Tag: MAGA

It Ain’t Me Babe

Ah, it’s Monday and I am up early, swilling coffee and getting ready to face down a very short, and most likely slow, week in the office. Paul is leaving tomorrow for a week, so tomorrow I’ll come home to a quiet, empty house. It’ll be weird, of course,1 but I am going to try to keep busy. I do have a lot of homework2 to get done this week, and hopefully Sparky won’t be near as needy as he always is when it’s just the two of us. Sparky has, at long last, starting sleeping in the bed with us, always in a kitty donut down by my feet, which is very relaxing. He’s been there the last several mornings when I wake up, which is nice. He’s also started cuddling and sleeping with Paul on the couch–like Scooter, Sparky takes turns with our laps when we’re watching television; unlike Scooter, Sparky starts with Paul for a while before curling up in mine for the rest of the evening. It only took just over a year, but we finally have the cuddle bug we wanted. He still only purrs when he’s riding my shoulders, draped around my neck–but he’s getting cuddlier, and there’s more head-butting by the day.

I had a very relaxing day yesterday, but didn’t get nearly as much done as I wanted to–like always. Still reeling from the power of The Reformatory3, I started reading Lavender House by Lev AC Rosen. I am absolutely loving it. I love the voice, I love the main character, I love the writing, and so I know I am going to really love this book–and once I get going, it will be unputdownable. Yay! And there’s two more in this series, too, which is very exciting–not to mention all his other works, in y/a and romance. Paul spent most of the day working upstairs, and leaving me on my own with Sparky for most of the day. I finished my entry on The Reformatory, and worked on some writing, mostly thinking and taking notes. I’m glad this is a short work week, and am looking forward to some lovely down time here by myself. I made progress on the apartment this past weekend, and will probably get some more progress made over this coming long weekend4.

I need to make a to-do list, and to get better organized, but I made progress. I have a manuscript to edit, some short stories to read and judge for Saints and Sinners, and my own writing to work on around here. Sparky will be needy the whole time, and I am going to watch the new season of Heartstopper, before diving into Sex and the City. I’ve also found some movies to watch over the weekend, too–or in the evenings when I get home from work tomorrow and Wednesday. I’ve also got my Housewives shows, and there’s always some cleaning to be done somewhere–not to mention more pruning of the books and the storage attic.

While I was driving around doing my errands Saturday I started listening to Orville Peck’s music on Spotify, and I love it! I have yet to hear a song of his that isn’t a bop, so I saved several of his albums to my library and am going to start listening to him more regularly in the car. I’ve always liked all kinds of genres of music; there just really hasn’t been any country outside of Dolly in a while that I’ve been interested in. I also kind of hate how country music has been taken over by the Right and MAGA–I’ve never forgiven country music for what it did to the Chicks, and they were RIGHT–so I try not to listen to much of the newer stuff. Country music used to be about outlaws and fighting the man holding down the working class, instead of being a bunch of appeasers and collaborators.

They’d shun and cancel Johnny Cash today for being woke. How fucking sad is that?

They must really hate Orville Peck for being openly gay–even though they really embraced Li’l Nas X when he was doing country music back in the day…until he came out and switched genres.

I don’t know what to think about what’s coming, but it’s pretty sad that the only thing standing between us and authoritarianism are the courts, Senate Republicans, and the administration’s utter incompetence. Paul and I have made up our minds to enjoy ourselves as much as possible between now and the transfer of power; who knows what’s coming after that? These are dark times indeed, and a lot of damage can be done by utter incompetence and a program of complete and utter unfettered cruelty. I think the biggest shock for me of the election is that self-absorption and unbridled hatred of anything not straight, white and cishet was actually embraced by the country.

Then again, this is a country that wasn’t able to legislate or vote slavery out of existence, and it took a war. The appeasement of slave-owning Americans from 1787 through 1865 will always be a stain on this nation’s history, and by not dealing with any of it, or systemic racial oppression, by not facing the truth in all its brutal ugliness, we’ve never been able to progress as a racially diverse nation or move on from it. (I always love when Americans take the moral high road when talking to or about other countries; like we have any room to talk about oppressing citizens and human rights violations? Bitch, please.)

Sigh. And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later. One never knows!

