Tag: Love

Wagon Wheel

Looks like Wednesday Pay-the-Bills Day has rolled around again, woo-hoo! Apparently another cold front is swooping down on us from the frozen north; temperatures dipping down into the forties (!!!!) this weekend. The meteorologists are also saying we’re done with temperatures in the 80s until spring–but I am not holding my breath on that one. New Orleans weather always has a habit of making forecasters look foolish because, well, it’s New Orleans weather. It snowed earlier this year, for example.1 But I am actually enjoying this respite from the heat and humidity, and I am sleeping like a stone every night since the weather changed, which is delightful. Even the time change wasn’t as disruptive as it usually is–although last night I fell asleep in my chair around eight-ish, which used to be nine-ish. But I don’t mind. I didn’t get much done when I got home from work yesterday, because I was feeling tired, and Sparky was feeling needy. I did run some errands on the way home, getting the mail and picking up prescriptions (two more will be ready for pick-up today, I think), but once I was home, I didn’t really do a lot of anything. I was on edge a bit about yesterday’s elections, but checked the news before going to bed and saw that the Reich Wing was getting trounced everywhere–so much for MAGA’s popularity–and was even more delighted to see this morning that those results held. Three seats in Mississippi’s state house flipped Democratic, too–in Mississippi. MISSISSIPPI. Think about that for a moment…and what it implies about the midterms. I’m feeling hopeful, at least for this morning at any rate.

Darth Cheney died, and there was a massive blue wave. Who could ask for anything more? If voters are this angry with MAGA now, imagine how the midterms could go. What a lovely way for November to start, am I right?

Today is going to be a busy one at work. Our nurse is out, and it’s just me in the clinic today. Undoubtedly I will be exhausted when I get home tonight, but I also decided last night to go back and finish reading The Hunting Wives (which was interrupted by Halloween Horror Month), since I was only a chapter into the Scott Carson. I will be rejiggering my reading schedule and what is up next over the next few days. I do need to get caught up a bit on my Donna Andrews, so I can listen to one of her Christmas mysteries on the way up to Kentucky later this month for Thanksgiving. I am not dreading that drive as much as I usually do, and I suppose this is the first major test of the recovery, isn’t it? Twelve hours in a car? But the key is to take my time and not get stressed about anything, and I may even try going a different way–through Nashville and up the Cumberland Parkway. Anything to avoid Chatta-fucking-nooga. I’ll drive home the old way, most likely, but it’s not a bad thing to shake things up a little bit, is it?

I did watch some more Appalachian lore videos last night, which are always fun and inspiring. I started thinking about the next Scotty last night–trying to land on a title and a time of the year, leaning towards Halloween Party Hijinks–which is also kind of fun. I have no idea what the plot of that would be, but I always have to have the title and the time of the year first. Does it make any sense? Not in the least, but I am extremely different from every other writer out there; not better nor worse, just different when it comes to writing and the writing process. I want to work some more on my novella tonight, too. So far, tomorrow looks like a very easy day in the clinic, despite again not having a nurse and working the schedule entirely on my own, which will wear me out for sure.

Oh, and People named Jonathan Bailey as the first openly gay Sexiest Man Alive. Yesterday was a very good day, wasn’t it? To be fair, he definitely is one of the sexiest men alive, and it’s not something that I ever pay that much attention to–the last one I remember was the joke selection of Blake Shelton (bitch, please) and that was nearly ten years ago–but this is landmark, and also a bitch-slap to the mouth-breathing haters. I’m actually surprised President Stillson hasn’t whined about never being picked for this…

And on that note, I should pay some bills before I head into the office.

Have a lovely mid-week Wednesday, and I will be back tomorrow morning for sure, for sure.

  1. The snow days, and the novelty of snow, was fun…but not something I want to experience all the time. ↩︎

You’re the Reason Our Kids Are Ugly

You can always count on country music for great titles, you know? “Drop Kick Me Jesus (Through the Goalposts of Life)” remains an all-time favorite title for anything, really. But it’s Sunday morning of the time change, I got to sleep a bit more than usual, and I am feeling pretty good this morning. Paul was worn out from working on a grant into the wee hours of the morning yesterday, so we didn’t run any errands yesterday. I cleaned and organized for the most part–it was so lovely coming downstairs to a very clean and neat and orderly kitchen–and worked on filing and so forth. I decided to just give my brain the day off and not worry about either reading or writing anything or pressuring myself into something out of guilt, and it was kind of nice and relaxing.

