Category: research

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/

Since I Held You

Here we are on a chilly Tuesday morning, after reality’s bitch slap yesterday, but I jest, really; it was very pleasant feeling rested mentally and physically, and it was a pretty good day overall, methinks. I felt good most of the day, my breakfast and lunch were marvelous, and I was also able to leave a bit early to beat traffic, which was also lovely. I do not miss the humidity. If we could have the heat with a bit less humidity, that would make an enormous and great improvement on our summers. It’s also nice to be waking up in my bed under a pile of blankets on a chilly morning, with a hungry cat nuzzling me to get up and feed him.

I sent out a newsletter yesterday finally, about the movie Gaslight, which I watched with my dad last week (you can click here to read it, if you like). We also watched Beat the Devil, which didn’t move me to write about it; it’s not one of Humphrey Bogart’s best, despite an excellent cast including Jennifer Jones, Robert Morley, and Gina Lollobrigida. While Gaslight may not technically be a horror film, what else would you call a plot that involves a husband trying to drive his wife insane? I also think the Gothic trope of “is my husband trying to kill me?” pushes them into the horror realm; what is more horrible than marrying someone who wants to kill you? And no one believes you? I remember reading an article a long time ago that said that one of the biggest fears shared by most Americans is wrongful imprisonment, which was taken to mean not just prison, but being locked up in a mental hospital when you don’t belong there or being forced into rehab. The fear also has the corollary of not being believed, and as someone who has been accused of doing something wrong that I didn’t do–and wasn’t believed–is a fucking nightmare.1

I came straight home after work, no stops or errands, and did some more chores once I got home and plopped down into my easy chair. Paul got home later, and we watched another episode of The Diplomat, which is most excellent, and they just added Jodie Whittaker, whom I love, to the cast as the new British Prime Minister. I slept well last night, and feel relaxed still this morning, which is nice. It sucks when you cannot sleep well, and that last week before I left I most definitely was having sleeping issues, and I am not sure why that happened. I also spent some digging out from under the massive emails I’d accumulated while I was gone, and yes, I know I still owe some replies to people, which I am hoping to get to today. I also have text messages to reply to–the bane of coming back from a wireless blackout is having to clean up everything that was let go for the duration–but I managed to get everything caught up at the office that had been let slide during my absence; the least fun part of vacation is catching up on everything that accumulated. I am also enjoying this cool weather, that seems to not be a false autumn but our actual fall–yes, when seventies are the high during the day but sixties at night is fall in New Orleans; colder than that is what we consider winter. I forgot to turn the dishwasher overnight, so will turn it on right as I leave…then I can unload it tonight when I get home. There’s also a load of laundry I need to do tonight, too. I worked on another newsletter (two actually; books I’ve recently read), and tonight when I get home it’s time to get caught up on the Housewives. I also need to make a Costco list, since we are going to go Friday afternoon after work.

The banality of every day life can be a boon sometimes rather than a bane, methinks.

In my random dive through the Internet yesterday I discovered two more interesting things about Louisiana: one, that Decatur Street used to be called “Vendetta Alley” because of all the shootings and knife fights back in the day (and doesn’t that make a great title for a noir?); and Watson Break, another indigenous mound city in Louisiana, to go along with Poverty Point. I am always learning new things about New Orleans and Louisiana’s history, which is fun but a constant reminder of how little I know about both–which begs the lie that I am somehow an expert on all things New Orleans. Trust me, I am not.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Tuesday full of tacos, if that’s your jam, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow bright and early. Till then!

Back in my bar-slut days, I had a pair of white jean Daisy Dukes much shorter than the ones above.
  1. Not being believed is a key component of Gothic suspense. ↩︎

You’re All I’ve Got Tonight

Sunday morning and driving north in a few hours. I still haven’t packed, because I was ridiculoualy lethargic and low energy. I had slept well Friday night, so I wasn’t physically tired, but I had little to no motivation to do much of anything other than have some things delivered for Paul. My current plan is to leave here around eleven, which gives me a leisurely morning with no pressure on me so I don’t need to rush, nor do I need to worry about forgetting anything. I also need to check the weather in Kentucky so I am not wearing T-shirts in cold weather.