  1. I’ll never understand how someone can take up so much space, and how much bigger and emptier it seems when he isn’t there. ↩︎
  2. Writing and reading and editing, oh my! ↩︎
  3. Which might be one of my favorite novels of all time, period, regardless of genre. ↩︎
  4. I am planning on simply cleaning the bathrooms on Thursday morning, and having a very lazy day doing little to nothing other than reading and binge-watching television series; I’ll push myself the other three days. I can also do things at night this week once Paul departs tomorrow morning. ↩︎

Shake

Well, yesterday was a good day for one Gregalicious. I didn’t get as much done around the house as I would have preferred, but c’est la vie. I did have football games on all day, mostly as a break from monotonous silence, but I did get to see the Florida upset of Mississippi, and surprisingly enough, LSU beat Vanderbilt last night to stop their three game losing streak…but have to play Oklahoma next, who managed to not only upset Alabama last night but beat them pretty soundly. After the LSU game I caught the end of Auburn-Texas A&M, which Auburn finally won in quadruple overtime. What a crazy year this has been in the SEC, has it not? Now the winner of Texas-Texas A&M will play Georgia for the SEC title. #madness.

But one thing I remembered finally is that I usually read during games I don’t necessarily care about, and so I finished The Reformatory by Tananarive Due at last yesterday, and what a read it was. I’d say it’s one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time, and I read a lot of really good books, so that is really saying something. I’ve added Due to my list of “must-read” writers, and she has a substantial backlist I am looking forward to exploring. It took me a very long time to get through this book, because it was so powerful and the horror in it was so completely real, but more on that later. I am going to go out on a limb and call it a masterpiece for now, and encourage you to read it if you have not. Today I am going to start reading Lavender House by Lev AC Rosen, whom I’ve met and found delightful, and whose career I’ve been following avidly. I’ve yet to read one of his books, but I am very excited to read one of the most acclaimed queer mysteries of the last few years. I’m also kind of thrilled to be reading fiction again. Today I am also going to read a couple of short stories a friend sent me to read, and probably will do some writing, either short story, essay, or the book, today as well. I went to get the mail and made a grocery run yesterday, so I don’t have to do anything errand-like today, but I should probably make it to the gym later this morning. The weather has been wonderful, and one thing I am determined to do this year is drive around the city taking pictures of Christmas decorations. I definitely want to write a nice essay about Christmas this year, and the essay I worked on briefly yesterday, “Recovering Christian,” is one I started working on about twenty years ago. The lovely thing about Substack is I now have a place to post those essays, and share them with the world. I do have to make more of an effort to post content there at least once a week.

I do wonder if all the readers I picked up there during my ranting about homophobia post are expecting that kind of content all the time? I don’t know, but in some ways I am thinking that the Substack (also a place to publish short stories, too, if I so choose) is kind of a good place to write about my life, and explore issues of being a queer American writer, and my thoughts and opinions about systemic bigotry, and all the things I was miseducated about as a child. (American Mythology, hello?) That way it will live up to the name it shares with this blog, “Queer and Loathing in America.” I also want to write essays about my gay life, and the lessons I learned the hard way, as well as writing. I’ve been unpacking my past ever since Mom died–the first time I’ve ever allowed myself to look back–and while I am not sorry I never did this before, I am also learning a lot more about myself and why I do things and why I react the way I do and how much of my life was controlled/driven by anxiety. I was fine at the party the other night, but too many people in spaces still makes me uncomfortable and uneasy, but that’s okay. The claustrophobia might be anxiety related, or it may be entirely it’s own thing, but the primary difference was that there was no adrenaline spike or spiraling. I was able to relax, and kind of enjoy myself more.

And that is what I meant when I said I was pulling back from the crime community and centering myself. I want to focus on myself, on Paul, and our needs and what we need to do and handle and take care of, and I don’t want to do emotional labor for anyone else anymore. I’ve been watching a lot of Youtube and TikTok videos about cutting MAGA voters out of your life, or at the very least setting boundaries, and I saw one that really made a lot of sense to me: we don’t feel safe around them, but we don’t have to cut them out entirely, we just have to stop giving them emotional labor. Go get sympathy from another MAGA voter, since you’re all so empathetic and sympathetic to the concerns, fears and rights of other people. It’s why BlueSky has been flooded by Twitter trolls, now that the genius has killed that platform (but hey, let’s put him in charge of government!). They don’t enjoy talking to each other, so they have to “pwn the libs.” But they just get blocked, so they’re the ones who wind up in a echo chamber. Hell, I block people who annoy me. It’s my space, my experience, and if I don’t want the aggravation of annoying people or giving them time or energy, well…no one can make me engage with people who steal my peace.

