Category: racism

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

Candy Perfume Girl

Here we are on a college football Saturday1 (GEAUX TIGERS!) and all is quiet in the Lost Apartment. I ran errands yesterday, got the mail, picked up my copy of the new Tananarive Due (yay! Hello, October Halloween Horror Month!), and after working at home, I did the laundry and cleaned up around here–somehow the kitchen had somehow gotten out of control again–while the Real Housewives screamed at each other on my television. I don’t know why I find that so entertaining, but I do and I am not apologizing for it. (And yes, I am going to write about it at some point.) We also watched The Traitors: New Blood and started the new American Horror Story: 13, which hurray for Jessica Lange, and hurray for Joey Pollari, who is playing the male lead–been a fan since catching the young openly gay actor in American Crime, an excellent anthology series from the 10s that didn’t draw near the audience it deserved for its writing and incredible cast, which included Regina King in every season. (I’ll watch Regina King in anything.)

I also went back through the book cases and massive TBR stacks to pick out an ambition list of reading for October, especially given how little I’ve been reading lately. My rereads are going to be The Dead Zone (long overdue for a reread, at least since 2016) by Stephen King and The Amityville Horror by Jay Anson. The new to me reads, if I manage, will be Christina Henry’s The House that Horror Built, A House with Good Bones by T. Kingfisher, and Shadowlands by Peter Straub, which I’ve never gotten around to in the forty years and more it’s been available (people always say their favorite Straub is Ghost Story; mine is Floating Dragon); I started it when it was first out in paperback, but never finished. I guess it didn’t grab me, but I grabbed another copy when I read a really interesting piece about it sometime earlier this century. (I also met Straub at Stokercon in Nassau, Long Island at least fifteen or sixteen years ago–the same conference I first met a pre-Gone Girl Gillian Flynn. Both were delightful and charming.)

I actually started my reread of The Dead Zone, and while I only got a few pages into the prologue, I was immediately reminded of why I love King, and that Johnny Smith is probably one of my favorite King characters, and while this book was always overshadowed in my mind by The Stand, which is my favorite King, as the books were released consecutively. I remember back when King was still a new writer and unappreciated by critics and reviewers while his books were literally flying off the shelves–one of my English professors in college, was very disdainful when he noticed I was carrying a copy of Firestarter with me, again shattering any thought I may have had about pursuing English as an undergraduate major because the professors were the worst kinds of snobs and my fellow English majors put no thought into their reading or analysis that wasn’t spoon-fed to them by the professors, whose egos definitely needed stroking (they all had mediocre minds).2 The irony is that while King has always done work of the highest quality, he was unappreciated while he was doing his actual best work. That run of novels, beginning with Carrie and ending with It, is probably unmatched by any other author in the canon of US authors; certainly in horror and crime….and those earlier works stand the test of time; I’ve reread all of those books numerous times.

Yes, a revisitation of a King classic is de rigeur.

Yesterday was a stunningly beautiful day. When I walked out to the car to run said errands, I was amazed at how gorgeous is was outside: warm but not excessively hot, and a coolness to the air that was very refreshing. Then I got in the car, started her up and looked at the temperature gauge and laughed. It was 86 degrees outside–but it wasn’t humid, which makes all the difference. (It’s currently 77 degrees outside; the kind of weather where you want to sit outside and read….or would, if I had a comfortable place to sit outside and read.) This is how the summer breaks us here. Anyway, as I drove around I was reminded again of how beautiful this city actually is, and again how lucky I am to live here so I can be continually inspired by this stunningly beautiful city.

I ordered myself a pair of Apple Beats Pro to finish off the gift card Dad sent me for my birthday. One of the most annoying thing to me about the new iPhone I got last year was that wired earbuds don’t work when plugged into them–and besides, I can’t use earbuds and my hearing aids at the same time. The other night when Paul came home I realized he uses over-the-ear headphones that wirelessly connect to his phone and a long overdue lightbulb turned on over my head. I can use over the ear headphones too, so I went ahead and ordered them. They came this week, but alas, I haven’t had time to set them up yet, so I intend to do that this morning. Just in time, too–since the weather has changed (hopefully for good) and I can go for walks now with them. My goal is to go back to the gym in January, and I need to start building up my stamina before that return.

At this point, kicking Ed Sheeran when he’s down is a bit mean and bullying, but I did laugh when his shows at Kraft’s stadium wound up canceled because of this huge nor’easter heading for New England, which has me worried about my friends up there. Take care everyone, don’t take unnecessary chances, and stay safe up there, okay?

