Category: Politics

Don’t Let Him Go

Here we are on a chilly Tuesday morning (I love our autumn here), and the week is progressing nicely. We weren’t terribly busy in the office, so I was able to get a lot of admin paperwork taken care of, which was very nice, and I am getting geared up for this weekend. I should probably check when my panels are, shouldn’t I?

Fascism is on the run all over the planet–first Hungary, now Brazil and Serbia, and may we as Americans take their lead this time. (It’s wild to think how different of a world we would have now if this administration was in power when Germany invaded Poland in 1939) I’m not getting my hopes up for a blue wave, frankly; I’ve been fooled by polls before, and I’ve learned a hard, if horrible, lesson.

Apparently Harrison Butker can’t even do the one thing he’s good at. It’s almost like God don’t like ugly, you know? The right-wing curse, aka Everything Trump Touches Dies, does seem like a thing, doesn’t it? People seem to forget–Americans aren’t known for their memories–his first term, which, although horrible, seems almost tame in retrospect. (I like to remind people that Baron Harkonnen went to the LSU-Alabama game in 2019; the Tide lost at home for the first time since 2015.) Americans aren’t the good people we fooled ourselves into believing we are; we are the worst people, seriously, collectively. We are extremely self-righteous about our freedom and moral sanctimony, too. No wonder the rest of the world finds us unbearable so much of the time–and we’ve certainly lost what little decent reputation we had in the world. Are we great again yet?

And yet another Democrat running for the Senate in Iowa, one Josh Turek, decided that a week before the election was an excellent opportunity to out himself as a transphobe and a homophobe (they go together hand in glove, sorry not sorry). Was it necessary for him to do so, after Annie Andrews showed what she was made of a few weeks earlier? It’s an easy step from “insurance, including Medicare and Medicaid, shouldn’t cover trans people–make no mistake, that was what he really said–to “fuck marriage equality.” It’s amazing to me how so many people miss the boat with this stuff; has no one actually read and understood the fucking poem “First They Came For”? Saying anything to get elected –which is what his supporters are saying Oh he just had to say that–did he? How many votes did he gain from his anti-trans ad (which I will make sure follows him–and Andrews, too–for as long as I am alive, at the very least) and how many queer people might stay home in Iowa now? They are so quick to slice off a significant part of the base for any reason whatsoever–and then will wonder why there’s no enthusiasm for their campaigns? How can we trust him not to be another Manchin, Sinema, or Fetterman? We can’t.

Health care for all, bitch, includes trans people. Fuck him and the wheelchair he rode in on. Yes, I said it, and I will say it fucking again. A bigot in a wheelchair is still a bigot, right, Madison Cawthorne? Greg Abbott? Need I go on?

I for one am sick to death of having my community’s vote taken for granted by politicians who will gleefully flush us down the toilet for a couple of bigot votes. This has never been a winning Democratic strategy, because who else will you flush for expediency? At least he showed us all who he is, so we can look forward to him, if elected, blocking progressive legislation. Is another Fetterman 2.0 a winning strategy? My years of loyalty and support for\the Party–I’m registered as a Democrat so I can vote in Louisiana primaries, but I am not a centrist and I am tired of timidity and “change is very slow”–are dwindling with every latest betrayal. Seriously, do I honestly believe Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries aren’t going to bend over and lube up their asses for the administration? If they were good at their jobs 2024 would have had a different outcome, and yes, I do believe that. They are both hacks and owned body and soul by their donors. They aren’t going to push back on anything; they may send a few strongly worded emails…what have they done for the last two years? And don’t give me that “they don’t have any power!” when Republicans, when in the minority, have gummed up everything. Obama has a pretty good record, sure–he wasn’t the greatest at everything–but what about the Democratic congressional record of the last twenty years? We haven’t had a liberal lion who could get shit done since Ted Kennedy died.

If there is a Blue Wave, watch people like Durek derail any and every thing progressive that comes over his desk, and then watch the base get dispirited, disappointed, and stay home in 2028. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Heavy sigh.

But state of the world aside, I had a very lovely day yesterday. I did some more writing and editing last night around being a Sparky bed, and worked on the current essays in progress–The Amityville Horror and Mazywood, which I need to finish reading–which was fun. I do enjoy writing, and hope to dip back into the book tonight. I am loving this cooler weather, which is my sweet spot–and my favorite time of year in New Orleans. I am also doing some research and planning of the next Scotty, which I am kind of itching to get back to.

And on that particular note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Till then!

Karnak Temple at night

Candy-O

And work-at-home Friday has rolled around again, somehow. I slept later this morning, and do feel a bit wrung-out, but not bad; I suspect my morning shower will take care of that completely. I slept very well–I am loving this cooler weather; I even wore long sleeves last night to dinner at Le Petite Grocery (which was superb on every level; the food and the conversation with my friend, whom I adore). I am in a pretty good mood this morning, and I also don’t have any meetings this morning, either.I have some paperwork to work on, and we’re going to Costco later. I also have some errands to run, which I may do this morning to get out of the way. LSU plays at eleven tomorrow, so I won’t have a lot of time to do much tomorrow morning…I’ll figure it all out later; right now I just want to swill coffee and finish this.

The apartment is also a mess, and I have to do the bed linens and the dishes (again), and it would be nice to get my inbox emptied today. But we’ll see how the day goes. I also have to finish watching this week’s Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which I had started after work yesterday but had to turn off to go have dinner. The coffee is starting to clear my cobwebs, which is always a most excellent thing. I need to write, and I need to make a to-do list for this weekend so I don’t get off track and/or get easily distracted by a Youtube wormhole or something…which is ridiculously easy to do. Thanks, ADHD!