I also don’t think people understand how casual homophobia, so easy for straight people to slip into with their excessive privilege, makes us feel when we hear it or hear about it or (in some cases) read about it in screen shots. Not only do we no longer feel safe around you, we can’t count on you to stand up for us when the chips are literally down. There’s been some slightly viral conversation about some Jewish lesbian who voted for Trump and has been cut off from her friends and kicked off a team. “I wouldn’t do this to someone who voted for Harris,” she cries her crocodile tears, as she sits down with right-wing podcasters and plays victim and martyr. She voted for Trump because of pro-Palestine lefties…or so she claims. So she aligned herself with someone who actually had dinner with a Nazi, and has been embraced by American Nazis. Who ally themselves with the Proud Boys and other ant-Semites (who precisely are the voters who chant “Jew will not replace us” again?), and now wants everyone to feel sorry for her and pretends ignorance. Sorry not sorry, bitch–your new buddies and the Karens posting on your instagram talking about how horrible it is that queers actually can see this quisling bitch for who she is? Those bitches will be the first ones to turn you into the SS, moron. It’s especially egregious because my education in feminism and social justice was at the hands of lesbians; I’ve always thought lesbians, of all people, would know better than this bullshit. And this bitch is talking about “how we all need to have these tough conversations”–no, we don’t, honey. The time for tough conversations was before the election, and trust me, there’s not a single tough conversation I could possibly have where I’d be willing to come to an agreement or compromise with people who cheered the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the 80s and 90s. You don’t compromise with the Klan. You don’t compromise with Nazis. You don’t compromise with people who’s starting position is “you don’t deserve any rights, and you really shouldn’t exist.”

Feel free to pound your head into that wall until it’s pulp, Benedictine Arnold. Enjoy the lonely life of celibacy you’ve set up for yourself.

The funniest thing about her is she is a butch lesbian–short hair, masculine clothes, the whole ball of wax–and you know she is going to get challenged going into the ladies’ bathroom or changing room.

Good. Enjoy what you voted for. I have no patience with queer remoras attaching themselves to the sharks circling the rest of us. I certainly have no forgiveness in my heart for the future informers and camp guards. She showed us who she is, and we believe her.

And on that note, I am going to head over to my chair to read for a bit before I get to work around here. I slept really well again last night, and feel pretty good this morning. I also want to work on my review of The Reformatory, and get some other things done. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later on.

You Turn Me On

Ugh, I have to make an unscheduled stop on the West Bank this morning to get my car serviced. I’d hoped to make it to next weekend (it was on that to-do list), but the little wrench light came on yesterday and I need to get the oil changed now. There’s other servicing it’s going to need to, but it’s going to have to wait. I had hoped to get some stuff done around here this morning instead of sitting in the waiting room of my car dealership, but it’s a good time for me to read some more of The Reformatory, which is superb, but is also challenging to me–and you really do need to read books that make you uncomfortable. Tananarive Due doesn’t let up, never takes her foot off the neck of white supremacy, and she shouldn’t, either. No one should, and because of the sobering realities of that time period, I know this book isn’t going to give me the kind of ending I want for these characters that I love–I’ve read enough of the facts about places like Raiford to know the kids at this fictional version will not make it out of there alive.

I’ve been avoiding the news successfully. The really funny thing about the legacy media is they still don’t get it. They rubbed their hands with glee and breathlessly reported every MAGA insult, lie or slander as actual news and actively worked to undermine and demoralize the Blue vote for ratings, but can’t seem to wrap their minds around the reality that they betrayed their country for clicks and viewers by rubbing Blue voters’ faces in lie after lie after lie. It’s in their best interests, you see, to give MAGA every last bit of oxygen they possibly could because it’s always driven their ratings up. They shivved Biden by playing into MAGA lies about his cognitive function and his abilities to do the job, even as he single-handedly overhauled the country and brought it back from the abyss that yes, MAGA once again parked it on the edge of, teetering–just like 2008. They brooked no opposition to the Afghan and Iraq eternal wars, even as most Americans knew the war hawks were lying like dogs to send our young people over there to die for really no reason. We were told we didn’t support the troops by opposing the war (the conservatives learned their lesson from Vietnam, didn’t they?), and opposing the war was spitting on the graves of the 9/11 victims. The Chicks’ career was completely canceled and never recovered (which is why I am always “miss me with your bitching about the cancel culture YOU invented”). They drove the economy into the ditch, and the housing crash of the later Bush II years was actually a result of Reagan economic policies, but let’s deify that senile old fuck, shall we?

As Winston Churchill once famously said, “You can always count on the Americans to do the right thing–after they’ve tried everything else.”

But…I don’t have to give the legacy media my money, my attention or my clicks. I will continue to support independent journalism, but in cowering before his attacks, the legacy media turned itself into exactly what he said they are–fake news–and have utterly failed the country at their Constitutionally-appointed mandate to critique and criticize any and everyone who puts the nation at risk. Just like I’m not giving my money and my time to books by unproven allies anymore. There are some straight men whose books I will continue to read–but that already very short list has become much, much shorter. I am a little annoyed about having to go over to the West Bank this morning, because I had planned on pruning books by people I will never read–hey they got my money already–and taking them to the library sale this morning, but I now have the week to weed out those offending books and get them off my shelves and my stacks before they infect the others with passive homophobia.