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines for the day. Hope you have a marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be here bright and early before the Saints game tomorrow. See you then!

Love this image of birds over a bayou near Lake Borgne.
  1. Very bad news for the Tennessee Vols, though–Trump is coming to their game with Texas today, and wherever he goes, the home team loses. I don’t like either team, but will watch and hope for a good game. ↩︎
  2. My college experience remains the biggest disappointment of my life. I expected so much more than a continuation of high school, you know? But…I also went to two really shitty colleges. ↩︎

Nothing Really Matters

LSU lost last night to Mississippi, and wow–the world didn’t end. It was disappointing, to be sure, but I don’t go on the emotional roller coaster that I used to, and that’s a much better way to be a football fan, methinks. No need to foam at the mouth or jupup and down or scream at the television. There weren’t many surprise outcomes yesterday, other than Kentucky beating Texas A&M, right after the Aggie crowd cheered Pete Hegseth, and why was he even there in the first place? Remember, the UT fans booed and embarrassed Ted Cruz, and won. Everything they touch dies, seriously. Alabama needed a hot minute before pulling away from Florida State, the Georgia-Arkansas game was so bad I couldn’t watch, and it sounds like Florida-Auburn came down to the wire, maybe being even the best game of the weekend. (I also didn’t know before that Lane Kiffin had played at Fresno State, either.) The Saints game with Baltimore is on at eleven this morning, and I’ll probably turn it on while do other things; I did a lot of cleaning yesterday while Paul was out, which was nice and very overdue.

I really do like this being old meaning you have less fucks to give about shit. No one told me about this side-effect of getting older…maybe I’ve finally become wiser? Nah, not likely. Just don’t really have any extra energy lying around that I can waste on things that really doesn’t matter anymore, or things I can’t control. (I always tried not stressing out about things I can’t control, but before medication, that wasn’t the way my brain was wired.) Hence, not being angry or super-disappointed about LSU losing last night. I’m still going to watch games every weekend; part of the fun of being a football fan is seeing how the season plays out–which is the more graceful and adult way to approach the season.

I did manage to reread The Stepford Wives yesterday, while taking breaks from cleaning and game-watching during the earlier games of the day. I had just revisited the book and wrote about it last year on this blog; I may write about it on the newsletter today, I don’t know. But there are other points to be made about the book and films, and I can go in more depth in the newsletter than I could with this blog. Ira Levin was absolutely one of the greats, and what he was able to do in his novels with so few words was a gift from the gods. I hate that I am unable to focus enough to read something new; I am going to try again this morning with The Shards. I also want to reread The Miracle at St. Bruno’s as a way in to talk about the Tudors and all the reading about them I used to do, and of course, Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree is also sitting there in my Kindle.

I also watched this week’s Real Housewives of Orange County, which keeps limping along and somehow escaping cancellation. The new season of The Traitors has also already dropped its first episode, and hey announced the cast for the next season of celebrity Traitors for the US, and it includes Bianca del Rio! That news more than makes up for them casting MAGA skank and Charlie Kirk worshipper Kristen Chenowith, who is probably trying to rebuild her image after she revealed her true skank self last year. I’d want to be a traitor in that season just to make her the first murder.

And on that note, I am going to get more coffee and repair to the easy chair for a bit, so I can wake up a bit more and do some reading. I also hope to write today, too, so we’ll see how all that goes, won’t we? I will, however, see you again tomorrow morning bright and early before I head to the office. Till then, have a marvelous Sunday however you spend it.

This is what we call in Louisiana an allée–a straight unpaved pathway through. matching trees or shrubs. It’s a very fun word that I want to use more.

Substitute for Love

Friday morning work at home day, with a trip to Costco on the horizon for later. I feel good and rested this morning, despite the fact Sparky tried to get me up around four in the morning for some reason. I did wake up, gave him a look, and went back to sleep while he cuddled with me, which was lovely. I was physically tired when I got home from work last night, so didn’t do much of anything other than writing. I did managed to get a (very) rough draft of that pesky chapter–which still needs some work–which has kind of log-jammed me these past few weeks. My goal for tomorrow is to edit everything I have done so far, preparatory to moving on to the next chapter and reacquainting myself with the characters, the voice, and the story. Woo-hoo! There are also a lot of great football games tomorrow, capping off with the one-two punch night games of Florida-Auburn and LSU-Mississippi.