Apparently three escorts have come public with allegations that Lindsay Graham was a client, and I am not exactly sure why this is news? It would have been news had it broken while he was alive and actively doing damage not only to the queer community but to the country overall as well. He’s dead now, and being gay isn’t a crime…I am also unsure if it’s a crime to pay for sex. I know it’s a crime to get paid for sex, which is horribly wrong; the sex worker wouldn’t be doing sex work if not for the people willing to pay them. (I also don’t believe sex work, regardless of who’s the client and who’s the worker, should be a crime; more of that Puritan ethos in our society, and it’s about the patriarchy, as so many things are. The presumption is that only men will pay for sex and only from women; so of course the man is the victim and the woman the criminal.) Graham was dogged by these rumors his entire life, and I am not a proponent of bullying someone for being gay because some people think he might be gay. He clearly hated himself, and I cannot imagine how hellish his life must have been. If he hadn’t worked so hard against us, I might even be capable of some empathy for his fucked-up psyche. But money and power and acceptance by his peers was more important, and I am glad I chose not to live miserably. If anything, Graham is just another victim of homophobia in the end, even if it was entirely self-inflicted.

And seriously, who the fuck cares at this point? I also remain grateful that I didn’t end up like him, which was always a possibility until I turned thirty.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Enjoy your Friday, Constant Reader and I’ll be back in the morning before the game. Till then!

Double Life

Here we are and Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has somehow rolled back around again. How is that even possible? Madness, am I right? I’m getting more tired the deeper into the week we get, but I’m sleeping well and deeply, so hopefully I can make it to work-at-home Friday safely and easily. I’m also enjoying this colder (for us) weather. Fall and spring are my favorite, albeit the briefest, seasons in New Orleans. I really don’t mind the winter that much, either, here. I just don’t like snow, ice and frigid wind that cuts right to the bone. But it’s nice not sweating to death in the car before the a/c starts blowing cold, or from just walking a bag of garbage to the bins through hot soupy air.

Yesterday wasn’t bad. I got things done at the office, then came home to do some chores and write something due tonight at the latest, and there are definitely some emails I need to get to today. I am going to head uptown to get the mail after work and make some groceries–nothing major, but we need a few things–and I did get caught up on my Real Housewives shows once I was home from the office last night. I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home, and Sparky needed his bonding time once I walked in the door. When Paul got home, we watched another episode of The Diplomat, which may be my favorite current show–it’s very smart and the cast is exceptional, and Keri Russell, Alison Janney, and Jodie Whittaker are killing it.

This entire Jalen Hurts situation is so insane to me; how was that medical advice possibly considered legitimate and not insane by anyone with a brain? Has everyone forgotten that the same thing almost killed Serena Williams twice? I don’t really follow the NFL, but I remember Jalen Hurts from his years in college football. Sure, I hated it when LSU had to play him, but that was because he was so good, and he seemed like someone not driven by ego, evidenced by his not leaving Alabama after being benched until his final year of eligibility, when he transferred to Oklahoma–and Alabama’s fans were cool with it, which is unheard of for that fan base. So, clearly a good guy. He’s also ridiculously good looking, and I love that his entire team is Black women. I suspect the lawsuit from this horrific medical incompetence could potentially bankrupt the Eagles–and it should. New Orleans would have never in a million years pulled this kind of shit on Drew Brees back in the day.

But then again, Drew is a white man, just saying.

I do feel pretty good this morning, honestly. I should be able to get my next newsletter out either today or tomorrow, and should have no problem getting another out over the weekend. Doing my Halloween Horror Month and writing newsletters about horror media that I am visiting (or revisiting) makes them much easier to produce, but don’t worry–we’ll be back to Greg’s Observations again soon enough. I also know I can’t be the only one who is ready for this election cycle to be fucking over. The recent GOP smear ads have been particularly disgusting–the one about Amy Acton in Ohio is completely disqualifying for Vivek Ramaswamy, whom calling a bottom-feeder is a compliment. The ones in Texas–which we sometimes get to see, hurray–are especially egregious and evil. How people can view this horrific lies and vote for the people putting them out is beyond me–but then, the last ten years have been an eye-opening experience, and sorry not sorry; that genie isn’t going back into the bottle. Y’all showed the world who you really are, and no amount of tears and FAFO is ever going to make me change my mind about what pieces of shit you are.

The “people going no contact with MAGA” has definitely become a broader, bigger issue, and it’s getting coverage…but always from the perspective of the people being cut off, and the fact they are mystified that this happened to them tells me everything I need to know about what kind of people they are. I read one piece yesterday from a mother whose son disinvited her and her husband from his wedding, and doesn’t really speak to them anymore because…well, she just doesn’t know why, and how could her son do this to her? The entire piece was the greatest example of why her son wants nothing to do with her anymore that I could possibly think up; and did she really think writing and publishing an article about how cruel her son is being to her for no reason? Just her publishing the piece would ensure she would never see me or my children again, which shows she’s probably done and said some pretty horrific things because she’s his mother, damn it, and he is SUPPOSED to love her no matter what.

The fact that she isn’t leading with “I wish he would tell me what led to this so I could make it right”? I am #teamson all the way. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

Maybe some self-reflection, ma’am?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I shall return in the morning!

