug the damned thing around? That, in the olden days, would have made me anxious, so we’re really getting somewhere, aren’t we? Anyway, I am hoping to be able to leave the office tomorrow and head over to UNO to tape Susan Larson’s NPR radio show, “My Reading Life,” which is always lovely.
And on that note, I am bringing this to a close and heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.
Somehow, it’s Wednesday again already; a holiday will do that to a week. Yesterday was kind of a nice reintroduction to my work week. It was an easy day at the office, and despite feeling groggy in the morning, I woke up and got things done at the office around my clients. On the way home, I picked up the mail, mailed some books, dropped off another and then made groceries. I wrote for a bit on that story I was rewriting in my journal and I am quite pleased with what I have done thus far. It’s fun again to write, to wrestle with words and images and characters and sentences. It’s nice to remember that I write because I enjoy it; it’s deadlines that turn it into an odious, stressful chore.
Although I do wonder if I need to turn things into odious, stressful chores in order to get them done. Hmmm.
I also managed to send out a new newsletter yesterday, and if you want to read the new newsletter click here. I also wasn’t terribly tired when I got home from work yesterday (hence the productivity); I feel pretty good this morning as well–not even groggy Greggy today. I have a semi-busy day at the office today, but I get to go straight home from work tonight and that will be nice. I need to do a load of laundry and a load of dishes tonight, too. We still don’t know what time Paul’s surgery will be on Friday–they’ll tell him on Thursday–and I don’t know how that day is going to go once I get him home. I worry about his pain management–thank God I have that ice machine!1 It’s kind of ironic that I am again hitting the ground running with writing again, only to have another situation that will need a work-around. Heavy heaving sigh. Here’s hoping the writing continues, regardless of what is going on in my life. But it is nice that I am feeling better and productive again. Even the Achilles tendons have finally stopped again and I can walk normally again, which is also very lovely.
We watched an episode of House of Ashur and Widow’s Bay, both of which are growing on me (I prefer Widow’s Bay; it’s supernatural horror, which is a favorite of mine). I think there’s another episode of Widow’s Bay for tonight, and we may have to begin watching something else tomorrow night, or finish House of Ashur, which is a pale imitation of its predecessors–but there’s so much male skin and full frontal and queer activity and violence the plot is kind of hard to follow. The dialogue seems very stilted, too; I don’t remember it being quite so jarring in the earlier seasons. Maybe at some point I will rewatch the earlier seasons; I do remember Lucy Lawless stealing the show out from under all the sexy barely dressed musclemen. I do love Lucy Lawless.
I’ve also decided to stop blogging about politics. My commentary is not necessary for the discourse; anything I could say has been said better by minds more knowledgeable than mine, and besides, thinking about it is upsetting. I am tired of every day being ruined by the sleaze in Washington and Baton Rouge, and so I am detaching myself to watch from an unemotional distance. Besides, I think I have always been very clear on where I stand politically. I’ve always considered myself an independent progressive, with no ties to any political party unless they are pro-queer equality. Period. And I will never make nice or forgive or welcome blatant homophobes unless they thoroughly recant and work their asses off for queer equality for a minimum of two years. Sane with racists and misogynists, so, no, I won’t be embracing MAGAfugees until I see actual atonement and change.
I feel pretty safe in saying that means I’ll never forgive any of them. Ever.
So don’t ask, unless you want to pull back a nub.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope your day is easy or whatever you want it to be, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning again.
Those legs!!!!Although I can’t help but wonder why he was playing basketball barefoot in what looks like abandoned public housing.
As a public service, I’ve decided to share the company’s website. They aren’t inexpensive (insurance paid for mine, they won’t for Paul), but they are so worth it: click here.↩︎
Well, Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around again somehow, and I feel pretty good this morning. I didn’t want to get out of bed–it was so warm and comfy and cozy under the pile o’blankets–but I did and took care of the morning business and had some coffee. Sparky is rambunctious this morning–I had to walk around with him on my shoulders for a bit to get him to calm down a bit. I did do some chores when I got home yesterday, and I need to have some things delivered this evening…and should probably run an errand, too. I also did a little bit of writing last night, which felt great–even as the words came out of me like they were attached to barbed wire. I also realized it’s not going to be that easy to get writing done over the next few months because Paul is having two knee replacements this summer, so I am going to be having to take care of him, too, in the dead miserable heat of summer. Heavy heaving sigh. But…that’s okay. It’s always something, isn’t it?