The amazing thing to me about this Ed Sheeran thing is that it keeps going, and every day and hour it continues to go on the worse he looks. That’s what happens eventually when you’re more interested in being inoffensive–you wind up offending everyone. The fact that so many people he’s friendly with (and works with) are in the Epstein files kind of shows how morally and ethically compromised he is. When I was watching the news last night, I saw someone–I don’t remember who–talking about how entertainers, like Sheeran, are the modern day version of “bread and circuses” from the old Roman Empire (first time I have thought about the Roman Empire in days, if not weeks, for those keeping track–entertaining the populace and keeping our minds off everything else going on in the world. They keep us distracted (look at social media sometimes; it’s why there’s so much celebrity worship) so we will spend money and not see what the Epstein Class has done (and continues doing) to the world and society. Ed Sheeran got very rich doing his part to entertain and not talk about anything substantial (although the white children of Ukraine got him to be political)–he even says it in his pitiful “it’s not my fault” Pilate handwashing statement (“I want to provide a space for love and peace and escape”)…that’s very telling–and it’s hard to look at any of this and think Sheeran has any values, has any compassion or empathy or is, at heart, a decent person. He fucked over a friend at the bidding of a billionaire, has tried to deflect his part in this from day one, taken no responsibility for anything, and shows that he stands for nothing but the Epstein class he continues to make money for.

Does that sound like someone we should support? Christ, Ireland hates him now.

This entire situation is a classic example of what is fucking wrong with this country: a billionaire who diddled kids got his widdle fee-fees hurt, and he stamped his foot in anger and demanded he get his way, and he got it. They are above the law, an unelected and unchosen ruling class no different from the old British aristocracy, entitled fools with too much money who didn’t give a fuck about anyone other than themselves, while people went hungry and sick and died while they gambled away small fortunes at night while too drunk to see.

And the fact that both Sheeran and Robert Kraft are too privileged to shut up and stop digging their own graves just adds fuel to the fire. Sheeran went along with the silencing and suppression of a voice because it upset a billionaire.

That tells me everything I need to know about the Gingerdoodle.

And that’s it on this subject1–I’ve given too much time and energy to this nonsense already, but this naked abuse of money and power is infuriating to me, and always will be.

Ah, the coffee is now kicking in. I want to get another newsletter finished this weekend, clean out my email inbox, and of course, work on the book some more after I get my work duties done today. Costco and the other errands will undoubtedly wear me out, so I won’t do much tonight when I get home from all of that, other than finishing the laundry which I am starting this morning. I know the new season of The Traitors dropped its first episode last night, and there’s something else starting up again that I like watching, but can’t think of it right now. I also want to read a bit this weekend–which reminds me! The other day I mentioned a copy of The Miracle at St. Bruno’s, and I said there would be more later…and forgot.

The Miracle at St. Bruno’s is a historical Gothic set during the turbulent reign of Henry VIII and the great divorce–and how what was going on at court politically affected those every day citizens who had no control over the ever-changing legality of, well, everything. The Tudors were my real entryway into world history (or rather, modern European history) because Henry VIII was such a fascinating monster. I read a lot of Tudor biographies, but the only historical fiction I had read up to that point was mostly fictionalized biographies–history as entertainment–of royal Tudors. I even read a biography of Lady Margaret Douglas, one of the lesser known but crucial pieces of the Tudor body politic and the very thin line of succession that Tudor sterility caused. Philippa Carr was the by-line on the book, but it was another psuedonym of Eleanor Hibbert, a British writer who also published under the names Victoria Holt and Jean Plaidy. It was vastly different from another other Gothic I’d read, taking place over the course of about thirty to forty years, with the turbulent reigns of successive Tudor vastly differentiating in their religion and policy. It was also the first in a series called Daughters of England, because she wrote about the main character in Miracle’s sequel–each new book a new Gothic romance featuring the daughter of the previous book’s main character–and history and politics are also driving forces in those books as well. I may start a reread this weekend; I need to get back to reading fiction again.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Friday, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Live oak stumps always fascinate and sadden me. The size is impressive, and they are beautiful to look at…but the sadness is from the tree being cut down. Our live oaks are so beautiful here in New Orleans, and we’ve lost so many in the thirty years we’ve lived here.
  1. I do love watching people reap what they’ve sown, you know? ↩︎

Take a Bow

Thursday morning and I got up before my alarm, wide awake and feeling rested. Weird, right? On a THURSDAY last day in the office for the week morning? Madness. Sparky is also being super-affectionate this morning. He keeps wanting to sit on my shoulders, so he can head-butt me and purr up there while I walk around doing things. I don’t mind, I just don’t know why he is some mornings and some mornings he isn’t. Of course it doesn’t make sense because cat, but I can’t help but try to make sense of it, because I ain’t right in the head, you know?