This would make a terrific book cover image! I love how spooky the bayous in the wetlands can look. Robert Miller does excellent nature photography of Louisiana. Support his work at https://www.rmpgallery.com/

My Best Friend’s Girl

Saturday morning and I should be waking up in a motel in Alabama instead of sitting at my desk in the Lost Apartment, yet here we are, you know? It’s gray out there this morning, but the sun is behind a few clouds. I just thought it more prudent not to drive up there until this is all over, and I don’t have to worry about flash flooding along 59N. I cannot imagine much worse than being stranded by weather in rural Mississippi, you know? Last night was the best night of sleep I had all week for some reason that I am not questioning but really am embracing. I do have some errands to do this morning, and I need to do some cleaning and get started on packing, too. There are games all day today on television, but looking at the schedule–I thought Georgia-Alabama was a night game, but according to the schedule I just consulted it’s the afternoon game. The morning game is A&M at Missouri, so…I can run errands this morning and have some things delivered. I was lethargic yesterday; I had the day off after my benefits meeting so I could drive north after, but the weather was too iffy and I really didn’t like that flash flood watch on 59N. I did manage to get the laundry done, though, and I did work on some other chores, but the kitchen and living room are still a mess, but that will give me something to occupy my time during games and half-time and so forth.

Oh, and GEAUX TIGERS! LSU plays at Kentucky tonight, and it should be a good game. Oh, the Texas-Oklahoma game is this afternoon, too. Like I said, lots of good games today.

We finished Neagley last night, which we both loved and hope there’s going to be another season on to infinity, it’s really that good. We got caught up on AHS:13, which has lost the plot but, you know, Jessica Lange and Angela Bassett, both of whom elevate their material. We also watched this week’s Traitors, which was fun and ended on an amazing cliff-hanger (as they always do; we won’t know who was murdered until next week), and finished Lanterns, which was also superb and probably the best DC television series–probably ever. Kyle Chandler and the entire cast is fantastic, but Aaron Pierre embodies John Stewart as well as Alan Ritchson does Reacher. Green Lantern was never one of my favorites (though I loved his team-up comic with Green Arrow, aptly titled Green Arrow/Green Lantern), but I did appreciate him–and I missed the time in the comics when Hal Jordan handed off to John Stewart and Guy Gardner, so was never sure how that played out or how we wound up with two of them–but I know John Stewart was around pre-Crisis, so yes, I missed that story.

If you’re also wondering how strong this Isaias storm is, they’ve closed Waffle Houses all over the panhandle and around Mobile, so yes, terrifying. And yes, the cost of gas is about to go up again, if it hasn’t already; storm in the gulf means jump in gas prices. Always.

Heavy sigh.

I do feel good this morning, and better about things in general. Yesterday, I was subjected to the ever-popular “shut up faggot and vote blue no matter who if you know what’s good for you” because I had the temerity to call out Democratic candidates who throw the queer community under the bus to pander to homophobic voters….who will never vote for your ass in the first place…and then not five minutes after the latest Democratic betrayal to have the nerve to send me an email asking for money “because we need to flip” Congress. Silly me, my thought was “you released a homophobic ad and you’re asking ME for money now? Go fuck yourself with a razor blade studded dildo, bitch; ask your TERF voters for money.” Oh, but queer people have to just suck it up and donate and vote blue no matter who but all you fucks who couldn’t bring yourselves for the Black woman because reasons but think we just have to eat a shit sandwich and hope she’s not one of them once elected? Bitch fucking please. How many times already have we seen this play out? Sinema, Fetterman, etc. Well, I don’t live in her state, just as I don’t live in the states where other so-called “progressive Democrats” have already walked back unflinching support; so, not a national candidate. Ask the homophobic voters you’re courting for money, because you’re not getting any of mine. Funny how candidates that are allies always have some other thing that doesn’t pass the “purity tests,” but homophobia is just fucking fine with these same people. Fuck them, fuck you, and if you can get elected, great–but don’t come fucking crying to me when your savior (remember Graham Platner? His homophobia wasn’t enough to derail with progressives, and they fought for him to the death despite all of his baggage…which inevitably blew up his campaign) turns out to be a narcissistic corrupt piece of shit.

And political influencers? They’re in this for clicks, likes, and subscriptions. I don’t trust any of them, and don’t much care for most.

Homophobes, or people who pander to them, are never progressives. You cannot be a progressive if you’re homophobic, racist, or misogynist or some combination of those. And if you think those are progressive values, enjoy Hell when you get there, because you’re a piece of utter shit.

Oh, don’t worry–ultimately, I am not going to be stupid and not vote, or vote Republican. Jamie Davis has a shot at breaking the MAGA stranglehold on Louisiana, and I am not sitting that out by any means. Do I know how Davis feels about queer equality and our community? No, I don’t–but I know I am voting for him anyway, just as I hope people will vote blue no matter who in other states. But I am already preparing myself for the inevitable settling of these progressive candidates into corporate moderates, like they always do, getting money under the table to sell out their constituents and supporters. But I realized that, yet again, I am voting for harm reduction.

Just one more time I’d like to vote for someone I can believe in, you know? I’m sick of voting for the lesser of two evils…and it’s not like the DNC gives two shits about us in Louisiana–where’s the money from the DNC for Jamie Davis and Angie Nixon? Schumer and Jeffries–both of whom need to be removed from leadership–are going to hobble anything if they have a majority these next two years, which is just long enough for them to write strongly worded emails and social media posts and nothing else so the country turns on them again just in time to vote MAGA back into power again in 2028. I haven’t given money to the DNC in years, because the milquetoast approach they’ve taken over the last twenty years has been an utter failure; I just give directly to candidates now.