I did watch some football games yesterday–well, had them on while I was doing other things, at any rate. The games I had on yesterday were Vanderbilt-Texas, Oklahoma-Tennessee, and Georgia-Florida. No one I was rooting for in any of these games won, and it was particularly galling to root for Tennessee and Florida1 (both of whom I despise), only to have them lose. They were all good games that kind of came down to the wire, and I was really hoping that Vandy would finish their comeback; they came soooo close. I’m rooting for them to go to the playoffs, to be honest; I almost always will root for an underdog program like theirs to shine when it gets a chance, you know? It’s also not being vested in the season anymore, too; now I can just kind of watch from a remote distant and make observations.

What I did do for the most part yesterday, as far as intellectual stimulation is concerned, was revisit The Haunting of Hill House a bit as I worked on my newsletter about the book and why I love it so much. It is such an extraordinary piece of writing, with so much left vague and uncertain that it’s very easy for the reader to fill in the blanks and interpret the story and the characters in their own way–and it’s also possible to read it very differently every time you read it, gleaning new thoughts and interpretations with each reread (like Rebecca, which also should be taught). I’m hoping to get it finished and posted either today or tomorrow, as part of Halloween Horror Month’s last gasp, which also includes reading another horror novel, too. (Finishing the one I started–the Scott Carson–before returning to The Hunting Wives and moving forward from there.) And props to me, he typed modestly, for really sticking with HHM and focusing on it. I had also wanted to rewatch Scream 2 and A Nightmare on Elm Street to talk about; I even thought about rewatching the original Halloween again, so I could write about all of them…but I managed to do most of the things I wanted to do for it, so it’s a win that I am feeling pleased on this chilly Sunday November morning.

And isn’t that mentally healthy? Before anxiety medication I would be bashing myself and feeling like a lazy loser, which has always been a self-perpetuating thing for me anyway. I consider that excellent progress, and by accepting it as a victory rather than as a loss, maybe I can start being a little kinder with myself. I would always set the bar for myself so damned high that it would be impossible for 99% of people to clear, let alone me, so I could berate myself and go through the entire “you’re such a lazy loser” cycle of mental self-abuse, including such treasured gems of self-defeat like this is why you never get anywhere or way to prove all those awful people right and on it goes, spiraling down into the Pit of Despair.

I really hate the Pit of Despair, and never, ever want to go back there.

We also watched this week’s The Morning Show, which was interesting and good (during the second half of the Tennessee game), and probably this evening will watch some more of our shows and possibly the Jurassic World movie we never got around the seeing in the theater this summer as well as our other shows, including The Diplomat, which is most excellent.

I’ve not commented on the weirdness between the couch-fucker and the the non-grieving, grifting widow in pleather pants so tight she must have gotten a yeast infection, mainly because the unholy alliance everyone is predicting developing on social media doesn’t interest me in the least. Yes, people grieve differently, but if there was an actual investigation into the gum-challenged one’s murder, she would be suspect number one; how many times have we seen someone convicted incorrectly because they didn’t grieve their spouse/children the way everyone thinks they should? I know one thing; if Paul was murdered, there would be no pyrotechnics and high production values for his funeral, and I wouldn’t be getting groped on national television mere months afterward. But sure, it’s same-sex marriage that is unnatural, right? My dad is still not over my mother, and it’s been almost three years.

Then again, Dad loved Mom. Not judging the Widow, mind you, but I do find it strange, but MAGA evangelicals are strange. Imagine if the Widow were Hillary Clinton, and what MAGA would say about her in this situation.

And on that note, I have some filing and reading to do. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning before I head into the office.

  1. I did see that Auburn somehow lost to Kentucky; which should be the obituary for Hugh Freeze’s career there. Glad I didn’t watch that. ↩︎

Goo Goo Muck

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday! Another good night’s sleep, another morning of not wanting to get out of the warm and oh-so-comfy bed. I was tired yesterday when I got home from work, and thus didn’t get much of anything done other than cuddling with Sparky and catching up on the news, which is always exhausting and tiring. I did also get to go to bed early last night, too–maybe I should start going to bed at nine instead of between nine-thirty and ten; I certainly fall asleep in my chair well before that.