I’ll survive, won’t I?
I finished watching The Traitors Canada’s third season last night, and it’s one of the best seasons, if not the very best. Now, I am out of Traitors to watch, sigh, until new seasons drop. I don’t know that I’ll watch them as they air or if I’ll wait till they’re all available to binge. We also watched the latest Euphoria, too, before calling it a night and diving headfirst into the bed. I have to have labs drawn Friday morning for my GI specialist (whom I am seeing next month) and I have an on-line team meeting, but I’ll be spending most of the day going over forms and correcting them. And then it’s a holiday weekend!!! Monday is Memorial Day! I am hoping to be either be productive this weekend or to get a lot of rest, one or the other, and I want to take some walks in the mornings before it gets too miserable out there. It’s already eighty-one out there this morning, and it’s still May, for Christ’s sake.
I get hate mail pretty regularly; you can’t be a gay man in 2026 who exists on-line and not get hate mail–whether it’s email or DM’s or tags (this is why I never look at my DM’s and it’s a terrible way to try to reach me because I do not like to read that drek–although some of it can be amusing in its illiteracy, ignorance, and illogic–and it’s not something you ever get used to. It was really bad when I was EVP at MWA (which clearly has a lot of homophobes in its membership), and I would turn off DM’s if I could. Most of the hate email goes to spam now and I don’t see it, but one slipped through the other day, and it was highly amusing. Someone, who really needs to wash his or her ass and legs, decided something–anything–I don’t know what–deserved a written email response, and yes, it made me laugh really hard. You’re coming at me because I am in favor of vaccines? Being called a “pro-vaxxer” isn’t the insult you think it is, inbred imbecile, and here’s hoping you never have to watch a child you love suffer and die because you’re a fucking idiot who doesn’t actually love them, really. You don’t put someone you love at risk of death because you’re incredibly stupid, because clearly, you don’t even know what love is; a cat is a better parent. Chew on that, asswipe, and be glad I didn’t just post a screencap of your email–and I wouldn’t black out your email address, either.
Because these people are stupid enough to use personal or work emails.
Yesterday, despite feeling a bit drained still mentally–physically I was fine–was a good day. It’s always nice to get unexpected money, isn’t it?
Remember last year’s bubble protest in the French Quarter? Sum up: a rich man moved into the Quarter across from a bar with a bubble machine which has been there for decades, if not generations, and decided the bubbles had to go. End result? A mob of people showed up with bubble guns and so forth and buried the Quarter in bubbles…and did it again on the one year anniversary! I love how petty this city is! I fit right in here, seriously.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I’ll be back for my last day in the office for the week blog tomorrow!
Work at home Friday, and we made it through another work week in one piece (at least so far). The world is still here (for now), too, so if you’ve made it without losing your mind, killing someone, or just completely breaking down sobbing in a corner, congratulations! I did get tired yesterday afternoon, which wasn’t a surprise, but I was fine all morning and managed to get a lot done at the office, which was awesome. I was a bit tired to write words last night, so I decided to just chill, relax, do some chores when I felt like it, and think instead about what I am going to write today after my work-at-home duties. Naturally, that meant me doing little-to-nothing once I got home. Sparky was feeling lonely and needing some comfort love, which meant me providing my lap for his bed for almost the entire evening. I didn’t mind, of course; sleeping purr-kitty is very relaxing and calming. I caught up on the horrific news–these are the times that would have killed Molly Ivins, because trying to keep up on everything and writing humorously about it would have worn her down for sure.