It was a strange day of college football, with LSU, Alabama, and Texas all losing; I think Georgia may be the only undefeated team left in the SEC. LSU played terribly, and still only lost by one point in overtime, so while the loss was disappointing, they were at least in it until the very end. I was cautiously optimistic, as always, about how they’d do this season, but I wasn’t thinking in terms of championships this year. Yes, that would have been lovely had it been the case, but I’m not one of those people who think after a couple of wins “oh here we go!” Brian Kelly decimated the program rather than rebuilding it, and not many coaches are the kind of miracle worker who can turn a team around in one season. You want to know how lethargic I was yesterday? I got bored during the Red River Rivalry and watched news reports for a bit–and it was another down to the last second thriller of a game. I kept thinking Texas would pull it out, but Oklahoma would not be denied; just as Kentucky would not last night. Missouri also embarrassed Texas A&M and South Carolina exposed Florida’s woes even more; how on earth did they beat Mississippi so bad? It’s a weird year in the Southeastern Conference, I guess.

It looks like it’s going to be another beautiful day–it was very nice and cool yesterday, but sunny and very windy. A good day for a drive north, looks like; no rain or flood warnings or anything along the route, which is a good thing. I wish I’d had the energy and motivation to have packed last night–packing is something I have always hated, the worst part of a trip, usually, if airports aren’t involved–but I don’t mind driving, and again–I have Peter Straub’s Shadowland queued up on my Audible. I am taking The Dead Zone, the paperback of Shadowland in case I don’t finish it in the car, The House That Horror Built, and the new Tananarive Due, Mazywood, with me to read while I am up there; I’m also taking some fiction files with me–for just in case. I generally don’t have much time on these trips to do much besides read, but one never knows and if anything, I am always a firm believer in being prepared…and I always want things to work on that I don’t have with me, which is how that shit always works. I also don’t know if or when I’ll be back here again; probably not till Saturday, but stranger things have happened. I’m also not spending as much time in Alabama this time, either, so I probably won’t get around to seeing much of the county other than tomorrow morning when we go to the graveyard. I have been thinking creatively about the county lately, too…I have an idea for a horror story set there.

SO, I am thinking this will probably be a much need down time week, where my brain can mostly relax and my body rest, and then next weekend I can chill, get over the drive home and clean Saturday, and then figure out what I need to get done that following week. I keep forgetting that after I get back, there are two full weeks of October left–I keep thinking the month will be almost over when I am home again, but it’s not. I have three weeks to revise and rework that story that’s due on Halloween, which is again reminding me how much deadlines are the bane of my existence. But one thing is for sure, I am out of the habit of writing five days a week and that needs to seriously change.

Interesting that I always used to complain about not having time to write…and now that I do, I don’t use it.

And that sounds like the proper sad note to end this on; I need to get cleaned up and pick up around here and make a list of what I need to take with me on this trip., and get moving. Not sure when I’ll be back, but I know you can push through my absence, Constant Reader; I have faith in you!

Just What I Needed

Thursday, with Isiais still loping along out there in the Gulf (of MEXICO). Last time I looked, we here in New Orleans are out of the danger zone, or so it seems. I’ve not yet checked this morning, but before I went to bed it was heading in more of a between-Mobile-and-Pensacola landfall, continuing north. As long as I leave New Orleans by one-ish, I should be able to miss any outer bands spinning our way. It will be weird to be in a massive thunderstorm up there in a motel, but probably pretty cozy. OKay, I checked and yes, New Orleans is outside of the cone completely, with that landfall still even further east a bit this morning. The storm won’t get up to where we’re staying until Saturday night, which should make the Georgia-Alabama game messy, to say the least. Should at least be interesting…I also wonder if the storm has changed Palpatine the Incompetent’s mind about attending; every home team he sees play loses, so Bama fans best hope their foul god changes his mind about going.

I finally slept well last night and feel rested and good this morning, at least for the moment. I was very tired yesterday when I got off work, but did manage to run an errand and do some chores when I got home. Tonight I’ll need to start packing for tomorrow–I can’t believe it’s tomorrow already–so hopefully I’ll have a good night’s sleep tonight as well. I got some of the things done on my list that needed to be done before I leave, which was cool–hopefully today I’ll be able to do the same again–and leave town with a clear conscience. Shadowlands is queued up on my Spotify to listen to, and I am going to take some things with me to write/work on while I’m gone, so we can see how that all works out, too. I’m coming back next Friday, so I’ll be gone a week–and pretty much out of pocket for that time; not even sure that I’ll be able to keep this up while I am gone. Maybe I can also get some newsletters out; stranger things have happened.