Last night wasn’t bad. I headed uptown to pick up the mail (my copy of The Miracle at St. Bruno’s that I got from ebay, more on that later) and swung by the grocery store to make a few bags. I came home, Sparky needed a lap, and that was the end of that. I watched news and examined my new book–a paperback in pristine condition, like I picked it up off the rack at Zayre like I did my original copy–and watched the news—along with any number of videos ripping Ed Sheeran1 and Robert Kraft new assholes. Paul brought a pizza home for dinner, which was lovely, and we watched LSU-The Difference on ESPN, a documentary series they are filming for this season (think ESPN isn’t all in on LSU? I don’t they are doing one for every top team in the country, and there wasn’t a guarantee LSU would be any good this year, and really, still can’t be sure how good they are anyway at this point). I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home and put everything away, but…I slept very well for the first time this week, and it felt marvelous. I think we’re going to Costco tomorrow after work, too. Huzzah!

I’ve fallen down a wormhole of Internet research thanks to a Facebook friend who shared a post about a “ghost ship” that can be seen under the right conditions on the Tombigbee River in southwest Alabama, the Eliza Battle. The ship was a classic steamboat of the era (which I will always associate–steamboats, that is–with Mark Twain), transporting cotton bales and passengers when a fire broke out in the cotton and the entire ship went up in flames before sinking. I like the idea of a ghost steamboat (I am also partial to steamboats, maybe I should write about that sometime), which could make an interesting story. I love these old folk tales of Southern states, and feel like some of them could be used to write novels or short stories; I’ve been trying to write one about the legend of Freniere and the 1915 Hurricane, which wiped the town out, for years now. Learning Alabama and Louisiana history, legends, and lore is ever so much fun, too!

Has the entire world gone mad? After the Pink meltdown, the Ed Sheeran disaster, and Arch Manning proving he has no home training, I pretty much thought we were done with ignorant celebrity bullshit, but Sarah Paulson decided to say hold my beer and gave an incredibly tone-deaf white woman interview, in which she expressed disappointment that her Black male costars on The People v. O. J. Simpson got movie offers and she didn’t–she was trying to make the point that it’s more difficult for women to get parts in movies because those roles are few and far between for women, whereas male-centered movies are a dime a dozen. It was tone-deaf to make the comparison with two Black actors, who face an entirely but equally horrifying different kind of fight–yes, they are men, but they aren’t white men. And she left out the most obvious reasons producers don’t think about her when they’re casting–girl, you’re an out and proud lesbian. Hollywood is not only misogynist and racist, but it’s also incredibly homophobic. It’s getting better, but there are still an endless amount of problems in that “liberal” community.

Speaking of homophobia, I kind of love that congressional candidate Chris Gallant did, in his pre-politician life, posed in BDSM gear and there are also pictures of him on Fire Island in his underwear. YAWN. He’s running for a House seat on Long Island, is an openly gay former Marine and firefighter…and the only thing his MAGA opponent can come up with is him posing for some sexy pictures that exposed nothing prurient and was in the past…newsflash: most gay men, have sexy photos of themselves, in bathing suits at the very least, and more have nudes than a straight person might realize. I also love that he’s being defiant and refusing to be shamed out of the race. Pictures in BDSM gear doesn’t mean you’re into BDSM, and if you are, who the fuck cares? ANd seriously, the party of MAGA and the buffoon they worship has some fucking nerve trying to morality police anyone. Yo, you’re party leader is a pedophile rapist psychopath. Why don’t you start policing him? Anyway, I donated a little to his campaign.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely, lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning on work-at-home Friday!

  1. I’ve taken to calling him “Gingerdoodle.” ↩︎

Drowned World

And here it is, Tuesday morning, and I feel pretty decent. I slept better last night than I have in a while, which was lovely, and comfy as the bed was this morning, I got up and wasn’t tempted to stay in bed longer than I could or should. Sparky wasn’t too hungry this morning, because he didn’t even come up before the second time I hit snooze. I didn’t do much of anything last night after I got home from work; I should have made groceries (or had some delivered) but it was 100 degrees when I got into the car to come home yesterday afternoon and it just sucked all the life out of me before I put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. Ah, well. I also didn’t do much of anything once I got home, either; I plopped down into my easy chair and Sparky curled up in my lap and that was it for the evening. I caught up on the news, started watching another episode of Scream Queens, which I interrupted when Paul came down to eat and we watched the latest Lanterns. I really love that show; it may be one of the best super-hero TV shows of all time; definitely up there with Agatha All Along, which was amazing.