There’s a new storm in the gulf (Caribbean Sea, actually) formed and no one seems to know where it was going to go–which is always a lovely thing for late October. Her name this time is Michelle, and again it’s very weird to have a hurricane formed and sitting down there off Venezuela when I had my editorial call about Hurricane Season Hustle. My editor loved the book, which is always lovely, and there’s very little for me to do as far as revisions and edits, which is super-nice. The experience of writing this book wasn’t a pleasant one, but it really didn’t have anything to do with the actual writing of the book but everything that went on while I was writing the book. This has colored how I feel about the book, honestly, which is yet another example of why an editor is necessary. But I am very happy it is almost done and out of my hands, and it’s been a hot minute since I had a novel come out….and this is a February 2026 release date. Huzzah!

And now I need to start getting ready to push my way through the next one I want to write, which, at long last, is Chlorine, and I am very excited at finally being able to sink my teeth into this one. I am thinking about doing another Scotty next year, and maybe even a new Chanse (long shot) for the year that series, now ended, turns 25. Twenty-five. The Scotty series turns 25 in 2028…yikes, you know? Of course I don’t want to think about how old I will be on those momentous occasions…oh, that’s a lie. I don’t care that I’m old and getting older every day. I only think of it in the terms of wow that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

I’ve also been learning that I need to be more careful with my words and shouldn’t use some as interchangeably as I always, flippantly, have done. For one example, I’m used to using tired as a catch-all for everything; but there are differences between the feelings that tired doesn’t really adequately convey what I am feeling. This morning, I feel a bit sleepy physically; I’m not tired or fatigued, but like part of my body still hasn’t completely woken up yet. My mind is firing on every cylinder. So, I am trying to use fatigue because it’s more accurate than saying tired; brain fog for that horrible mental feeling; and sleepy for “want to go to, or back to, bed.” You’d think a writer would always be careful with their words, but me? Not so much. I am trying to be better about that, though.

I am loving this low 80’s daytime/mid-60’s at night weather, and it’s going to dip even more next week–going into the low 70’s and mid-50s at night. Hurray for a lower power bill! And next Friday is Halloween! How has that happened already? Heavy sigh. It’s been a rough year, so I probably should be happier that it went by so fast.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will see you in the morning on “last day in the office Thursday for the week.”

I love the juxtaposition between the ancient temple and the modern architecture.

Father Figure

Tuesday morning as I get back into the swing of my reality again. Yesterday was an easy way to slip back into the work grind, and I was tired most of the day. I was very tired by the time I got home from work and errands and things, collapsing into my chair and bingeing more of Boots, which we are really enjoying before retiring pretty early. I had hoped to get some more things done around the apartment, but I can only do what I am capable of doing, you know? It’s still going to take a bit longer for me to get reacclimated, and that’s perfectly fine. I can only do what I can, right? I also need to stop berating myself for being a little wobbly when I get back on the bicycle of my reality.

One of the goals for 2025 was to be kinder to myself–and I am constantly having to remind myself of that very thing. My default is to always take the blame, or to be self-critical, and that’s a cycle from childhood that I need to break. I also cannot believe how quickly this month has passed. What the hell? How is tomorrow the 15th already again? Heavy heaving sigh.

I’ve been thinking I might start trying to listen to audiobooks in the car while I run around doing errands and driving to and from work. I’m never in the car for very long, which is why I’m thinking it may not work–it could take weeks to completely listen to a book all the way through this way–but I could also listen while I take walks. I’d just need to get earphones with a connecting wire; I refuse to sell pints of blood so I can afford ear pods, which I would lose. And since the weather is now cooling down, going for walks in the evening and in the morning might not be a bad thing; and an easy way to start getting my endurance back after this hellish decade for me, health-wise. Although I suppose at my age, my health now is really about the time between illnesses and surgeries. Heavy sigh.

And yes, you can still get wired headphones for iPhones. I checked.

I’m also getting caught up on my day job stuff, and perhaps by the end of the day I can triumphantly shout from the rooftops that I am finally current on those duties. Huzzah! LSU plays at Vanderbilt this weekend, and the game is at 11. YIKES. I hate early games, and the Tigers also tend to not play as well early. Vanderbilt is a good team again this year, and we don’t know if LSU is actually a good team or not. I guess we’ll find out early Saturday morning, but at least the game will be out of the way early and the games the rest of the day won’t matter as much whether I pay attention or not, which means a good time for cleaning the apartment.