As I said yesterday, I’ve made some people uncomfortable this past week, and the old Greg might have held back…but I don’t care anymore. For queer people, this is what we have to deal with on a daily basis from practically everyone. People think I was joking over the years when I’d say things like “I am 100% team extinction event”. I wasn’t. People think I’m funny for some reason I’ve never completely understood, but I’ve leaned into it as protective coloring for most of my life–as long as people were laughing they weren’t hating–and people often think I am being funny when I am dead serious. Maybe it’s my delivery, maybe it’s the incredibly expressive face (I can always maintain a calm, cool exterior when someone is homophobic in front of me, but that was a survival instinct I picked up in public school; don’t react, don’t let then see how wounded you are because that’s what they want–so deny them their fun as much as possible, but other than that, I can’t hide how I’m feeling), but yes, people think I’m funny. Younger kids have always been drawn to me most of my life, and I do think it’s the face; I can make my meme face to them and they always giggle and laugh; I also don’t really know how to talk to kids so I just talk to them the way I do with everyone else–and they respond to that. I am never comfortable around people’s children because you never know when someone is going to decide that I’m a danger to their kids, as some women I know seem to think I’m a pedophile groomer because aren’t all queer men?

Ever been called a groomer or a pedophile or both by someone you know? It’s happened to me more than once. And then the people saying it are shocked that I’ve cut them off completely, which is even more astonishing to me. Um, you called me a child rapist. (Always straight white women, of course. Of course because you are even worse than your men because you should know better. Can we stop making excuses for conservative women? Melania is exactly where she wants to be; she is no victim. Do you make excuses for Eva Braun, too? Eva Peron? Imelda Marcos? Nancy Reagan?)

And you think that’s forgivable? I hope you enjoy every horror of our new administration because you deserve it.

I’m also kind of amused at how people also seem to think we don’t have interior lives, too–and are also writers. You just blithely assume that I am what I present to you, too–like I’m not recording every insult, every slight, and every last belittling remark? I’m a writer who used to work for an airline, where you were fucked if you didn’t document every little fucking thing. I started keeping a journal when I was a kid, where I recorded all my hopes and dreams as well as all my hatred and bad wishes to the 99% of kids who were bullies, or were complicit. I always carry a notebook with me, and I started using blank journals when I worked for the airline. I kept everything in my journals–phone numbers, to-do lists, airline computer shortcuts that don’t come up very often, and often between flights I would sit at an empty gate with a cup of coffee and write–in Continental Airlines green ink–in my journals what was going on in my life. I see offensive shit on line? Screen cap, for the “Receipts” folder. I keep every email filed away in my archive and can locate it with a simple email search. I’ve bookmarked offensive essays, blog posts, and websites, and I’ve also recorded those website addresses in a “bigot spreadsheet.”1

You’re not the only ones who put on a mask. It might do you some good to reflect on that thought, too–we all have brains, we all have ears, and we all have memories and cognitive thinking capabilities, and we have a lot more practice in protective coloring than you ever will. Does that make you uncomfortable? Good.

And I don’t care if things ever change for me. As I said, I am done with conferences and things like that. But I’m going to be watching, and listening. You come for my queer colleagues, you have to come through me–and you have no idea what a monster I can be when it comes to protecting people I care about. I’m used to being treated like dirt. But you come for this new generation of queer crime writers, or the ones that have come since I entered this hellhole of a white supremacist community?

Just remember, I’m watching.

And no one ever sees me coming.

  1. yes, if you’re wondering if I’ve kept a shitty email you sent me, yes I do have it in case I need it–like when you want something from me. I never send said email back with a note for why on earth would you want my help/advice/etc when you’ve made it abundantly clear what you think of me? I just read it again before deleting your latest email. I am not required to respond to you, nor are you entitled to my time or effort. ↩︎