So, apparently CNN conservative sleazebag Scott Jennings was outed as a closet case by Chef Joe Gera1. (See Matthew Rettenmund’s blog, along with some other queer news as well as some shots of actor Tom Blyth in the altogether; he’s a good resource and you should think about subscribing!) Scott Jennings is one of those white male mediocrities who has wound up as a fascism-enabler–this rat will definitely go down with the ship–and sits there with that asshole smirk while he smugly condescends to everyone else on the show. CNN was also responsible for giving us Tucker Carlson, thanks so much for that, by the way. It also raised the specter of outing again. I always go by the original ACT UP explanation for outing–if you are in a position to do harm to queer people, you do, and you’re closeted, well, fuck you and you definitely should be outed. (See: Aaron Schock) Are the allegations about Jennings accurate? Maybe, maybe not. But as far as I am concerned, we can put his unwashed fascist ass on a ice floe and set it adrift north of Canada.
Sparky only let me have about a half an hour of extra sleep this morning, so I am up way eariler than I’d intended; I never voluntarily get up at six thirty in the morning. I do feel rested and good. We watched another episode of Unchosen last night, which took another twist I didn’t see coming in last night’s episode. I kind of had wondered if this kind of twist was coming–mainly, because the show is doing such a great job with the characters that it seemed natural, but it still was a big surprise when they landed the twist. We are obsessed with this show, and of course, it has me thinking about cults again as well as Kansas, which is where I always think of when my mind turns to cults. I was thinking last night about several books I want to write that are set in Kansas–there are three I really hope I get to do while I am still writing. I also thought some more about the next Scotty, and I’m thinking I may move it up from Carnival to the Halloween before, as the story develops in my brain. I do love this creative phase I’m enjoying right now, and it’s not as frenetic and wild as they used to be; probably because the anxiety is under control so I am not getting dozens of new ideas weekly, which is also kind of a relief. I think having my mind ping around so rapid-fire the way it used to was also kind of exhausting and stressful. I like this whole new calm, centered thing medication is doing to my brain these days. And now it’s the weekend, with me feeling calm and rested and excellent. Huzzah!
I do have some work duties to do this morning that I will be diving into as soon as I finish writing this, and some other personal chores that have to be done this morning, too, which shouldn’t be an issue. I do think I am going to mostly stay home today. I have a couple of errands I can run later on (or tomorrow), and of course I’d like to get some cleaning done around here. I also need to wash and clean out the car since I am driving north a week from today (Paul leaves Tuesday to head north, too).
So I want to do some reading and writing this weekend, and get some newsletters finished as well. I feel good about everything in my life at the moment, and that’s always lovely. I am still doing a lot of processing and thinking about things that occurred in my life and making sense of them–and their lasting impact–on who I am. Maybe it was the anxiety, but I was always afraid somewhat to look back and relive/think about things again; mainly because I was certain I’d be embarrassed or ashamed. ANd maybe that’s true. Maybe I didn’t do this before because there was so much anxiety, and so much determination to always see the bad or negative about myself and now I can actually handle it? Regardless, I’m actually kind of enjoying this unpacking process while being kinder to, and forgiving, myself.
That’s healthy, right?
And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in tomorrow with a progress report. Ta till then!
Anubis, Egyptian god of the afterlife and Lord of the Sacred Land
We’ll see if there’s any truth or veracity to the claim, but it did make me laugh. He is so self-loathing, which is clearly apparent. I guess not thinking it was about sucking dick was probably a self-defense mechanism my brain used to protect from the horror of thinking him queer. ↩︎
And here we are on a Saturday morning and I am up early again. I went to bed early last night, too, which was nice–I was a bit tired after this week’s Hacks and The Boys. I feel very good this morning, too. I have some ZOOM things to do for the Bold Strokes Book-a-thon; a reading at three and moderating a panel tonight at seven, and another panel tomorrow at six pm my time. The national gymnastics finals are today at three, so I’ll be watching on my iPad during the reading–with no offense intended at all for the other readers; I’ve been waiting to watch this since last year, and I’ll be listening to the readers, not the meet.