I also need to start going through the calls for submission that I’ve bookmarked as interesting ideas for me to try for. The entire time I was in Alabama, I was thinking about a novella-in-progress I have that I would like to get finished…yes, another Alabama story.

And I need to start cleaning out the storage attic. That shit’s not going to empty itself out, is it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again tomorrow. I am off to make a to-do list!

I’ve always been fascinated by Baron Samedi

Born This Way

Saturday and my first day officially being on vacation! I feel pretty good this morning. My sleep was most excellent last night, and this morning I am even up before eight! I have a lot to do today, and while it is very daunting, there’s no LSU game today so I may not even wake the television up, let alone put games on. But I feel no stress or anxiety (thank you, not-so-new-anymore medications), and I feel very confident I’ll be able to get this all done by Monday afternoon. Huzzah? Huzzah! I don’t even hate the book, nor am I sick of it–an interesting turn of events, is it not?

We did make it to Costco after I finished working for the day, and ran some other errands. My copies of Double-Crossing Van Dine, an anthology I have a co-editor credit for, also arrived and the book is quite lovely. I’m looking forward to reading it, along with the other anthologies I have a story in that have come out lately. I also cleaned up around here a bit, so it’s not horrible this morning in the apartment. Note to self: if you can do chores on a weeknight, do them. It means less cleaning on the weekend, and that is definitely a plus.

The new Taylor Swift album dropped yesterday, so we listened to it in the car as we ran our errands and I liked it a lot. I saw on-line that there were criticisms of the album from the Swifties and the critics, but..what can I say? I liked it. I need to listen to it again when I can actually focus on listening to it; maybe I can do that on Tuesday once the book is over and done and turned in. But I certainly didn’t think it was terrible, either, or lame or any of the other things I saw on-line. It was inevitable that people would turn on her, I suppose, now that she’s happy and in-love and getting married and super-successful, and MAGA already hated her. Ah, well. She can always lock herself and Travis in their money vault and laugh all the way to the bank.

A new development came to light in the Kyren Lacy case. A former LSU star wide receiver (he was so fun to watch play), he was accused of causing an accident that killed someone in Lafourche Parish–and was charged with multiple counts. The day before his grand jury hearing, he killed himself. The news media was relentless in hounding him, as was the general public. Thing was, he didn’t cause the accident, he was innocent, and the fucking white bitch who blamed him to the cops (it was her fault, of course, may she burn in eternal hell. My guess is she won’t even be charged with anything, because Lafourche fucking parish) who of course told the white woman tears as gospel. I hope his family sues the fuck out of the Lafourche Parish sheriff’s department. “Loss of future income” will be enormous, because he went pro and signed for a shit ton of money.

Yes, racism is alive and well and completely healthy in southeastern Louisiana. Bet the Lafourche sheriffs thought he was “uppity” and “got above himself” and “needed to be put back in his place and know that white people always will matter more.”

Seriously–all you racists so terrified of Black people: if Black people were everything you say they are, they would have justifiably killed us all in our beds long ago.

I suppose my own marginalized status in this country has made me more empathetic and sympathetic to anyone and everyone who is not in the “dominant” culture. It really is staggering to realize how sociopathic so many white people are.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back with a status update tomorrow morning.

The Planet Earth Rock and Roll Orchestra

Work at home Friday, and all is peaceful in the Lost Apartment this morning. Huzzah? I think this is a definite huzzah. I have a department meeting later this morning (online) and a lot of quality assurance to get done before I get to dive back into the book as we enter into the home stretch. Isn’t it exciting? I need to be finished by close of business EST Monday, and I worry that I may need every minute of that time. But there’s nothing else to do but get to work on it, is there? I think we’re also going to run to Costco after I am done working, too. It’s going to be quite the busy day for me.

The independent autopsy of Trey Reed, the young Delta State student found hanging not so long ago, concluded the cause of death was actually blunt force trauma, not hanging, which makes it murder, not suicide. Anyone surprised the cops and legal system in Mississippi covered up the murder of a Black college student? I certainly wasn’t, and anyone who believed those initial findings–the cops determined it was a suicide immediately, and didn’t bother looking for anything else–is a fucking racist and moron. When it comes to anyone who isn’t white or straight in the South, authority simply can’t be bothered. It may NOT be racism; it could just be sheer laziness and incompetence, but forget it, Jake–it’s Mississippi.