I also think there’s way too much money in elections now. It’s become an industry. How is that good for we, the people? It’s not, actually.

And on that note, I am off to the spice mines for today. I need to figure out a plan for today, but first I’m going to check in on the news, see what’s happening with the storm, and have some breakfast. I will see you tomorrow morning before I drive north, Constant Reader. Have a great day!

Got a Lot On My Head

Wednesday morning Pay the Bills Day has somehow moved back up onto my calendar and somehow is today again. Seriously? When did this happen? My word, the way time flies. Anyway, yesterday was a pretty good day at work, overall. I got a lot done–with more to do before I leave Friday–and felt pretty good about the day. I was tired after work and was able to go straight home (errands tonight), and was too tired to do much of anything except sit in my chair with Sparky and watch the season finale of Real Housewives: Ultimate Girls’ Trip, and then two more episodes of Neagley before I went up to bed. I woke up several times during the night, but I feel rested–at least for now, at any rate–and tonight I need to start getting ready for the drive on Friday, which I am looking forward to. Peter Straub’s Shadowlands will make an excellent travel companion, methinks.

Well the system that sprang up in the Bay of Campeche started moving north, but the cone of uncertainty this morning has shifted more east, so landfall is moving away from New Orleans, which is a good thing. There will be rain and high winds and flooding from Isaias (named as a storm overnight) and it’s not going to be ashore until around one a.m. in the morning Saturday. I’ll beat the storm driving north, but it will impact us in Alabama and the cone extends all the way to Kentucky, but hopefully all will well and past when we head north on Monday. I was also a little concerned about leaving Paul and Sparky with a storm coming, but with the eastward shift I feel a little more relief.

I’ve seen a lot of chatter on-line since Monday night about how the “Saints let the city down.” First of all, fuck you, and second of all, winning this game wasn’t nearly as important as it was in 2006. It was twenty years ago. The average age of Saints players is 26, so they would have been pretty damned young when that game was played and a year younger when Katrina hit. Unless they experienced Katrina themselves, they probably have very little memory of it, or how important the 2006 Dome-coming game was to everyone in New Orleans; a city still mostly in ruins, and how wonderful it felt to have the Saints playing at home, and then winning in an incredibly exciting game? I remember Paul and I watching at home, screaming and yelling and jumping up and down–I’ll never, ever, forget Steve Gleason’s blocked punt–and how it gave us something besides misery and rebuilding to think about, and how proud and happy everyone was before, during and after. I wondered about it before hand; would the expectations be too heavy on the players? And the day did not have the same feel to it as it did twenty years ago. I noticed it at the start of the game, and owrried that maybe it was drilled into their heads how much this mattered, and they freaked out because of that combined lack of understanding and the pressure to not let us down.

So, yes, it was disappointing–and it’s always disappointing to lose to the dirty birds–but it wasn’t the end of the world and guess what? We’re all still here, aren’t we?

As for the MAGA trash in Nebraska? The next time I see any fucking farmer whining about getting exactly what the fuck they voted for, I am going to post that clip in response with the caption “This isn’t as funny to me as you losing your generational farms, assholes.” I say let it go back to prairie; the buffalo can repopulate it. And don’t come for me about blue dots in a red state–I am a blue dot in a red state. And if that was a Louisiana crowd, we’d deserve every bit of hate we’d get as a state.

And for the record, we are watching in real time as billionaires develop Skynet, because they think somehow it won’t affect them…you know, like farmers in fucking Nebraska. Miss me forever with that bullshit “real America” shit. Maybe real losers’ America, but never real America.

For the record, you inbred imbeciles, San Diego is the primary base for the Pacific Fleet, and there’s also a Marine training camp there. WAY TO SUPPORT THE TROOPS, you piece of shit traitors. Now do the two ports.

It’s the fucking death cult Sarah Palin told us about in 2010, but she said it was the Affordable Care Act that would set up death panels, the lying skank. Why doesn’t she ever get asked about that? Her party is the anti-science, anti-abortion, anti-intelligence, anti-health insurance, anti-vax party, not the Democrats (the corporate ones can lick my asshole clean the next time I have Taco Bell)–I have spent my entire life listening to the stupidest lies told from the right; they love nothing more than to bear false witness against thine neighbors…while warning us that we’re going to hell. “See you there!” is the proper response to that garbage.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back bright and early tomorrow morning.

Sexy Robert Kelker-Kelly, who I crushed on during his days as Sam on Another World. You can see why. Sadly, he passed away this past weekend.

I’m In Touch With Your World

Tuesday morning and here I am, about to head into the spice mines again. Whew! Yesterday was a day. We were busier in the clinic than we have been (I saw ten people in just under four hours), and so was very drained and tired by the time my shift ended. I also ran errands on the way home, and finally dragged myself into the apartment tired, and just wanting to collapse into my chair, Sparky was a love bug, which was just what I needed, and I slept deeply and well, too. It was a very weird energy day; cloudy and gray and humid, we were supposed to get thunderstorms but it felt like one was ready to go at any moment, the air was so thick and heavy. We started watching the Saints game, but switched over to Neagley–the game wasn’t worth watching–and got two more episodes in. It is excellent, I have to say; I may even like it more than Reacher, and that’s saying a lot. Neagley is such a bad ass!