Yesterday was lovely. I got my work-at-home chores done, cleaned some, did laundry all day, and had a nice relaxing day at home, which was super-nice. I spent the early evening ater Paul got home catching up on the news, and ordered a pizza from Reginelli’s–which is another example of how small a town New Orleans can be. When I served on jury duty for that civil case all those years ago, the plaintiff was a Reginelli, and that case inspired Murder in the Irish Channel, a Chanse novel I am particularly proud of, and what our friend Susan would order for our Game of Thrones nights at her home. I also managed to get a late newsletter out, discussing Cheryl A. Head’s marvelous short story “Finding Jimmy Baldwin,” which you can read right here. I am going to try to get another one out tomorrow, to be back on the twice weekly schedule, but we shall see how that goes. I have some errands to run today, too, before settling in for the reading and the panel and the gymnastics. I should also probably pick up and do some more cleaning, too. I am going to try to get some reading done this morning, too…Listen for the Whisperer‘s second chapter, and back to the novel I’ve been trying to get into for several weeks now, with no disrespect intended for the author or the book itself; it’s me, not the book. I think reading the short stories might have helped kick the reading gene back into gear; although I suppose we shall see this morning, won’t we?
And of course, later this month I am going to both Alabama and Florida, which means an audiobook to listen to and write about, so huzzah for that. The audiobooks actually make me look forward to going on long drives again, and of course, I am now anxiety-free so I don’t get tense and tired while driving , which always resulted in me being exhausted; I wasn’t tired at all the last time I drove to Kentucky, which is my benchmark for long drives. Obviously, given a choice I wouldn’t take all these drives, but I make the best of them, and listening to books definitely has made them much more bearable. I’m not sure exactly what I am going to listen to on this drive; I do have some interesting books downloaded already on my phone.
Nothing about that rape academy website (or whatever it was; I was far too disgusted by what it was for and about so didn’t dig into the news reports deeply) surprised me, other than I thought the number of visits (or hits, or whatever the term is for that) was shockingly low at sixty-two million, frankly; I would have assumed it was one out of every two or three men–but then again, not everyone had heard of that website, so it would have been significantly higher otherwise. As everyone says, maybe not all men but always a man, which is accurate. The men are clearly not okay, and haven’t been in a while, but as long as they continue subscribing to the notion that women are merely sperm depositories whose sole function is running the house and squirting out fetuses, they will continue to be. I’ve always been grateful not to be a straight man, because that privilege comes at too great a cost for me. The whole manosphere thing has always been hilarious to me; who thinks Joe Rogan is a fucking role model? How sad and pathetic is that? That man-child Braden Peters (talk about generic white-boy names!) is clearly mentally unwell and his parents clearly failed him. (You can’t start injecting testosterone at fourteen without parental consent, can you? There were places in his life where his parents should have parented better, but he also bears some responsibility for how broken he is; overdosing on crystal meth is a warning sign he clearly isn’t capable of reading.) How can anyone look at Theo Von, Joe Rogan, Andrew Schulz, and other grifters of their ilk, and think, that’s what I want to be like.
Shudder.
So many podcasts and their podcasters are the dregs of humanity. But when you’re selling something people want to buy–your inability to get laid isn’t your fault–you’ll always make money.
And their mentality that gay men are somehow lesser than them because we’re not into the bullshit they are is laughable. None of them would get laid if they were gay men; no gay men would ever find them attractive–especially when you know they don’t clean their ass properly because “that’s some gay hit, man.” No fucking thanks. That any woman would ever want to fuck any of their unhygienic selves–I mean, I can smell Theo Von through the screen, you know? He also used to work out at my old gym once in a while; it was weird seeing him when he was nothing more than that douche from Road Rules trying to start a comedy career. And no, even when he was younger and in much better shape–he was still completely unfuckable, to me at any rate. Trust me, bros, you ain’t got nothing to fear from us queers, okay?
So, no, the straight men aren’t okay. Thank God my straight male friends aren’t anything like them–but they wouldn’t be my friends if they were. I don’t assume all straight men are homophobic sexist pricks until proven otherwise…but they often prove themselves lacking in that area without any prompting or assistance from me. I’ve been wanting to tackle the topic of “boys will be boys” and “locker room talk” as one of my masculinity essays, but haven’t really found my way into it–the US Men’s Olympic Hockey team made me think of it, along with the Access Hollywood tape we all listened to back in 2016–and trying to find my way into the subject. The rape academy shit may be the key to the opening paragraph, plus the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time in locker rooms throughout my lie, or in male-only spaces, and have heard it myself.