And thank you, Colin Kaerpernick, for your foundation’s work and paying for the independent autopsy so his family can try to seek what passes for justice in that wretched state. (There’s an entire essay to be written about Kaerpernick and the NFL’s selective and unbalanced and unfair approach to protest and political speech, but I am also sure any number of Black writers have done so already, and also have done exceptional work on the topic making anything I could write or say overly simplistic and from too privileged a perspective to do much good for anyone.)

Yesterday was a good day for the most part but I was terribly exhausted when I got home, and wasn’t really able to do much of anything once I was here. I’d already done most of the chores on Wednesday night so there wasn’t much to do last night, and over the weekend I can do the odds and ends that are left to be done. I caught up on the news–the Theo Von break with MAGA was an interesting turn (the rise of reality show performers into the political arena is also something that needs to be written about, if for no other reason than to warn future voters about the dangers of celebrity politicians, no matter how minor the celebrity may have been). Theo is from the North Shore of Louisiana, and he used to work out at my sorely missed gym around the corner (nice body, aging into redneck face). I watched one of his stand-up specials a while back, out of curiosity; I turned it off ten minutes in because I hadn’t even cracked a smile once. Next thing I knew, he’s a podcaster with incredible reach that he used for evil and to help destroy the country. He’s waking up to the knowledge he was played for a sucker…but I also don’t feel terribly sorry for him, either. What am I supposed to think? “Sorry you’re not nearly as smart as you thought you were”? And…the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain is populated pretty heavily with white racists who fled the integration of the public school system in New Orleans.

And don’t even get me started on Sean fucking Duffy.

But I slept pretty well last night and feel very rested this morning. My legs feel a bit tired, but that’s nothing I can’t deal with and I am going to be seated most of the day…although sometimes they tighten up if I sit for a long time. After Paul got home, we watched this week’s The Morning Show and Peacemaker–which I am really enjoying this season, and will definitely be writing about the show once this season concludes–before retiring to bed for the evening pretty early.

Sigh, it’s going to be glorious not really having to get up to an alarm for a week….because my vacation also begins when I finish day job work today. Huzzah!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in which you tomorrow, okay?

Da Doo Ron Ron

Sunday, Sunday…can’t trust that day.

I probably should have saved this title for Monday, since the original lyrics open with “met her on a Monday and my heart stood still.” But it will always be a Shaun Cassidy tune to me, even though his version was a cover and reminds me of the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries series that aired in the late 1970s. Ah, to be in my teens again–only medicated properly this time. What a difference that could have made, right?

I left the apartment yesterday morning to walk over to the Marsten House on St. Charles, and I have to say–the experience was vastly superior to the one I had on Magazine, in the Garden District’s version of Walgreens. Including walking there and back, it took a sum total of fifteen minutes, so fuck you, Walgreens on Magazine; you will now be known as the Marsten House on Magazine, and the one a block from my house will simply be Walgreens again. Still not planning on doing much business with them going forward, but the experience was entirely pleasant. Until I got home, at any rate. Remember, I felt good yesterday morning? Well, within an hour of getting home I was running a slight fever and was completely exhausted. Everything aches from fatigue this morning, despite a good night’s sleep, and my alarm kitty let me sleep later than usual, too. (He tried to get me up at the normal time, but when I didn’t? He just turned into a purring kitty cuddle puddle, which made it even harder to get up. My mind was woozy all day, too, so I didn’t get much done other than sitting in my easy chair with football games on, a couple of things around the house (dishes and a load of laundry), and read some more of The Hunting Wives. Paul was out packing up his office all day and didn’t get home until after nine (he’ll be doing the same today, too). Most of the football games were disappointing–LSU lost and played terribly; Auburn lost to A&M; and Arkansas lost to Notre Dame. Georgia-Alabama was a really good game, as was Mississippi State-Tennessee, and Tulane trounced Tulsa. But I wasn’t really vested in any of the games–the fatigue and brain fog thing again–so the LSU loss didn’t really hit as hard as it usually does. So, thanks, COVID vaccine?