I have to be more focused today because I have a lot to get done before I leave on Friday. I didn’t make as much progress on moving forward as I would have liked, but any progress is progress. I also just looked at the calendar and realized there are two full weeks left in October when I get home from Kentucky next weekend, so that’s somewhat better. I’d also like to get a newsletter out before I head up on Friday afternoon, but we’ll see how that works out, won’t we? Behind on everything; losing the weekend to a lack of energy and brain fog from the vaccines didn’t help much; I also think part of the reason I’ve had stronger reactions to these shots these last few years has everything to do with me having an auto-immune disorder. Duh, right? I need to remember to start seeing my health through that lens, don’t you think? That would make the most sense, would it not?

The hilarity with which I am experiencing this “Medicaid ad” Sarah Slanders had run promoting her “you have to work to get Medicaid” rules and the blowback from her supporters for using a young white dude (pushing the whole “gamer in his mother’s basement” trope) instead of someone Black just has me in stitches. Your ad needed to be racist is a stance I didn’t have on my 2026 MAGA Filth Bingo card, but here we are. I suppose these things shouldn’t surprise me any longer, but…I am nothing if not inwardly optimistic, despite my bitter cynicism. Likewise, I am deeply distrustful of all this “blue wave” reporting. Polls aren’t votes, and it never ceases to amaze me how it never occurs to any news broadcaster that people have any number of reasons to answer questions honestly. Some people don’t want to admit to anyone who they’re voting for; etc. etc. etc….and whenever I get a call from a right wing pollster (or they send me a survey in the mail; the RNC has gotten some amazing survey responses from me, heh heh heh) I lie to them….unless I am in a mood to let them have it with both barrels. And now they are back to shoving Nate Silver, a noted piece of shit, as an “expert” down our throats again because they need and want big ratings from the midterms. (24/7 news is not, nor has it ever been, a boon to the American public.) They also prefer election narratives rather than actually reporting what is going on in the world and the country.

Dennis Hastert died recently, and the only sad thing is that it didn’t happen sooner, the pedophilic traitor. Hope they slathered your corpse with butter for basting your pasty ass in hell, Hastert! You are the reason people need to believe in hell, you know.

Maybe I can talk about the Saints game later this week.

And on that sad note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Taco Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

The night the kudzu gets your fields, you sleep like the dead–“Kudzu” by James Dickey

Music

Saturday in the Lost Apartment and all is well, or so it seems. Yesterday wasn’t the worst day, just kind of a quiet one where I felt off most of the day and couldn’t quite puzzle it out until later in the afternoon: I wasn’t in my normal routine. I had to go to the office for a meeting yesterday morning, ran an errand on the way home, but they had turned off the water to install a new shower in the carriage house, so I couldn’t do laundry or dishes or anything until it was turned back on. I definitely was out of sorts throughout the day. This morning I have to get get my shots (flu and COVID), and run another couple of errands while I am uptown. We didn’t have any gully-washer thunderstorms, either–when we did get rain, it seemed to be that kind that forms when the humidity gets to 100% and it solidifies as water/rain. I also have a lot of my plate this weekend. As I was lying in bed this morning waiting for Sparky’s “feed me” chirps, I started thinking about all the things I do need to get done and was like, when did I get so busy again? I kind of don’t like it! But naught to do but make a list and check things off as they do get done. We’re also supposed to get a lot of rain between now and Monday night, but it’s sunny right now–the forecast claims a thunderstorm will be here within the next hour, but that’s New Orleans for you; the sun can be shining and not a cloud in the sky one minute, and then twenty minutes later it’s pitch black outside and the streets are flooding.

It’s always an adventure.

We watched more AHS: 13 last night, which isn’t as off-the-rails as I had originally thought, but still not very tightly written, despite the brevity of the episodes. I also answered a question I’d been asking myself for a long time: why do I keep watching Ryan Murphy shows when I know they will inevitably be disappointing? As I watched Jessica Lange last night, I realized I watch for the cast. Murphy always has this interesting mix of really talented performers and not as talented but beautiful boys…and then you have someone like Evan Peters, insanely talented and incredibly beautiful. Murphy is also strong into casting nepo babies, but I remain committed to never watching anything with a Kardashian in it.

There are a lot of good football games on today, but LSU is playing McNeese State tonight in Baton Rouge. We’ll watch, even though better games are on because, well, LSU. I’ll miss the start of Alabama-Mississippi State–both are undefeated–but Alabama hasn’t lost to them since 2007 and maybe has lost to them maybe less than ten times historically? I remember it was Mississippi State that broke Alabama’s winning streak in 1980–they hadn’t lost since the early part of the 1978 season–so it is possible, but I’ll believe MSU can win when I see it happen. I almost always default Alabama to win, because they generally do. I do think this is a make-or-break year for their coach; if Alabama misses the play-offs for the third year in a row, he might be done for. Alabama hasn’t won the natty since 2020–which is a long time now for those spoiled fans, who got used to playing for it almost every year under Nick Saban.

The bar there is set even higher than the one in Baton Rouge.

I did spend some more time with The Dead Zone yesterday, which is a marvelously constructed novel, and reading again after so many years I am appreciating the book so much more than all the previous times I read it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed every page on every read; but this time, I am marveling at the craftmanship and the incredible structuring of it. It really is a masterwork (I had always liked The Shining but never loved it. When I revisited that one again sometime in the last years, I appreciated it more (I don’t really like toddlers-in-danger stories; hence why I never connected with either Pet Sematary or Cujo) than I ever had before. If The Stand wasn’t so damned long, I would love to revisit it as well. That, for the record, has always been my favorite King novel.