And while I may not have done any writing yesterday, I did think about what I am writing right now, which is always a good thing, and far better than actually not thinking about it at all. I should be able to get this hellish transitional chapter finished tonight or tomorrow, and then I can move on to the next chapter. And yes, I just remembered I always have problems with Chapter Five. Sigh. It’s amazing how much we forget how painful writing a book can be whenever we start writing another week; helpful selective amnesia, much as how we here in New Orleans forget every year how bad summer can be; every year it’s like a horrific reminder, and the same goes with writing a book, especially when your only deadline is your own, you know? Contractual deadlines are entirely different kind of stress and aggravation, but much as I always worry when I sit down to write that words aren’t going to come, or that I’ll veer away from the story I am telling (it’s easy when your mind wanders as much as mine does), and while I always hate having to cut good writing out of my work because it doesn’t fit, no matter how pretty the language is (“kill your darlings”), sometimes it is necessary. (Right now I am resisting cutting this opening sentence for the chapter: There’s nothing better than a nap after some intense fucking. I love that sentence.)

Ah, my coffee is kicking in and I am feeling pretty good and awake and cheerful now (I know, right? What is wrong with me?) ; we’ll see how the rest of the day goes, shan’t we? We’re not terribly busy in the clinic this morning, so I should be able to get some of the paperwork done that I need to get done around my appointments. My new testing room is taking some getting used to, because I always have had my clients sit to my right when I am testing them; now they are on my right and the entire room is geared to the left instead of the right, which is taking me some getting used to; it’ll probably feel normal to me by the end of this week. Changes of habit aren’t easy when you’ve been doing something almost exactly the same way for twenty years, you know?

The news continues to be grim, and while I see many people being excited about a blue wave, that’s not taking into condition the possibilities that there will again be election shenanigans, or election outcome shenanigans. We’re already well on our way down the path to authoritarianism; it’s now a question of what will be left to rebuilt from once this administration and its un-American treason. (Interesting how the presidencies regarded by historians as the most corrupt in our history always has an R after their name, isn’t it? Grant, Harding, Nixon, Bush II, and now this thing.) I also believe two things about yesterday’s dialing back of AI by the plagiarists who want to make “thinking machines’; one, that the money dried up and it’s all about to crash and take the economy with it, and two, they’ve finally realized they can’t contain it, and that technology, in the wrong hands, is extremely dangerous. (Has no one at all ever watched the original Terminator movie, or Blade Runner, or The 100, or read Dune? Christ, even Azimov killed off all the robots in the universe except for one!)

Oh, I did finish writing a newsletter about Flipper, which is scheduled to go out tomorrow morning. I have to say, I am enjoying myself writing these newsletters, and I am slowly but surely beginning to feel more confidence about writing them, which is a really good thing, methinks. The fiction I’ve been writing at a snail’s pace is also much better than things I’ve done over the last six or seven years–or at least, I feel much better about them. I feel more confident about writing in general, I think; it’s just a matter of reining everything back it and focusing on getting things done.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hope you have a great day, thanks as always for stopping by, and hope to see you again tomorrow.

Those boots? With THAT bandanna? Gurrrrlllll…

Forbidden Love

Saturday morning and there’s football today! LSU plays tonight, in Death Valley as Louisiana Tech drops in for a visit. What will we see tonight as opposed to last week? I guess we’ll wait and see. There are good, interesting games pretty much all day today, too–so I’ll probably have the telvision on while I do things. I did some chores yesterday, but my mind kept wandering. I finished my 9/11 remembrance newsletter, and decided to schedule it for this morning rather than sending it out last night. I’ll share the link here tomorrow, and it’ll wind up on my socials, too. Is that how you say it? I am really terrible at using social media to promote myself.

I didn’t sleep well last night–never went into the deep restful sleep I generally have, so am a little bit rung out. Yesterday was a good day, for all my mind wanderings. I couldn’t stay focused on anything yesterday–not the worst thing in the world–but was able to get some chores done, and the house is looking much better overall this morning, which pleases me. I ran my errands (which included picking up my pre-ordered copy of Laurie R. King’s latest, Those Who Are Gone, and it’s always a delight having the new King on hand) and rested and relaxed for most of the day when I wasn’t cleaning or working on the laundry. I also started watching South Pacific but turned away after a bit when my mind started wandering again–there will definitely be more later–and I found old episodes of Flipper on Youtube (it’s a long story, but more on that later) so I watched the first episode. (It was sadly terrible in an almost comic way.) I also caught up on Real Housewives of Orange County, the worst of the housewives shows, but somehow I still wind up hate-watching.