And do not @me regarding the vaccine reaction. I work in public health, so let me stop you before you start: I will block you for anti-vaxxer stupidity, and fuck you, while we are at it; fuck you with a razor-blade encrusted dildo. Jenny McCarthy should burn in hell for all eternity for her ignorance and idiocy–anyone who listens to that stupid bitch for medical advice is even worse than she is– period, and fuck you. I reacted strongly to the vaccine because I am immunocompromised because of the colitis, idiots.

I will never understand the mentality that it’s preferable to have a dead child as opposed to an autistic one.

My hips and legs ache painfully. It’s horrible. But my coffee is delicious, and so was my coffee cake. I’m about to make some toast, and maybe a bowl of cereal and get another cup. I have some emails I want to answer this morning–I’ve been ignoring my inbox for quite some time–and of course, there are some finishing touches the apartment also needs to have done. I don’t know what my energy is going to be like throughout the rest of the day, but I hold out hope for a very nice, productive day.

Also? I really miss the time when I didn’t dread checking the news.

I did think a lot yesterday about the book and writing, even if I couldn’t focus enough to write. (The brain fog is absolutely terrifying, for the record. And the memory losses are even worse.) I know what the book needs in order to be finished, and it’s just a matter of energy and brain function. I also watched some videos for research for other projects (and for the book, too), and stumbled across a marvelous documentary about the Manchac Swamp and the so-called curse of Aunt Julia Brown. As you may or may not remember, the “curse” also involves the complete destruction of the isolated swamp town, Frenier, where she lived, by the Hurricane of 1915. (It also wiped out Manila Village and the Filipino settlements on the shores of Barataria Bay and Lake Borgne.) I’ve always wanted to write about the hurricane and Julia Brown–as well as the Filipino immigrant settlements, and it occurred to me after watching this documentary (which also talked about the destruction of the cypress forests in the swamp, which has also severely damaged the swamp ecosystem), and as we all know, I’ve been thinking about writing an environmental thriller set down here. Why not about the Manchac Swamp and some murders?

Why not, indeed.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday filled with love and laughter and relaxation, and I will be back on the morrow.

Crumbling old bridge in rural Louisiana

We Are Family

Work at home Friday, and my alarm kitty let me sleep in a few extra hours, so praise be at the very least, right? I do feel a bit fatigued this morning–my hip joints and legs ache a bit–but hopefully that won’t impact the day too terribly. I have some data entry to do and quality assurance to check off my to-do list. I have some errands to run, too–making groceries and the mail–which I will do after I get my work done. It looks to be sunny outside this morning; we’ve not had rain in a while, and there’s none in the forecast, either. As much as it rained in July and early August, we’re still almost in a drought in southeastern Louisiana. Wild that we’ve not had enough precipitation down here to stave off a drought…but it’s also why the humidity dialed back these past few weeks.

I finished reading the manuscript last night and made lots of notes, so I am also hoping to make a lot of progress this weekend on getting it finished, or at least much closer to the finish line. I was pretty tired when I got home from work–being client-facing in the clinic for thirty-two hours is a lot–and so ensconced myself with the manuscript and my lap kitty into my easy chair while catching up on the news, before watching the first episode of this season’s Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which somehow manages to keep the original spirit of these shows–delusional, petty women who create drama out of nothing–without somehow ruining it in some way. I’m pretty sick of most of the others, and it is true that Bravo will try to milk every single penny out of a franchise rather than letting it die a natural death when it’s time. It’s the way of American television, after all. I also slept deeply and well–the exhaustion, most likely–and so am hoping to get a lot done today.

First things first, though–I need a new to-do list.

This week saw the most horrifying example of government overreach and censorship perhaps in our nation’s history, directly violating the First Amendment. I was also extremely disappointed to see ABC/Disney caving in to a government demand, particularly when you think about how firm and steadfast progressive support for Disney has been when they’ve faced boycott threads from the Hard Right. Is this the same fucking company that filmed Johnny Tremain? As far as I am concerned, I would have sued the complaining Hard Right affiliates for breach of contract or cut off their national ABC feed. You can’t make money without any content, can you? The fact that major network affiliate companies have just publicly admitted that they don’t support free speech and filter content with an agenda for their audiences means they shouldn’t be allowed to be in broadcasting, period. You either take all of our content, or you get none of it, would be my position. Obviously, my view and opinion on how all of this works is uninformed and possibly naïve, since I don’t know how this stuff works, but when a media company goes on the record making demands of talent and makes threats? I really don’t think you should be in business when you’re on the record as pro-censorship of ideas and speech you don’t like. Disney used to always play hardball and always won. This cowardice in the face of authoritarianism and the fall of the Constitution is something I personally will never forget. And going to their theme park in the middle of Disease Central? No fucking thanks.