Tired of Waiting for You

Thursday morning and my last day in the office for the week. It’s not been a bad week at the office, and of course, seeing my clients always ground me from everything else. I may not be able to change the world or affect hearts and minds on a large scale, but I do make a difference in their lives–and helping people on the smaller, one to one scale, is very rewarding. Back in the days before PrEP and undetectable viral loads, my job was to find new infections and get those people set up with treatment and medical care. That was difficult, and while rewarding, it was also emotionally draining. My job taught me the importance of listening to people’s fears and concerns while only responding with kindness and empathy. Even now, finding out that you’re HIV positive is severely traumatizing for people; and while members of my community are more knowledgeable about risk, infections, and preventive measures to keep themselves safe…it’s still a shock to the system, and it’s vitally important for their mental health that you talk them down and keep them from spiraling into depression and despair. Being kind and reassuring in that moment is crucial…and giving them self-empowering messaging about their health and body in the wake of a positive diagnosis makes a huge difference. I generally don’t talk about my work because people tend to idealize it–being told “thank you for the important work you do” always makes me uncomfortable, and I don’t feel like this work gives me any moral authority about anything other than the history of HIV/AIDS and how we’ve been treated by Americans as a whole. Sometimes I wonder if my job is a way of atoning for surviving those times and never being infected when so many good people died, but I know I wish I could have been even more there for the friends I lost–for everyone we lost.

Of course, they have all been pretty on edge this week. They’re worried about their access to PrEP; what insurance companies are going to be allowed to do (whatever they want, the way it was before the ACA), and whether we will still be funded to provide the services that we do. All I can do is shrug and say “well, this organization was founded during the Reagan administration, and we survived George W. Bush…”

I never thought I’d miss that presidency.

My job has actually been a wonderful education in examining my own prejudices and biases, and also realizing that everyone is the same, no matter what color their skin or what their native language is or what their gender or sexual identity might be. Everyone taking an HIV test is terrified–even with all the advances in treatment and prevention–and it’s my job to provide a warm, welcoming and friendly place to lesson their fears about the entire process and how it might go. If I had a dollar for every time I said, “It’s okay to be nervous or afraid, even if you’re pretty certain you’re not infected” I wouldn’t have to worry about retiring anymore, would I?

I should take my own advice more, you know? I am not a fan of conflict–which is why I try to avoid it whenever possible; my mother was the same way, and even with the anxiety medications I’m on that have made my life so much easier than it used to be, I’ve still been spiking since the election (big shock), but it’s not as horrible as it used to be, and those anxiety spikes are easier to get under control then they’ve ever been before. Imagine what a wreck I would be without it! Perish that thought, you know?

I’ve also not written anything besides blog entries, some emails, and a couple of essays for Substack this week, and I really need to circle around back to my book this weekend. This week is already toast for all intents and purposes, but being done wasting my time watching college football on the weekends is going to free up a lot of time. Most of college football players, coaches, and fans are all MAGA anyway; and I’m not even sure I can bother watching the Saints anymore since most of the NFL owners, players and coaches are as well–at least the white ones. I actually took comfort last weekend in the embarrassing loss in knowing that most of the other people disappointed in that game voted for the monsters, and it actually made me smile. Good, I thought when it occurred to me, I hope they’re all embarrassed and upset and angry and heartbroken. Then they’ll get to experience one tenth of what marginalized people in this country have been feeling since the election, even though they won’t learn a fucking thing from it.

They never learn. And while I know it doesn’t speak well to me as a person, I do smile and enjoy it when they suffer. Someday I might be able to dredge up sympathy who laughed as they slit the nation’s throat.

Then again, this isn’t the country I was raised to believe in anymore. It never was that country, and apparently has no interest in being that country. We’ve been conditioned to admire and respect the rich–no matter how they got rich–and now, here we are, heading into an oligarchy like the one they currently enjoy in Russia. The signature achievement of Reagan’s presidency, according to those who worship at his altar, was defeating Communism and ending the Soviet Union. Current Russia is exactly the same as the old Soviet Union–the difference is the Republicans have rolled us over and exposed our belly to our biggest enemy. We are now Russia’s little bitches, beta soy boys to one of the worst gangsters of our time.

Never been prouder to be an American.

And on that cheery note, I am heading into the spice mines. I need a to-do list (the world keeps turning even as its burning) and get everything together to get back to my own work for as long as I can write and publish. Have a great one, and I promise I’ll be back to being my usual cheerful self.

At least, I hope so.

Blowin’ in the Wind

Wednesday morning and the middle of the week! We’ve made it this far, Constant Reader, even though this week hasn’t quite gone the way I would have liked.