I decided to give Scream Queens another try, too. We started watching it years ago, but I didn’t enjoy it because I hated both Emma Roberts and Lea Michele with a passion and refused to watch after seeing the pilot, but I don’t mind either so much anymore, so I thought why not give it another try and this time, the humor actually hit, so I am going to keep watching when Paul’s not around, because he doesn’t care to watch it–but he was laughing with me while I watched, but went back upstairs after a little while.

I wasn’t happy to be proven right this week about James Talarico, but his eager willingness to oppress trans people to appease bigots was no surprise to me.. I never trusted him, and if he does make it into the Senate, mark my words–another Sinema or Fetterman, watch and see. The way he allowed his supporters to come for Jasmine Crockett and said nothing while they undermined her as “unelectable” but now are screaming for her to help him win the race. SHe’s held him at arm’s distance since the primary, and now I have to wonder if it was more than “hurt feelings” (as the white leftists who dragged her for filth now “want to unite”–they won’t, but we need to, and am sick of it; I for one will never forgive them for calling me pro-genocide because I was voting for Kamala. Imagine the fucking nerve of some privileged straight asshole in their twenties saying that to a gay man in his sixties who survived the 80s. Fuck them now, fuck them then, and fuck them forever) and if she knew more than she was letting on. He sure threw the trans folk under the bus without a hesitation or a second thought, once it was convenient and he thought it would get him votes. You can never trust a Christian, and until it’s no Christians–it’s all fucking Christians. I do not trust him on marriage equality or any other queer equality measures. He’s not even bothering to pretend anymore. What other progressive stances is he going to walk back now for political expedience?

So much for his “christian” love.

We could have had Jasmine Crockett, and no one will ever convince me that they weren’t racists…because they sure had no problem with dog-whistles and bald-faced lies. I am no fan of Hakeem Jeffries, but when you have leftists basing their attacks in racist language? Miss me forever. You cannot be progressive and racist, period. If you are a bigot, you cannot be progressive. Please note: the leftists also are not condemning those racists, and–they have no interest in marginalized populations, so they’re basically asking us to trade oppressors. I voted Democratic for years, even when they weren’t much better on queer rights than Republicans; but that’s not the case anymore. If leftists can throw a hissy fit during a presidential election and not vote (or voted for Trump), I am going to do the same. I won’t be holding my nose and voting for the lesser of two evils anymore when the lesser keeps spitting in my face and telling me it’s raining.

After all, isn’t this the example the leftists have set for all of us? It’s their way or Armageddon? Good luck getting bigots elected without the Black vote–because they aren’t forgiving you for not voting blue no matter who, especially when you’re saying that to them now. And way to piss on the queer community. I don’t trust that wolf in sheep’s clothing, and never will. He showed us this week who he really is–a lying backstabbing opportunist ready to sacrifice marginalized communities at the drop of a hat for power.

Such a good Christian.

You can never go wrong not trusting a straight white christian man. I’ve certainly found that to be true, over and over again–real Christians are the ones who aren’t trying to convert everyone or preach in the streets, per the New Testament.

Faith without works is dead, and Talarico can go fuck himself with a razor-wire studded vibrator. What Christian kicks a marginalized community in the teeth like this?

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and going on my day. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here in the morning.

Don’t Stop

Midweek already? Time has no meaning to me anymore, really. It’s going to be October long before I’m ready for it. How crazy is that? I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around it being football season already. There are some good games this weekend (LSU is playing Louisiana Tech), like Alabama-Georgia and Oklahoma-Michigan and Ohio State-Texas, and isn’t it early in the season for marquee match-ups like that? I guess the SEC is going to decide this week whether to expel LSU or not; Greg Sankey has never liked having his power questioned. But one thing is for sure: the NCAA started all of this NIL/paying players thing without covering every base, and the most positive outcomes from this will be answering unresolved questions about eligibility. It’s really hard to argue against eligibility for people who signed professional contracts but never played or got paid when they can get paid in college. I thought the mentality behind this whole pay-the-players thing was to encourage playing college for four years…you can’t really tell someone “well, you signed a contract to get paid, which means you can no longer get paid at the collegiate level,” can you? Make it make sense. There needs to be a more clearly defined rule, is all–and if they didn’t think coaches would push their limits, they thought wrong. As a very biased LSU an, I try not to voice opinions about these things when they involve LSU because my instinct is always to defend my team–it feels like someone telling you your dog is ugly–but in removing emotion (or trying to) and only using logic tells me that it’s actually a problem that needs a definitive answer–which everyone seems to be hedging on by turning it into an “LSU problem” when the reality is that decisions should be in the best interests of, I don’t know, the actual players? Actual courts of law inevitably rule against the NCAA, which is why the system is so broken. If they kick LSU out, so be it–but don’t think our governor and attorney general will let that sit, and honestly? Every time Janky Jeff and the Lizard insert their sticky hands into anything, they make everything worse–and they aren’t very smart to begin with; they’re just stupid, lazy, and corrupt with no issues abusing their own petty power. I mean, they sell out their constituents every chance they get, and it really bothers me that they’ll never face any consequences for their abuses of power.