I also never excused it.
Sigh.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines and getting some breakfast. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.
Statue of Ramses II at night with the crescent moon
Yes, this is yet another song that inspired me to write a short story–“No Security Provided,” thus far an unfinished first draft, about a woman driving north on I-75 hurriedly but has to make a rest stop and finds herself in a bad situation–which I really should finish someday. It has the potential to be a very good story, you know? Or it could be a worthless piece of crap no one will want. Your mileage might vary. I’m sure it often does.
For the first time in three weeks I have a work-at-home Friday, and it feels nice to be getting back into my normal routine. Yesterday was fine; I made it through the day unscathed, not tired, and pretty cheerful for the most part. I got home in time to see the final rotation of the Gymnastics national semifinals, in which LSU clinched a spot in the finals with three incredible floor routines back to back to wrap up their night. That made me even cheerier, and watching the news didn’t upset me too terribly. (I think I’ve just snapped about the country, to be honest; I’m numb to it all, with one notable exception–more on that later) I have some quality assurance to get done this morning, and some chores I’d like to take care of. I’ll need to also figure out what to get from the grocery store and what to have delivered, and when. I do need to run uptown to the post office, and maybe can drop off a load of books to the library sale. I can do that tomorrow, and swing by–oh, you don’t need to know the rundown of my plans for the weekend. I’m not sure I do, to be honest, other than as a reminder. I’ve been watching Jeopardy! clips on Youtube, trying to sharpen my mind, as well as playing a computer game that requires focus and concentration. I don’t know if that will work or not, but it seems to be? Anyway, I am feeling content this morning. The good night’s sleep undoubtedly helped with me feeling good and rested this morning, and that is so awesome, you know? I didn’t even sleep in that late, either. Sparky was a cuddlebug again this morning, but not as patient as he was last weekend waiting for me to get up and feed him, so I was up shortly after seven without issue. I am on my second cup of coffee this morning, and I already had my morning coffee cake, but my stomach still feels a bit on the empty side, so I’ll be making some toast or something in a moment.
It occurred to me yesterday, as the news of the CNN story on the so-called on-line “rape academy,” that I will never run out of material for my newsletter series on masculinity, will I? Certainly not as long as mediocre straight men can’t get laid due to their looks or lack of personality….scratch a straight man, and the odds are in your favor when it comes to finding one who’s a rapist, or one who has thought about it. Intrusive thoughts are still your thoughts. And the way men will always circle the wagons without question or thought when a man is credibly accused of sexual assault has always been rather telling, I’ve always believed. Not all men, of course, one can never truly generalize any demographic group as there are always plenty of exceptions to the generalization, but…it’s always a man.
I remember as a kid, when reading about history or mythology, I’d encounter the word rape and not know what it meant; I assumed it meant abducting them and nothing more than that–the rape of the Sabine women comes to mind–and it wasn’t until much later that I realized what the gods and soldiers were actually doing, and how casually the concept was introduced to me, and by extension, to all kids in that time period as not a big deal that it’s no wonder than men are socialized to think their cavemannish belief they are entitled to a woman’s body whenever and wherever they want. (This is why I love Sarah Weinman’s work so much–Without Consent is probably one of the most important non-fiction works on women’s bodily autonomy in years–or at least since her last book. I really need to read it again so I can write about it. It’s just too important of a book for me to dash off some thoughts without being thoughtful, you know?)
It also looks to be another stunning April day outside, so maybe sitting outside with a book this afternoon might be a good call. Or a little walk down to the park and back, or over to Walgreens; I do need to get some Claritin. So, I think I’m going to bring this to a close and head over into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, y’all, and I’ll be back yet again in the morning.
I have to go into the office to work today, as there is no one to do walk-in testing–which also means I have to be there all day. I was highly annoyed at first, as anyone would be, and then decided being annoyed wasn’t going to make anything better, so accepted it and moved on. I also bartered Monday as my work-at-home day, so that will be very nice. Isn’t that a better outcome than being bitter and brooding? I am feeling better mentally lately, and staying in a mostly positive mind space. Obviously, the world is (gesticulates arms around) whatever the fuck this is, and it is very easy to get angry, or defeated, or overwhelmed–but that doesn’t help and that doesn’t make anything better and it certainly doesn’t make enduring these interesting times in which we find ourselves living in these days.