The decision to limit social media consumption isn’t going as well this week as I would have liked; I hadn’t anticipated the pull of my phone while I am at work. And getting home from work every night this week, after I finish whatever I need to do (errands and so forth) I’ve repaired to my easy chair and watched some “MAGA voter regrets” videos on Youtube before my eyes started to glaze over and I kind of zoned out for the rest of the night. I don’t like the part of me that enjoys their pain; it is not my instinct to default for sympathy for people who want to harm everyone else. You can never go wrong not having any faith in the decency of the majority of Americans, because they have no decency or shame.1

But, I am not going to be hard on myself. I am trying, at long last, to break all the programming/grooming that I don’t deserve anything or even a writing career. I am going to keep writing–make no mistake about that–and i have to figure out ways to market them and get the word out there. Going to mystery conferences was clearly a mistake; why bother pitching readers on books that are not in the booksellers’ room2? I finally got resigned to them never having my books–or only one copy–and hoped people would possibly enjoy listening to me on panels and maybe take a chance; and now I am wondering if my presence also gaslit queer writers into feeling safe at conferences? I guess that will be on my conscience till the day I die. (Ironically, the substack posts about homophobia get way more than ten times the views that my other essays get, which means one of two things, or both. I was either wrong about scaring people off by being honest about how much it sucks to be queer in this modern time, or people enjoy reading about queer pain. I don’t think I want to know which one is right, to be honest, or even consider that the two are linked.)

But what I need to do is get back to writing my books and stories; I need to put all this shit aside and focus on my work. I was able to get through the first forty-two years of my life with my sexuality and my love life against the law in every one of the fifty states (and the territories! Can’t forget those bigots either!). I lived through the Reagan administration and the George W. Bush years, both of which callously didn’t care whether we lived or died (in fairness, Reagan and his people thought AIDS was an excellent way to get rid of us). My country was willing to let us all die. Remind me again why I should be a patriot, or a conservative? All our equality movement did was make people realize if they were openly homophobic, some people they cared about would think they were bad people.

And I’ll keep writing about the bad shit, of course. It won’t change any hearts or minds, of course, but I need to get that poison (and anger) out of my system before it festers and makes me as bad a person as everyone else is. I don’t want to be a bad person. I don’t want to give into the darkness; I don’t want to feel bitter about the crime fiction community. I know I have friends, actual friends, in this community, and I do cherish them because they love and support me. But I need to stop thinking well of people who I’ve met and have been nice to me because I always forget the vast majority of people default to polite when confronted with someone/something they are revolted by. I don’t think most straight people realize what it’s like to be viewed with revulsion, like you’re some disgusting thing, some abomination. But it’s also much easier to go through life assuming people aren’t bigots until proven otherwise. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be someone we’ve racialized as a society. I kind of get it, but am still white privileged so will never understand completely; even my imagination is too limited.

The good news is a federal judge struck down Louisiana’s Ten Commandments in Every Classroom law as unconstitutional, but an immune from prosecution or consequence executive order from the White House will overrule that. And this Supreme Court already is on its back with their legs up in the air and their ass lubed, ready for some serious Constitution fucking. The Federalist Society is about to get their wishlist for the country for Christmas, isn’t that great? I, for one, look forward to not paying income taxes to educate other people’s children anymore. Wonder how my MAGA nieces and nephews are going to educate their kids, but hey–they voted for it.

I’m so tired of being ignored like Cassandra on the walls of Troy.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day. Constant Reader, and we will soon be returning to our regular content. I’ll go back to ignoring the slings and arrows of “allies” and enemies, like a good little gay, back in his corner–and no worries, folks. I wouldn’t go to a conference even if they asked me to be a special guest–and that is never going to happen anyway. Not as long as a straight white man has written a first novel, anyway.

  1. And even as this administration destroys their lives, the government-controlled media will help convince them it’s someone else’s fault, because it always is. Is anyone ever surprised about how horrible people after all the genocides? The gleeful bigotry and the embrace of hatred? ↩︎
  2. This is something I left out of my Substack essay yesterday about homophobic booksellers: they are also never to be criticized, no matter how bigoted and horrible they are. “They work so hard on conferences,” is always the response, “you can’t even question their bigotry.” If you want to read it, this link should take you there. ↩︎

For Your Love

Here it is Tuesday morning, and I am up early and so ready to drink coffee and get cleaned up and head into the office. The coffee is actually hitting the spot quite nicely this morning and I actually feel good and rested again this morning. I didn’t feel terribly tired when I got home last night from work, but Sparky was needy and I allowed myself to give in to his demands for my lap. (Scooter also used to do this, and I am kind of thrilled Sparky is the same way after I’ve been at work all day; I missed my relaxation/wind down time with Scooter, frankly.) I had a good day at work yesterday, and hope to have a great one today. I do feel good, and not sleepy or groggy in the least, which is a very good thing. I may get tired later on, but I have to go get the mail and make a little groceries on the way home tonight, so whether or not I’ll be able to get any good work done tonight remains to be seen. We’ve also got shows to watch and get caught up on, too.