The week already seems off to me, because it’s again a short one. I have to see my doctor on Friday, and I have a meeting that morning. Maybe we’re going to Costco? I don’t know. But the good news is I started writing a short story yesterday for one of these anthology calls I’m interested in; whether I am able to finish it and turn it in on time for consideration is another story (which is why I have so many partial stories in the files; I’ll start writing one for an anthology but not finish it, and then years later I’ll find it, can’t remember why I started it, but will finish it and get it published–this is what happened with “The Sound of Snow Falling”, which is coming out in Unloaded 3 this fall. It’s very creepy, and there’s no corpse. (Well, creepy and disturbing if I make it work the way I want it to; we’ll just have to see, won’t we?

I see that Ben Shelton managed to beat Carlos Alcaraz last night after I went to bed. I’ve not really gotten into the US Open that much this year, but…I love watching good tennis, but I don’t feel connected to any players, other than Carlos, but seeing the rise of so many young Americans on both the men’s and women’s sides is kind of exciting. It’s been a while since we’ve had any Americans on the rise. (Although I do always enjoy watching Novax lose.)

I watched a short video the other day about the murder of Jesse Valencia in Columbia, Missouri (he was a student at the university), and there were so many twists and turns before the murderer was identified–and as always with a gay murder, repression and the closet played a major role in the case. There’s a novel there, but I have to wrap my mind around it to get the story and point of view I would want to use. I have often thought about how dangerous it is to be gay, and how many of us go home from clubs and bars and parties with someone we just met and know nothing about; it’s a wonder more of us aren’t murdered, to be honest. A serial killer, for example, could kill plenty of gay male hook-ups before anyone even noticed–and if he’s hot, they’d never think twice about leaving with him–which, of course, is something I’m exploring in a in-progress novel that may be finished some day.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. It’s even Pay the Bills Day, and I completely forgot until just now. Get your head together, Gregalicious! See you tomorrow!

As good looking and sexy as he is, I always find these “here’s my ass!” poses kind of funny, and always wonder if they’re straight and if they know what the photographer is actually going for….

Human Nature

Labor Day Monday, and another day free from the shackles of my day job. I do like my job, I just don’t like getting up in the morning and going in. Yesterday was yet another heat advisory, so all the gays down in the Quarter were all sweaty and probably stripped down to barely decent (which was always my favorite thing about Southern Decadence). W were supposed to have more rain yesterday, too, which never materialized, either. (We’re supposed to get more today, too, but it’s looking pretty sunny out there beyond the windows.) Yesterday was a very lazy day around here. I didn’t have very much energy and ended up not doing much of anything. I didn’t feel good, either, which was part of it. Lethargic and listless and off, is the best way I can put it. I don’t think I slept well after staying up too late watching the LSU game, which I still am in a little bit of disbelief about. I thought we’d win, but I figured it would be more of a game/challenge than that. I did not have 51-10 on my bingo card, either; that’s the kind of outcome you fantasize about beforehand, only to shake your head and laugh a little bit. (I also see this morning that ESPN has moved LSU up in their rankings to Number 2–a bit of an overreaction, since we have no idea whether Clemson will be 11-1 or 1-11 or somewhere in between yet.)

Yesterday was very lazy around here again, since I didn’t feel good. (I feel much better this morning, honestly, like night and day.) I literally just sat in my easy chair and let Youtube scroll through videos all day while I played on my laptop all day. I can’t even remember anything that I watched! Paul stayed upstairs and worked all afternoon, and didn’t come down to the early evening. I did watch some of the USOpen for a while, but wasn’t really getting into it. But we did watch two episodes of Lanterns, which is really good. Kyle Chandler is great as Hal Jordan, and Aaron Pierre is perfect as John Stewart. I had seen a lot of people on-line upset about Episode 3 being “woke”–as if having a Black Green Lantern wasn’t already woke, and the character has been around for decades, making him vitally important in the history of comics and super-heroes. Get over yourselves, losers. Lanterns is one of the best super-hero shows I’ve seen; hopefully they will continue at this high level. I always liked Green Lantern, becoming more familiar with him through the Green Arrow/Green Lantern team comics, and hated that movie they made with Ryan Reynolds, who was wrong for the part of Hal Jordan, and the script was pretty terrible, too.