Never ever forget that corporations are soulless entities only interested in profit and power, for all that the Supreme Court had determined they count as a person…although a person who cannot face criminal charges or jail time. How precisely does that kind of personhood work? Sad that corporations have more legal protections than people, isn’t it? And isn’t that really the bottom-line problem in this country, after its systemic racism and dedication to preserving white supremacy and the American heresy?

I’ve also gone back to my old standard rule of social media: if you come across my feed talking stupid-ass shit, I am going to not engage but just block you. Yesterday I saw an author stupidly claiming that this recent outrage wasn’t a First Amendment violation but a business decision. This woman, who clearly is too stupid to understand anything, has had some shitty takes before–but I have no time or patience for anyone who is that stupid…so out the airlock she went, and not sorry to see her stupid flat unwashed ass go, in all honesty. Here’s hoping this helps my sanity going forward and stops me from wasting my time.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow most likely.

Oh, look, yet ANOTHER sexy image of St. Sebastian. At least he hasn‘t been “penetrated” yet by the arrows…

Rock Me Gently

Thursday morning and my last day in the office for the week! Huzzah! The bed felt very comfortable this morning, and Sparky has started cuddling with me in the mornings after the alarm goes off the first time, which makes it even harder to get up. (Of course, he’s only doing this because he wants me to get up and feed him, the mercenary little dear.) I also feel a bit tired in the legs, which means I will probably be exhausted when I get off work, but that’s okay. There are worse things. We’re also completely booked up in the clinic, too, so I will be kept hopping at the office all day, too. I think I will most likely just come straight home from work tonight, too, although my copy of the new Lou Berney has come in for me to pick up, which I’ll do this weekend, most likely.

Today is also 9/11, which is always a rather somber day. Twenty four years ago, the country and the world changed forever. My condolences to those who lost people on that day, as well as those forever traumatized by witnessing (or escaping) the tragedy. And I hope those who exploited the emotion of the moment and the years immediately after to push an un-American agenda through Congress to gain more power. The PATRIOT Act was the first step on the road to authoritarianism, and it’s still in effect…the key word to throw out the Bill of Rights was, apparently, “terrorism.”

The murder of Charlie Kirk yesterday was a real shock; when I first saw that he’d been shot on social media I wasn’t sure it wasn’t a hoax or some trolling or something else like that…but it did turn out to be true, and he died at the hospital. I saw one of the long-distance videos of it, which was sickening enough (and it was a result of auto-play on social media), and have no desire to the ones that were shot closer and are much more graphic. I am not now, nor have ever been, an advocate of violence of this type, but at the same time I am not going to feel bad that someone who thought I should be stoned to death for the crime of existing–and no one is going to guilt or shame me into feeling otherwise. I saw a lot of cisgender white women (of course) taking off their masks once and for all yesterday, who are apparently okay with gays being stoned to death and Blacks are inferior and school shootings are the price we pay for freedom. I am also tired of this double standard the right-wingers live by–how they haven’t been driven insane by the cognitive dissonance in their shitty little brains is beyond me. There has already been plenty of political violence from the Right–1/6/20 ring any bells? Remember the Minnesota legislators and their spouses? Remember the arson of the Pennsylvania governor’s home? Where was all this collective right wing outrage then? We should all be shocked and appalled…but no one seems to care that the right is calling for the murders of all non-MAGA’s in the country? For a civil war? OVER CHARLIE KIRK?

Bitch, please.

If you want to mourn him, that’s fine. I never tell anyone what they can think or feel–but I one thing I have never, and will never, tolerate people trying to climb on some kind of moral high horse about this and trying to scold/shame people about how to feel and react. You’re not my mother, thank you very much, and if you’re perfectly okay with someone saying queer people should be stoned to death, I know you aren’t safe for me. You’ll vote against my rights and dignity, and you’ll turn your head when the military police come for us. You’re just a good little German, and I don’t fucking need to know your dirty, unwashed wide flat Karen ass.

He wanted me, and others like me, to be put to death. That is who you’re telling me I should be empathetic and kind about? Were Black people supposed to grieve Bull Connor? Robert E. Lee?