Imagine threatening the Pope–the bloody POPE–with kidnapping? You know what another name for the Avignon Papacy was? The Babylonian Captivity. BIBLICAL, wouldn’t you say? Catholics consider the Avignon Papacy such an affront to God they called that period the same name that is used for the Babylonian enslavement of Israel.
Interesting times indeed. Good luck with going after the Vatican. It’s also been interesting seeing Catholics shocked to realize evangelicals don’t actually consider them to be Christians–and don’t think they don’t have Catholics on the list for cleansing, too. Catholics have long been stigmatized in this country–how many Catholic presidents have we had? Just the one?–but once the evil right wing theocratic fascists figured out that abortion was a winning issue for them and a way to drag the Catholics in to use them for political power, that has kind of died down some…but it’s never gone away. Bigotries and prejudices don’t go away suddenly and without conscious choice…and I doubt that anyone put in the work in evangelical circles to truly kill off anti-Catholic bigotry.
Which is why it’s so weird that the majority of Supreme Court justices are Catholic.
I’ve always felt that the Religious Right had a day of reckoning coming, because one thing the vast majority of Christians can agree on is that every other Christian who doesn’t believe the same things and worships even the slightest bit differently is going straight to hell. That coalition was always doomed to fragment, and it’s a bit satisfying for me–who recognized the threat they posed to politics and culture and society back in the 1970s when they started to rise.
Yesterday wasn’t a bad day at work, and I wasn’t super tired when I got home. Paul got home shortly after I fed Sparky, and we settled in for the evening (it’s been an eternity since we’ve both been home in the evening). We caught up on the news, including a bizarre press conference, and then started watching Detective Hole. I had not read the books1, but the show looked interesting. The show is very good, if a bit on the bleak side–but that’s the Scandinavian noir/dark style, isn’t it? Visually, it’s stunning, and the plot is interesting. We will continue watching, but the first episode was a bit intense, so we then switched over to the first episode of the final season of The Boys, which recently dropped–they are not hiding the allegories anymore, you’d have to be a complete idiot to not see what they are doing–yet as always, there are people who don’t get they are on the wrong side in real life and gat very upset when the truth of what they’re enjoying hits them and they realize they like a WOKE SHOW. Oh, the horrors.
I want to write this weekend, and I am going to try. The essays are taking a bit out of me, especially when I write a long one like this most recent one. But hope springs eternal, doesn’t it? I feel really rested this morning, too. It’s nice not having to go in at the time I usually do; I was able to sleep a little later than usual this morning, which felt great. I think I will have the energy to be around people today and not want to commit any homicides–but I also haven’t driven to work yet, either; the drive can sometimes be a bit much with idiots on I-10. There’s no rush to get there; I technically don’t have to be there until ten, but I also have a meeting at ten so I need to be there by then for sure.
Oh, I was also included in this lovely write-up for Crime Reads for current and upcoming new works; you can read it here if you like.
All right, I am going to get another cup of coffee and get ready to head into the spice mines. May your Friday be as lovely as you are, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.
Rome, if you want to—Rome around the world…
Not after I heard the main character’s name, because I still am a thirteen year old boy sometimes. ↩︎
Thursday and it’s not my last day in the office for the week; I have to go in for a meeting tomorrow morning, but I get to leave right after so that will be nice; I’ll run some errands on the way home and get that out of the way for the weekend; anything else can be delivered. I didn’t really want to get up this morning, or out of bed; knowing I have to get up to an alarm tomorrow morning (Good Friday) doesn’t help much, either. But it rained overnight so I did sleep well, despite the rain kicking my sinuses back into fifth gear. I’ll be semi-sort of busy today at work; yesterday was busy but not terribly exhausting. I’m having dinner with a friend tomorrow night, so that’s something to look forward to. I do feel pretty okay this morning, but my legs are a bit fatigued. I’m also starving, so I need to eat something before I head to work this morning.