As for today, I can either be productive or be lazy or some combination of the two. I am not planning on anything, but I am just going to let the day develop as it usually does, organically, without trying to force anything. Next weekend will be the Saints season opener, so we’ll be watching that and the USOpen finals next Sunday–oh, wait, today isn’t Sunday, is it? I am a little discombobulated, obviously, by this holiday weekend and being so under the weather yesterday. I do feel more rested today than I did yesterday morning, which is very lovely and nice, and maybe–just maybe–my mind will be able to focus enough to read and maybe even do some writing. I know, enough crazy talk.

So, now I am going to get another cup of coffee, make some breakfast, get cleaned up and moving on the day. Hope you have a lovely holiday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here in the morning again before I head into the office. See you then!

Waiting

Guten morgen, Samstag! Hope you’re doing well, Constant Reader, on this first day of the holiday weekend. Today is also the first Saturday of college football, with games on all day. I don’t care about most of them, honestly, but will probably watch Baylor-Auburn this afternoon and of course, LSU-Clemson tonight. I am sure I am going to hear endless commentary on Coach Kiffin and these lawsuits, which is not going to be fun to listen to, especially since there are very few “analysts” on ESPN whose opinions I respect or take seriously. They’re paid to talk, period, and most of the time during games they are just bullshitting with each other about nothing I want to know anything about.

Yesterday was rather chill and lovely, the kind of Friday I truly enjoy. It started off differently–me having to get labs drawn and then go to the office for a meeting, after which I ran errands. I didn’t have nearly enough coffee, and by the time I was finally home and working it was nearly noon, which is too late for me to have more. I also didn’t have lunch until later, but managed to get a nice flow going, with chores and work and so I got more done than I would have thought, and was feeling pretty good and rested most of the day. We watched Venus and Serena play doubles at the US Open, which took care of most of the night. I made Swedish meatballs last night–they were very tasty–but as a result have a messy kitchen this morning, which I’ll have to do something about. But I feel very rested this morning, which is terrific, and I have until 2:30 to do things around here before the Auburn-Baylor game. I need to order some things for delivery, too. I’ll cook out around five-ish for our “tailgate” like I always do, and since there’s football to be watched (reading while the afternoon game is on), I won’t get any writing done. I’ll clean and organize and read while the games are on, and this morning I need to order groceries for delivery. The Saints don’t play until next Sunday, so I imagine we’ll have the US Open on all day Sunday. And of course, there’s also Monday, and a short work week this week.

But it’s somehow September already, with a few more months to go before 2027 rolls around. We also have the midterm election insanity to get through, too. Heavy sigh. I am not optimistic, and I certainly don’t trust polls, and I absolutely do not trust the Heritage Foundation or the Federalist Society, let alone the billionaires and Elon. (And no, I will never forgive any of the people who voted for this. Ever. No sympathy or charity from me, thank you very much, and none of you are taking any responsibility. You absolutely voted for this; if you didn’t see it as clearly as the rest of us, that isn’t our fault. Own up to your bigotry and racism for once in your miserable existences, do self reflection, and maybe–just maybe–I’ll try to forget what fucking ignorant hateful trash you are. Someday, maybe, but certainly not any time soon.)

Meh, this may turn out to be a recharge day and you know, that’s okay, too. I just ordered the groceries to be delivered and am about to get a second cup of coffee (or “joe,” if you want to be hard-boiled about it) and maybe put some bread in the toaster. I also need to wash my face again, and may as well get cleaned up once I finish breakfast and post this. (The play-by-play is fascinating, isn’t it?) Sparky let me sleep past seven this morning, and was lying against me when I woke up like the sweet boy he is. I don’t want to clean up this kitchen, but I can’t really do anything in here until I do. Maybe the toast and second cup will finish the job of waking me up and making me lively. It’s not that I don’t have energy this morning, I’m just not having a lot of luck summoning it up at the moment, hee hee. (This, by the way, is why I call myself lazy–instead of getting to work I just laze around instead of doing anything productive and make excuses for it. (I may have the anxiety under control, more or less, now–but my brain still clearly has a lot of issues.)

And on that note, I am going to finish my toast and second cup and am about to head to my easy chair for a few moments, and I’ll probably read for a bit. The groceries will be here between 12 and 2, and I can get a lot done before then, methinks. Or not. We’ll see. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again in the morning.

It’s amazing how many muscle groups he had to engage to take that shirt off, isn’t it?