We’ve been watching Rivals, which we are enjoying, and it’s a lot of fun–slyly wicked and funny, with an exceptional cast filled with really hot men, including Aidan Turner, who is aging into a sexy hot daddy. I’m interested in seeing how it all turns out, and am enjoying the ride for sure. I also watched the most recent Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, and his piece on naturalization and becoming a US citizen, also took some potshots at grifting loser Lee Greenwood–which I am always up for. Greenwood’s song is patriotic pablum mixed in with un-Christlike proselytizing tying faith to patriotism in a most egregious and heavy-handed way (my favorite part of the whole segment is when Oliver reveals that Lee “Mr. Christian Patriot” Greenwood recorded a version for Canada! The grift is real, people1.

I spent some time yesterday following the Taylor Swift trends on social media, so I could how much the Swifties loved New Orleans–and how much New Orleans loved them back. It’s actually kind of wholesome, you know? The economic impact of her concerts here was roughly half a billion dollars–and every service worker made a fortune in tips and had a marvelous time. The Swifties set a standard for New Orleans tourism that will be very hard for other major groups coming to town to live up to; henceforth it will be “yeah, but it wasn’t a Swiftie weekend”–and the Super Bowl crowd this coming February could also be Taylor Swift driven, too, if her boyfriend on the Chiefs makes it to the Big Game yet again…and while I am not a Chiefs fan, I kind of want them to make the Super Bowl (since the Saints clearly aren’t going to)…but it would also be kind of fun for the Washington Commanders to make it, since Jayden Daniels was an LSU star and is now getting Washington fans super-excited. He is fun to watch, and that Hail Mary against Chicago Sunday (I’ve watched clips) was stunning, and he’s so damned humble! Just a likable guy with a lot of football talent. I’m glad he came to LSU, obviously, but I’m also glad for him that it was clearly the right move for him. Say what you will about Brian Kelly (my jury is still out on him), but he made Jayden Daniels’ life. Had he stayed at Arizona State, he wouldn’t be where he is now, and that does kind of make the changes to college football over the last decade or so sensible. All that talent could have gone to waste because he made the wrong decision when he was seventeen, which makes me understand the need for the transfer portal so guys with talent can have a chance to prove themselves…but I’m sure for every Jayden Daniels (or Joe Burrow, for that matter) transfer portal success story, there’s several stories where the athlete screwed himself or was screwed by the system.

The election is a week away, and while the stakes couldn’t be higher (it seems like the stakes of elections have gotten higher with every presidential election since 2000), I did vote already so there’s really not much I can do at this point other than trying to reach undecided voters, and at this point anyone who is still undecided would be too fucking frustrating to talk to in the first place. I have no patience for puritan holier than thou third party voters because that is a privilege I have never been afforded. The number of straight white cisgender men (and the occasional woman) who have tried to shame me for recognizing that my rights are at risk with every election and therefore doing something pragmatic rather than appeasing my conscience? Who have talked down to me about it? All due respect, fuck third party voters now and forever. All third party voters have done in this century is elect George W. Bush and Donald Trump (and before them, Richard M. Nixon and Bill Clinton…so it benefited Republicans three out of four times), and their refusal to take any responsibility for that betrayal of ostensibly progressive ideals (“I’m too pure to vote for Hillary!”2 Well, congratulations on believing twenty years of nonstop lies and smears from Fox and the Right, big thinker! We should put you in charge of everything!) and then continuing to try to shame a gay fucking man who witnessed it all? Fuck yourself with barbed wire, and then give it to Jill Stein and Ralph Nader.

Straight cisgender people: telling queers how to think and believe and behave because we are, by virtue of being queer, are far too stupid to think for ourselves. So yes, a third party vote this year absolutely is a vote for MAGA–so you’re a racist and a misogynist and a homophobe. Glad your “conscience” is okay with that….which tells me a lot about your conscience and values.

Maybe the medications are allowing me to control the stress and anxiety this election is causing in me–I’m not spiraling by any means, and not doom-scrolling endlessly–but I think that could be weighing on me otherwise, which is where the low energy has come from lately? A thought; one never can be sure. But I am lot calmer this year than I have been since the Supreme Court awarded George Bush the White House on a silver platter in 2000.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a good one, and hang in there, Constant Reader!