I must admit, when I learned Vanity Fair was doing a big profile on Erica Kirk I literally rolled my eyes and thought, not this Nazi bitch again and thought, this is why I didn’t renew my subscription (it wasn’t; I’d just forgotten and hadn’t gotten around to it yet) and didn’t. Silly me, Vanity Fair–I forgot you have game, and what you did to the people around Trump in that “emperor has no clothes” piece and photoshoot you did with them, showing that they are actually more awful and stupid than previously believed. I should have known you’d lure the fame-hungry grifter in with the promise of a profile and photoshoot, setting her up to look as bad as humanly possible. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I will be renewing today. You deserve my money for how you cover the narcissistic grifters to whom any attention is better than no attention. Thank you for your service to the Republic.

I also love that Governor Hochul has appointed bad-ass Leticia James to oversee the new investigation into the Cornell gang-rape situation. If the victim is going to actually get any justice, Leticia James will get it for her. I feel a lot better about this case now, and I also think it’s time to do away with campus police. They can be security, but the campus needs to be under the local police jurisdiction at the very least, if not the state’s. The campus police don’t work for the good of the students they work to protect the university. So parents, don’t think campus police are there to protect your children. They are not, just like the police only protect property, not people (and yes, those priorities are askew).

And on that note, I am going to post this and then do some chores around here before it’s time to head uptown for my shots. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

Beautiful young Louis Jourdan

Impressive Instant

Friday morning and in a bit I am off to the office for a meeting before I run errands on my way home. It has been a pretty decent week, in all honesty. I didn’t sleep as well as I would have preferred, but that happens, and I think I was drinking coffee after twelve noon the last couple of days, which could be the cause. Caffeine and I walk a very thin line together; too much makes me sick, and if I drink any after noon I won’t sleep as well. So it goes in the life of a senior citizen. But I did sleep through the night, and feel pretty rested and good this morning (I think my body doesn’t know I am going to the office in a moment, or maybe the extra hour this morning made a huge difference).

It did rain a bit yesterday (and more so while I slept, given how wet everything outside appears to be), and now that I work in a testing room with a window (it faces Elysian Fields1) the temptation to just sit there and watch the rain is very powerful. I am a sucker for rain, always have been, which is yet another reason I love living in New Orleans. I lived in California for eight years and I can’t even remember it raining there, which was awful. The rains of Houston, where I moved next, were awesome though. Unfortunately, that meant the humidity returned after it stopped and the sun came back out. Wednesday it was in the 80s most of the day, but when I left the office it was pleasant out–meaning no humidity–and it wasn’t hot inside the car, either. I managed to get home and into the house without breaking a sweat, and it’s been months since that last happened.

Well, the always problematic Joyce Carol Oates showed her entire flat, unwashed ass by claiming the only genre where AI would be useful would be romance–which she claimed was formulaic and thus of no value, apparently–which is such a disgusting thing for any woman to say, especially one as famous and respected and praised as Joyce Carol Oates. Way to shit on an entire genre, which is predominantly for women and dominated by women. Surely, Ms. Oates doesn’t mean to imply that she hasn’t written anything formulaic, does she? Because I cannot believe every single thing that has come out of her typewriter has been so completely original and never done or tried before and had has advanced modern literature by breaking new and important literary territory? Or is she just another one of those women who dislike other women? I know some of her buddies are misogynist pigs, and despite all evidence that her buddies are garbage, she proudly stands by them. Probably thinks she’s also a feminist while playing pick-me to be one of the guys. I don’t write romance, but I know a snobby bitch when I see one. I don’t need to boycott her because seeing her clearly as a tool of the patriarchy, I stopped reading her.

And I don’t kiss anyone’s ass, no matter how “powerful” they appear to be. It’s easy to shit on a genre when you’ve never written in it–and frankly, because a HEA is de rigeur, romance writers also excel at character, dialogue and place; no one’s going to read a romance that doesn’t affect their emotions because then it wouldn’t be a romance. I would like to challenge every elitist writer who thinks romance is a joke genre to write one. Let’s see exactly how easy it is, shall we? I remember a few years ago when that South American literary writer wrote a thriller “as a joke” but then published it; shitting all over our genre because, you know, she’s so above it. Turned out mystery fans weren’t going to support a snotty, arrogant elitist bitch anymore than a romance fan would.

I may not write romance, and I don’t read a lot of it. But I have edited a lot of romance novels, I appreciate the skills and talents of romance authors, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for them. I may write one someday, not to see if I can make “easy money” (there’s no such thing in this business), but to see if I can actually do it well. I like challenging myself when I write, and I think writing a romance would be a great challenge for me. Someday. I need to finish the current book and write another Scotty before I start the horror novel I’m itching to start writing.

You come for the romance genre through me, bitch.

I didn’t do much around here last night when I got home because I was tired. I came straight home and crashed out immediately into my chair with Sparky in my lap, and I just kind of zoned out with the news–both national and football. Today is my last full day in the office for the week–we have an in-person meeting tomorrow morning–but the good news is the house isn’t in bad shape, and so won’t take me long this weekend to set to rights. I am dragging a bit this morning, which is to be expected on a Thursday morning, right? I slept pretty well the last two nights and have no trouble getting up in the mornings, but I remain a bit tired throughout the day, and maybe not as alert as I would like by the time I get home every night? Thursday nights usually are nights when I don’t do much of anything; but I do have to get up early tomorrow for the meeting. I need to get back to work on writing fiction–the book and some other short stories, but it’s the newsletter essays I’ve been enjoying writing the most lately, which is odd–but I also think writing those is helping me improve on my skills.