It is so amazing what a good night’s sleep will do. I feel so good this morning! It may not last of course; sometimes it works out that way. Usually I am already tired going into the work day, but after having restless sleep most of the week, sleeping well made a huge difference. Good thing, because I need to be productive today, both at home and at work. I have to run errands after work tonight, and may have one to run on my way out of town tomorrow morning. I’ve got a list of things to get Paul to eat during my absence, and of course, I don’t want to leave behind a messy apartment to come home to, which always kind of sucks. I also want to do some more editing work before I leave, and work on a short story. We watched another episode of Neagley last night, which was amazing; maybe we can finish it tonight before I leave. We also still haven’t watched the finale of Lanterns yet, which is also amazing; we got so caught up in Neagley that we don’t really want to watch much of anything else until it’s done.

Sigh. I am going to take a lot of stuff with me on this trip, only to end up not doing any of it, aren’t I? But…better to have it with me in case I want to work on it. If I don’t take it, I’ll want to; if I do take it, I won’t. I am also probably packing too many books to take with me, too. I’m not sure what all we’re going to get up to while I’m in Kentucky, but generally I end up not having a lot of time until after eight-ish or so to do anything with; but I should be able to get some of my horror reading out of the way, at the least. I’ll probably finish Shadowlands in the car on the way up, and will probably pick out another horror to listen to on the way home; there’s a few more books in Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield series, which I absolutely love. And I still have to rewatch A Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time since I first saw it back in college.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, heat up my breakfast sandwich, and head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow before I hit the road.

The St. Roch chapel supposedly helps cure the disabled, who then leave their prosthetics behind….

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

Good Times Roll

Sunday morning and rather gray out there this morning as I swill coffee and battle Sparky for my desk chair (he’s sprawled across my desk playing with things on it, in full attack and knocking things off to the floor mode). My shoulder still aches and I do feel a bit inside-out this morning, but much better than I did yesterday. I slept deeply and well last night, too–a side effect of the shots, perhaps?

It started raining yesterday morning as I headed uptown to get my flu shot and my next COVID vaccination, and it was pouring by the time I got home. I felt a bit underwhelmed after I got inside–the way I’m usually mildly feverish and dramatically lethargic whenever I get the shots. My shoulder was also sore, and as it rained pretty much the entire (our flash flood warning flashed across the screen just before five), it felt chilly and damp inside, which also makes me just want to huddle up under a blanket. I figured since the day of the shots is always a lost day (anything I may get done is a bonus to be proud of), what better day to have such a day as a college football Saturday? That way I’m guaranteed easy entertainment all day with very little effort on my part. I didn’t have anything delivered because it seemed like a shitty thing to do–make people go out in this weather, but then again, they’re out there because they need to be, which makes it even shittier, and around and around the moral question goes–but it was coming down so consistently I didn’t want to walk to the gate to get anything, either. I also decided the trash could wait until I won’t get drenched…but the day wasn’t a total loss: there were good games on all day (more on that later), and I did get the kitchen under control again–the previous few days I’d let it slide a bit.

LSU made mincemeat out of McNeese State (63-14) last night, which was nice to watch leisurely. It was a crazy day in college football, with strange outcomes and so forth, and no way of knowing how good anyone is. Minnesota beat Michigan yesterday for the first time since I was a senior in high school (1977), which was wild as hell, and maybe the most interesting game of the morning. But seriously, what the hell, SEC? Missouri embarrasses Florida a week after losing to Mississippi State and Florida humiliated Ole Miss; Alabama blew out Mississippi State, and Kentucky–two weeks after embarrassing Texas A&M in College Station, looked terrible against the South Carolina team Missouri and Alabama have already destroyed at first, before bouncing back with an overtime one-point win.. How does any of this make sense? So far, it looks like (to me, anyway) that once again Georgia and Alabama are the best teams in the league; Texas is also undefeated but I don’t think they’ll beat either. Auburn lost to Tennessee, but it was a good game at least. Miami also blew out Clemson last night, so….maybe LSU is as good as Miami? Like I said, it’s too early to tell this season who is going to the playoffs and who is not. Northwestern also applied belt to ass to Penn State. Good thing they fired their coach midseason last year, right?