And in the 1950s you would have claimed a black child whistled at you and never admitted culpability for his murder. That’s who you are.

And so very interesting that your panties are in a moist wad over Charlie Kirk but you’re okay with the school shooting yesterday? Is the air so thin up there on your high-horse that you’re not getting enough oxygen to your brain?

I also love knowing that the only reason you’re friends with me, either on-line or in real life, is because I sometimes edit anthologies so you want to be on my good side. Welp, you kind of blew that, didn’t you? I never forget. So sorry.

This is also why I say I respect Westboro Baptist’s homophobia: they don’t pretend. At least they’re honest–and when you’re negatively compared to Westboro, you need to reevaluate everything about your life. They won’t, of course; they think everyone else should change.

Ugh. This is such a dark time. I hate being here for the inevitable fall of the American empire. This post will probably cost me friends and followers, but

And on that somber note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a good day, Constant Reader. Here’s hoping we make it through all of this.

I wonder if this picture is too sexual for the prudish Puritans at Meta?

Abraham, Martin and John

Wednesday and Pay-the-Bills Day has rolled around for the first time in September. I didn’t sleep all that great, but don’t feel groggy at all this morning. However, if I had to I could easily go back to bed and fall asleep all over again. I am slowly starting to lift myself out of the abyss and pull my life back together. Yesterday was a pretty good day, actually. I felt great all day, not tired at all, and was able to get a lot done at the office. I wasn’t even tired when I got home after work, either! Huzzah and hurray! I spent some time getting caught up on the news when I got home, and then read for a while before Paul got home and I went to bed. I don’t know if this is all because of the injection on Monday, but whatever caused it, I am delighted and thrilled it happened. I suspect I’ll be a bit more tired this evening than I was yesterday, but I will happily take it, you know? The fatigue over the weekend was so intense and brutal–I’ve never been so tired it hurt, you know?–and I hope I never experience that again.

I am a bit tired this morning (mostly because of restless sleep and waking up several times during the night), but it’s not that horrible fatigue, which I fucking despise. I feel a little off, but nothing terrible that I can’t deal with, but no promises for this afternoon, you know? I was thinking about ordering groceries to be delivered this evening, but am not sure I shouldn’t just wait until Saturday. I am going to barbecue for the LSU-Florida game–burgers and cheese dogs, the regular tailgating action–and there are an awful lot of great games Saturday–Georgia-Tennessee, Wisconsin-Alabama, and two other games at the same time as LSU, Vanderbilt-South Carolina and Texas A&M-Notre Dame. I do love football season, even as it takes away from my productivity.

At least I enjoy cleaning while the games are on.

The world and country continue to burn to the ground, and social media continues to be filled with bots, grifters, rage baiters, and sad, broken people lashing out in a pathetic attempt to somehow feel better about themselves as American mediocrities and failures. I have very little hope for the future of this country, now that the small-minded hateful bigots who don’t understand the first thing about freedom and liberty are in control. It’s also interesting to see how many Americans are into the whole fascism thing. Sinclair Lewis was very prescient with It Can’t Happen Here, wasn’t he? I also saw some insane shit-posting about To Kill a Mockingbird being racist1, but not for the reasons most people do. No, this empty-minded moron was bitching about the book being racist because it showed an all-white jury wrongfully convicting a Black man for a crime they knew he didn’t commit thus making white people look bad.

Excuse the fuck out of me?

As I replied, you’re right–it would have never gotten to trial. He would have been lynched the same night he was accused.

Because that was how it was done in Alabama in the 1930s, and to suggest anything else is a blatant lie.

I also love the MAGA bitch from Georgia who got the proposed Hyundai plant shut down completely, dealing a harsh blow to her own state’s economy and that of the district she is running to represent. If this were an episode of Law & Order, her body would be found and they’d work their way back around to her ignorance and stupidity. I am so tired of the rampant stupidity as the American empire crumbles and dies…this is going to be one of those times future history students will look back on and think but why were they so stupid? Couldn’t they SEE?

I was once that child reading history.

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

Artist’s rendering of the Temple at Edfu, Egypt
  1. My feelings about To Kill a Mockingbird are very conflicted, as I don’t see it as a great American novel about race the way most white people see it, and that may become an essay at some point. ↩︎