Yesterday was also October 1st and the official start of Halloween Horror Month, when most of my reading and streaming will (and should be) horror. I definitely want to watch Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street again, and maybe pick up on some new ones. I really wish Friday the 13th-the Series was available to stream somewhere, because I’d love to watch it all again; I don’t think I ever saw the entire show. But the antique store of cursed objects–and having to track the objects down before they start killing people–was a most excellent concept, and while the show was done on the cheap–it was syndicated back before money was put into syndicated shows–the few episodes I’ve been able to track down on Youtube are a bit hokey, but there’s still a lot of fun to watch. I love dedicating the entire month to horror; even my juvenile rereads this month will have to do with hauntings, methinks. I think AHS:13 airs its entire season by the end of October, which is nice. It’s also weird to think next Friday I’ll be heading up to Alabama for Mom and Dad’s birthdays, and then up to Kentucky for the rest of that following week. This month is going to fly by, isn’t it? And then it’s November and then Christmas and then Mardi Gras and it’s March before I know it.

And ugh, I agreed to moderate a panel at the Louisiana Book Festival, so I have to do two things up there this year. Given the cost of gas, more bang for my buck is probably a good thing. I’ll probably end up going up on Friday and spending the night; there’s an opening party that night I usually skip, but I’d rather do that then get up early Saturday and drive up there…which means booking a room. Add that to my lengthy to-do list.

The local New Orleans gay community is up in arms over something I cannot really speak to without making the following disclaimer: I do not speak for my day job, I am not authorized to speak on behalf of my day job, and I am speaking here solely as myself–Greg Herren, the local gay author who has lived here for over thirty years, moving here before there was life-saving treatment for HIV. If you want to see what’s going on, feel free to go on Facebook and look at either the Queer New Orleans page or certain Quarter bars. I can’t speak on the situation and again do not speak for the agency where I work, but I would like to thank the local gay community for your support and the pushback against the businesses attacking us. I forget sometimes how important we are to the community here, how much good we’ve done (and continue to do), and how much the community actually appreciates us. I thank you, and the supportive commentary I’ve seen was touching–and you know how cold and dead inside I am.

And you know, even if I didn’t work where I do, I would also be grateful to my agency. As a sixty-five year old gay man who lived through the worst of the plague days, I have nothing but respect and appreciation for any organization that does HIV work. Anyone who doesn’t? Absolute trash–and if they ever seroconverted, you can bet your ass they’d be beating down our doors2 for our help.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning while I wait for the thunderstorms.

  1. The street, not the land of the heroic dead. ↩︎
  2. And this, for the record, is why you never fucking hire straight people to run gay businesses. Period. ↩︎

I Deserve It

It’s very difficult to market books about social issues. How do you promote something like that without looking like you’re trying to cash in on a tragedy, or some horrific real world incident? I don’t urge people to read Murder in the Rue Chartres every time a hurricane threatens Louisiana/New Orleans, nor do I ever try to piggyback promotion of the book which talks about the Upstairs Fire with the tragedy’s anniversary, or any time the fire comes up on social media. I don’t like the idea of capitalizing on tragedy for capitalism. It makes me uncomfortable, and while I don’t judge people for doing that, it doesn’t sit right with me.

Yesterday, I wrote and sent out a newsletter inspired by the breaking news about the mishandled Cornell gang-rape situation. Rape is something I have always felt strongly about–against, for the record–because it’s such a bodily violation. Having something shoved inside you without your consent–it sends a shudder through my body and turns my stomach whenever I think about it. So, I talked about the book I wrote about a similar situation happening in a fictional Midwestern town with a strong high school sports culture. My intent wasn’t to promote the book, which would be a shitty thing to do; the intent was to call more attention to the fact this isn’t something new; the book is OLD. I started writing it in 2015, after Steubenville and Marysville. Almost immediately after I hit post and share, I saw someone on social media bitching about people using this Cornell gang-rape (call it by its real name) to promote their “shitty book1s.” I knew that was a risk I was running by talking about my book in the context of why I wrote it (I had started writing the essay originally after the on-line Rape Academy expose by CNN), but after I blocked her, I shrugged. If she wants to assign that kind of blame to an essay I wrote about rape culture through the context of a novel I wrote about it and why, so be it. Go ahead and put me on your “no-read” list; I’ll put you on my “blocked as a bitch” list. See how that works?

Congratulations on your purity, ma’am.

Although I guess hit dogs do holler. The reason I reacted so strongly was because I was concerned people would think that was what I was doing, and anxiety medication aside, I somehow still feel a need to justify that newsletter. The woman probably wasn’t even talking about me–she just popped up, unasked for, on one of my feeds. It’s a free country and she’s welcome to express herself however she wants to–but I am not required to see, read or interact with her on any level.

And frankly, if people are looking for more information on how bad the sexual assault horrors are–well, authors might be thinking hey, you may want to read this for my research. I researched the fuck out of this over the many years I spent working on my book, but I would also direct people to Jon Krakauer’s Missoula, which examines the relationship between college athletics and sweeping rapes under the rug to protect players. LSU has had these problems over the years–it’s part of the package of why Les Miles was fired as football coach (although the cover-ups were okay as long as the team was winning at the national level), and there’s a rapist on campus today who is on the football team.

But all of this did make me think more about the marketing aspect of publishing, and how I’ve never been good at doing it.