It looks like it’s going to be gloomy with off-and-on rain all day, with the flooding storms coming later this afternoon, so any deliveries have to be here by four, something I will look into once I post this and move over to the easy chair with the laptop. I did start writing some things yesterday, which was nice, considering how discombobulated and off I felt. I dug through my last three journals looking for the start of said short story yesterday, and I guess I didn’t write it down, but I remember it. It’s set in the late 1970s in a small Kansas college town, and starts with a girl witnessing an attack from her dorm window on a Saturday night–it’s for the no-corpse anthology due later this year–but I am not sure how I can end it just yet. My mind, despite my spaciness yesterday (and the tired legs this morning), was being fertile and creative somehow through all of that, and I do have another story I started percolating up there in my head. I have some things I need to do, and some emails to answer, and I really do need to start getting organized as the last quarter of the year is now here.

This whole Cornell thing has women up in arms, and rightly so. I personally think the MEN who did this–and it was clearly not the first nor the last time–should be chemically, if not physically, castrated1. There is no excuse and no way out of this, no way to justify any of it, and the victim-blaming is not flying this time. This societal reckoning is way overdue, and yes, I absolutely one hundred percent believe they did this, thought nothing of it because women are just living sex toys and sperm depositories to so many of them, and yes, it’s definitely a pack mentality.

And on that note, I am going to let this whiny cat have my desk chair and I am moving to my easy chair. May you have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

An abandoned bridge in the woods in Alabama. Rather evocative, isn’t it?
  1. Including all the professional adults who failed everyone here. ↩︎

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. ↩︎

Runaway Lover

Thursday and it’s not my last day in the office for the week; I have a department meeting tomorrow that I need to come in for. I may stay for a few hours after and do some work here, but on the other hand I may just get back in the car and head home. I guess we’ll see how I feel, but it would be incredibly convenient to get all my errands out of the way. We’re supposed to start getting rain from Polo tomorrow, and continue with flooding rains all weekend…so I am not going to want to leave the house that often. I do have to go get my vaccines Saturday morning–I figured if they make me woozy again like they always do, it’s better to be home. LSU’s game is against McNeese State Saturday night–their fifth night game in a row–and I think a lot of the other games this season will be at night again. All the media alarm bells after the Mississippi loss subsided with the trouncing of Texas A&M last week, but…the remaining schedule remains brutal.

Well, Sparky closed my browser for me (thanks, babe!) and I lost three paragraphs of this entry which I will now try to reconstruct. Sigh.

I was tired when I got home from work yesterday, Sparky was needy, and I just needed to sit for a minute last night before doing anything, but I got sucked into the news–both national and football–and several wormholes (is it just me, but are Youtube videos becoming more and more AI-generated?) opened up for me before I switched over to this HBO documentary series about Warner Brothers–and old Hollywood stuff always works as research for the book. I went to bed shortly after that, and didn’t do a damned bit of chores at all. The apartment is still pretty well kept-up, but there’s some cosmetic cleaning that needs doing, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and reloaded again, and there’s another load of laundry that needs doing, too. I’ll have to take care of some of that tonight so this weekend I can primarily focus on writing and deeper cleaning issues (baseboards, etc.). The house is also currently being painted, so much as I would like to go outside in this cooler clime to clean the windows…probably not going to happen until the house is finished being painted. (I have to negotiate an obstacle course most days when I get home to get into the house.)

Today is also the first day of Halloween Horror Month, in which I try to make sure all my reading and streaming needs are horror-related. I know I am going to revisit Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street–always excellent choices–and it’s always fun to dip into horror, which I need to read more of. I am going to listen to Shadowland by Peter Straub on my trip next Friday to Alabama/Kentucky–can you believe it’s next week already? I can’t–and will take some other horror along to read while I am up there. I am going to start reading The House That Horror Built, and I think on the way home i may listen to a Grady Hendrix novel.

I also need to get back to writing, either on short stories or on the book. I’ve been focusing a lot on writing nonfiction–the newsletters–and while I have really been enjoying doing that (and my writing is improving, which is always a delightful thing), I need to get back on the fiction horse. I’ve kind of been letting my creativity recharge, after finishing that story last weekend, but I definitely need to be climbing back into the saddle again. Maybe tomorrow, during the rains. We’re supposed to get up to five inches over the next few days–but we shouldn’t have any flooding concerns if the rain is spread out. Five inches in two hours or less and the city is underwater.

And on that note, methinks I shall head into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely Friday Eve, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before my meeting. See you then!

My God, Alan Ritchson is just ridiculously handsome.

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? ↩︎