Yesterday was a rainy day alternating with sunshine and blue skies; there was a terrific downpour in the mid-afternoon which made me wish I was home with Sparky in my lap, reading. Ah, well, it wasn’t to be, and the damp in the air made the air conditioning at the office feel even colder. It was a good, if busy, day; I had a lot of clients and a lot of work to catch up on…I am almost current with everything, but hopefully coming in tomorrow morning for the meeting will help me get a lot of that done. It’s weird, it’s about a year from when I got so sick last year and wound up in the hospital, so I am really paying attention to my body and keeping an eye out for warning signs. I am medicated for that condition now (so many pills every morning and night, sigh), so it shouldn’t be an issue but…this year is probably the only year I will worry about it returning. But it does make for some not-as-bad-as-they-used-to-be stressed reactive thinking for a moment or so.
It was also very weird but I recently managed to feel bad for Lindsey Graham, and it’s not that often that I feel bad for a terrible person. I despise Graham, but there are a lot of things you can use to attack him rather than calling him gay or Miss Lindsey or Aunt Pittypat–all of which are not only homophobic but also transphobic in some cases. Yes, there are a lot of closeted gay men in the MAGA movement (self-loathing, party of one, your table is ready), and yes, they do a lot of damage not just to queers but to everyone who isn’t a white man…but mocking them for being gay and closeted isn’t it. With all due respect, Graham has undoubtedly been bullied and mocked for being gay his entire life–and as someone who also experienced that until I came out, I can empathize and have sympathy for that. Also, if he wants to go to, and enjoys, Disney World, and also likes bubble wands? On the one hand, I am not opposed to anything that makes someone happy, and the notion that straight adult men can’t love Disney is…well, gendered. I don’t know if Lindsey Graham is gay or bisexual or whatever it is that he likes to do; he may be asexual for all we know. But I don’t like speculation (or bullying) based on rumors. Lindsey Graham is a horrible, horrible human being; we don’t need to throw all queers under the bus in order to drag him for filth. It’s also very interesting how many “allies” will immediately go to queer slurs and insults if they decide someone “deserves” it. Graham deserves to be bullied and mocked and dragged, but not for going to Disney World (in itself nothing shameful; but shame him for going instead of doing his job, not because it’s a “gendered” thing to love Disney as an adult) or for possibly having an alternate sexuality. Don’t make me defend Lindsey Graham anymore, people. I don’t like it–but bullying someone for being gay, whether they are or not, is bullshit.
There are plenty of reasons to drag Graham–his masculinity isn’t one of them.
Likewise, I don’t care what Bryon Noem does in his private life, and what kind of marriage the Noems have had (staying married for their Christian bona fides would be my guess)…but yes, it’s the height of hypocrisy to be the morality police for everyone else when you have a marriage agreement of some sort, just like Erikkka Kirk can’t wrap herself in her wailing widowhood when she’s clearly been having the time of her life since her husband’s murder–and it’s not even been a full year yet. MAGA people are clearly mostly freaks privately and that’s fine. As long as no one is being harmed and consent is involved, knock your socks off. But don’t police everyone else’s morality when you have feet of clay, you know?
Let’s not forget the couch fucker also did drag when he was in college.
Sigh.
Paul didn’t get home last night before I went to bed, so it was just me and Sparky in my easy chair watching news clips and watching documentaries about inbred Hapsburgs, which I enjoy for some reason. The Hapsburgs have always fascinated me, with their inbreeding and religious fanaticism (which always makes me shake my head; there is literally nothing in the Bible that instructs anyone to mass murder people who believe differently. The Hapsburgs were the illustration of “there’s no hate quite like Christian love.” I wasn’t tired, but Sparky was very needy and wanted my lap to sleep in; he was dead to the world, dreaming and talking some in his sleep, and so I didn’t want to disturb him. It’s silly, I know–he’ll just go sleep somewhere else if I get up–but the dirty looks he gives me when I do disturb him are quite compelling. No one can side-eye quite like a sleepy cat, can they?
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. It may rain again today, and it’s definitely going to be muggy today. Sigh. I need to pick up some more Claritin tomorrow. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.