I generally don’t talk about my books with an air to selling them to people; I don’t, as I made clear in my essay, selling books is generally the last thing I think about when it comes to my books. (Nothing bugs me more than when someone says “sell me your book!”) I don’t know how to talk about them in ways that will sell them; a manager I had in my twenties told me “you could sell ice to Eskimoes2” but that was just me being me, you know? I know I’m supposed to use every tool at my disposal to market myself and my books but that isn’t something I’ve ever been comfortable doing; to me, it’s cringe. I always think nobody cares and so I talk about my work and my writing in ways that I find interesting. I can’t write something if I’m not interested in it, and that usually isn’t an issue; I can almost always find something interesting (to me, at any rate) in most subjects…but I never, ever set out to write a blog or a newsletter with the thought this will sell me some books.

My mind isn’t wired that way. I guess other people’s must be? But I also don’t see the issue with writing about a societal problem through the lens of having researched the topic and being moved to write a novel to share these stories with people. I didn’t say buy this book, but rather I wrote this book and this is why I did, and the lifelong education on the subject that led me to write it, to try to make sense of something that is completely alien to me.3

I also wasn’t raised to “sing out Louise”4. Being raised to be modest and not accept compliments hasn’t been easy for me to process out of my brain/psyche, but I am getting better about it. But if you always downplay your achievements and successes, why would anyone else play them up? I also had that terrible anxiety-driven “pick me” bullshit going on, too; there’s nothing wrong with tooting your own horn so long as you don’t make it your entire personality, as so many seem to do. There’s a happy medium in there where I can live and exist, and I hope that someday I’ll be able to find that place where I can feel comfortable. One can hope, at any rate, right?

There was definitely a clown show on Capital Hill yesterday, and good ole Cornpone Kennedy had his stupid ass in it up to his neck. MAGA is such a joke; they are so not serious, but they are just as dangerous as a manic three year old on a massive sugar high who got into his parents’ gun cabinet. Thank God they are all so stupid and inept and incompetent; it’s like we got the Hogan’s Heroes brand of fascists here. Imagine if they were as smart as they are evil.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader and I will check back with you tomorrow.

This photo, from the aftermath of the California fires, never ceases to amaze me.
  1. Anyone dismissing any group of books as “shitty” is always going to get my ire up. ↩︎
  2. Is that offensive now? If so, my apologies, but it’s a direct quote. ↩︎
  3. It did occur to me while I was writing the essay that the reason women have always felt comfortable around me is they somehow sense I’m not interested. ↩︎
  4. A friend of mine says this Gypsy quote all the time, and there is something to it. If you don’t talk well about yourself, who will? ↩︎

Nobody’s Perfect

Tuesday morning and we survived Monday, did we not? It wasn’t a terrible day. WE were busier than usual in the clinic, so the day passed relatively quickly. I also made an appointment to get my flu and COVID shots for the year for this Saturday; if I am going to react to them, what better way to do so then in my easy chair while watching college football and dipping some more into The Dead Zone? That will also get me out of the house on Saturday, so I may as well run other errands while I am out. I have an in-person meeting Friday, so I am probably going to do all my hours in the office–at least, that’s what I am thinking today; that may change between now and then. Paul went to the gym last night shortly after I got home, so when he got home from that we queued up this week’s Lanterns, which was wild; I really do enjoy this show and not just because Aaron Pierre and Kyle Chandler are very good looking men. It doesn’t hurt, though; I’m not saying that! But it’s very well written, acted, and produced; perhaps the best DC television series I’ve ever seen (I may not be remembering some others, but I don’t think so). I slept very well last night and feel a bit Tuesday-ish this morning, but not terribly bad.

I checked the call for submissions for the story I finished over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised to see the deadline isn’t Thursday, but rather the 31st. That relieves some of the pressure to get it finished and polished, but doesn’t mean I should wait until the last minute, either. I know there are tense and point of view issues with it, so what I am thinking is I should let it sit until this weekend–something else I can do in case I have a reaction to the shots is edit the hard copy with post-it notes and a yellow highlighter. (Yes, I am old school.) I am also glad I checked because the word limit is four thousand, not five. The story checks in now at 4126 words, so it needs tightening for sure. I also got caught up on emails yesterday, which was a very lovely thing. I don’t know why I am so reluctant to deal with emails these days, but I imagine it has everything to do with the hundreds of emails I used to get weekly: who knew volunteer work came with PTSD? I sure didn’t.

I know now. Lesson learned. I eventually always figure it out; it may take me years, but I do.

Today is a slow one in the clinic, so I should be able to get caught up on administrative details. I can also tell I’m feeling better, physically and mentally, because I am keeping up with my paperwork and everything. I finally have a system, and it works beautifully; much better than the disorganized and inefficient way I was doing it–and it was, indeed, a rut I felt into while I wasn’t in top form and just surviving every day (I don’t longingly dream of retirement anymore, either), which was a deeply unpleasant way to live.

I also scheduled a newsletter for this morning; you can click here to read it. I have been working on this one for a very long time; it’s about the incidents that led to me writing #shedeservedit, and what I was trying to do with the book. The Cornell situation pushed me back to the essay and I finished it; I held off on sending it out because I didn’t want anyone to think I was trying to promote the book off the back of that poor victim, but talking about the book and why I wrote it isn’t promoting it; it’s about exploring a major societal issue we don’t seem terribly interested in solving: men’s entitled expectations towards women’s bodies: an unconscious woman isn’t an invitation for rape.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.