There’s nothing prettier than the Quarter on a foggy evening
Ah, you have to love waking up and checking your email and the first subject line you see is Reminder: Inspector Hole is now on Netflix. It always makes me laugh–as does the fact his first name is Harry–because I sometimes have the maturity level of a junior high student. I’ve always meant to get to Jo Nesbø’s highly acclaimed series, just never have. The Festivals will be over by Sunday night, and so normality might return to the Lost Apartment (I’m not counting on it) soon and we can start watching a new show, or the new season of a favorite. I’ll be done with The Traitors New Zealand (I’m not enjoying this season as much thus far, but it should start kicking into gear soon. I was bitterly disappointed they banished the hottest guy already, which threw a wrench in my social theory I was developing from watching. Then again, it could be the exception that proves the rule. Sorry, Fili, you were gone too soon) by the end of the weekend. I will be heading down to the Quarter later for the Saints and Sinners opening party, but will probably come home directly after. Everything I have to do is on Sunday, which will make for a long, draining day, and am very glad I wisely took Monday off to recover and run errands and get ready for the week. I have some work-at-home duties to get done and a training later this morning on-line, so I am also going to try to clean the apartment when my eyes get bleary and start to cross. I got up and fed Sparky on time before going back to bed for a couple of hours, so I feel very rested this morning. Sparky is also playful this morning, so he’s alternating between attacking me with claws and fangs or chasing a bottlecap. He really is adorable, if a bit of a pest sometimes.
I was tired when I left the office yesterday and came straight home from work. I plopped down into my chair with Lord Sparkster and caught up on the news, which was horrible as per usual with this regime. I obviously watched an episode of The Traitors because of course I did, have you been paying attention? I was going to start watching the new Paul Theroux documentary but after seeing the toxic white men all day on social media I just couldn’t face even watching these twerps getting mocked the way I am sure the documentary does (my favorite comment to these pricks on-line is “if everyone’s an alpha no one is”), but I’ll try it tomorrow or tonight when I get home from the party.
The world figure skating championships are also this weekend, with Ilia Malinin in first after the men’s short, with the other Americans in the Top Ten–and Amber Glenn and Isabeau Levito are third and fourth, in medal position. I was very happy to see Ilia’s short program on YouTube last night; he seems much freer and happier than he did in Italy at the Olympics.
All the homophobes are, of course, out in force since it was revealed that a future season of Bridgerton will actually feature a lesbian romance by changing the gender of the male lead to a woman. Oh, the straight white ladies—the same ones who creamed themselves—and still do—about Heated Rivalry, and members of the m/m community suddenly realizing, like gay men have been telling them for almost twenty years, that it’s a fetishfor some of you and you need to listen to gay men and call out the homophobia which you never did.
For the record, you homophobic bitches, I read and consume lesbian art regularly because it’s good, not because it gets me off. If a gay man can read and enjoy lesbian art, a straight woman certainly can. Then again, if it’s okay for straight women to write vampires and space aliens why can’t they write gay men? (This has been said to me any number of times. Yes, we only exist in fiction, bitch.) I saw a lot of this misogynistic patriarchical thinking from a lot of hateful straight white women yesterday, and no, you’re never beating the allegations, ladies. Clean up your community and stop attacking gay men.
Someone also pointed out something interesting in response to one of those right-wingers who posted about how he has liberal friends and they all get along because they don’t talk about politics—they noted these posts only ever come from the right, never the left. How often do you see someone on the left post about how they’re still friends with their right-winger friends and family because they don’t talk politics? It’s never someone who isn’t MAGA, and the post inevitably was triggered by being cut off from friends and family members because you voted for a pedophile who’s destroying the world. “You make politics your personality!“ Well, I sure as fuck wouldn’t if I were MAGA, for one, and for two, it’s not politics, it’s morality. How many “I regret my vote” posts and videos have you seen from Harris voters? None? I do see a lot of pining and sadness from MAGA people who’ve been cut off, but they never seem to grasp what their vote and support actually showed decent human beings about who they actually are. I wouldn’t feel safe having my kids around people who support pedophilia, or just are okay with looking the other way.
Sigh.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.