  1. Don’t even get me started on the Blasphemy Bible grift. ↩︎
  2. In 2016, I worked with two young straight white girls who who would say “Hillary is GROSS” and “I hate having to vote for her” and bullshit like that to ME, a gay man. Insensitive much, ladies? The morning after Trump won, they were morose. I probably enjoyed saying “Well, at least that GROSS Hillary isn’t president, right?” I thought about texting them the morning Dobbs landed…. ↩︎

Down in the Boondocks

What exactly are boondocks, anyway?1

Monday morning and back to work with me today, which is fine. Yesterday was nice–despite the Saints losing; not a good weekend for Louisiana football outside of Tulane–and I feel rested and relaxed this morning, which is great. I have a lot to do today, and am really looking forward to having a good day. I did work on the book; I got the outlining of the first seven chapters done; I made a character list (a good start); and also recognized in the rereading what needs fixing and what needs adding and what needs redoing. I also outlined the rest of a short story I am working on, and figured out how to solve the problem of another one, too, which is very cool. I also read for a while, and really am enjoying House of Rain and Bone. I also figured out why it’s taking me so long to read, which I am puzzling over, and it hit me this morning–I am reading it slowly because I am savoring it, and because it’s making me think as I engage with it, and that’s not an easy thing for any writer to do with their work. The book is also a lot of things I generally don’t care for or like–lots of violence–but the language is very beautiful yet raw, the emotion is like an exposed nerve, but I am enjoying it very much, and it’s very intense…but takes me a while to process and digest what I read, so it’s not going very quickly. This is not a bad thing. Most readers will take this ride and not be able to put it down–it moves very quickly, the characters are remarkably likable, the main character is a relatable guy–but as a fellow author, I want to savor the language, the structure, the pacing, all the things that make the book so stunningly brilliant.

And that’s a good thing.

I feel pretty good this morning, actually. I slept really well last night, and feel rested and relaxed as I face the day. It’s my Admin day at work, so I have no pressures or stress and no interactions with clients, unless I see one by chance as I walk around doing other things this morning. I love my clients–I really do, and the long-termers are lovely to see every quarter–but interacting with people all day as someone who is, at heart, an introvert despite being a Leo (I like attention but it also makes me uncomfortable2), wears me out a bit.

I also worked on the Scotty Bible some this weekend. I marked up the final volume that wasn’t (Royal Street Reveillon) and then took down the notes from those pages, and will need to get that typed up. The last step of finishing the Bible includes reorganizing the notes into book order, before sorting them all into categories and so forth. I also need to do a synopsis of each book, detailing not only the case but developments in Scotty’s personal life, the family tree, and so on. Also going through the books to do this–even just pulling the notes out–has given me the opportunity (without the anxiety and all the little naysaying voices in my head, banished by my new medications) to reread (a bit) and reacquaint myself with the work with fresh eyes. As you probably already know, I am very hard of myself and was always dismissive of any achievements or recognition I may have received, and have forgotten a lot of the stories and what happened and why and where the idea came from and why I wanted to tell this story…but this revisitation without the usual Greg-crazy has made me appreciate the stories and the writing all the more, which is lovely and incredibly cool. I also realized yesterday while making the notes that while a Scotty Bible is needed and necessary, that an overall Greg Multiverse of New Orleans Bible is necessary; I’ve crossed over all my New Orleans writing (short stories and novels), using the same fictitious spaces and minor characters. (For example, Cooper Construction from A Streetcar Named Murder is also the construction company Scotty is using to renovate the building on Decatur Street.) So, yes, it needs to be more encompassing. I realized that Paige–Chanse’s best friend–whom I’ve also used in the Scotty series–most of her background is in the Chanse books, and yes, I should probably do one for him, too….sigh. It’s like pulling a string from something knit.

I’m kind of going to miss the Swifties, to be honest. We’re used to tourism here–non-stop conventions, the big events, and so on–but there was a marked difference between the Swifties and other big groups that take over New Orleans. For one thing, they were incredibly friendly and nice! So much good energy that I didn’t mind the crowds of them I had to pass through, and the outfits and everything. They were here to have a good time, of course, and the city welcomed them (and their wallets) with open arms so that it became almost a symbiotic pairing. Hospitality workers marveled at their kindness and their generous tipping; store owners and workers didn’t mind being busy because everyone was nice and polite and didn’t complain about anything. I loved the friendship bracelets adorning the Superdome. I loved the endless karaoke of Taylor’s songs that went on as they took over Bourbon Street. Every bar and every shop was playing her music. Her economic impact on the city was undeniable, and I can’t wait to hear about her local charity giving, which she always does–usually food banks and homeless shelters, bless her.

It’s no wonder MAGA hates her. They hate anyone who is kind and giving–they certainly do not recognize Jesus’ messages in her (which goes to show you how they would react to Jesus’ return, doesn’t it? I find it very interesting that his followers are the ones most likely to reject and crucify him). I won’t talk about the Nazi rally at Madison Square Garden yesterday because what else is there to say, other than “we’ve not seen anything like this since the Nuremburg rallies” but we did have one in MSG back in 1939, didn’t we? (And it should come as no surprise that it was conservatives who were pro-Hitler in 1939 America, does it? They hated FDR with the same kind of passion Trump ignites in his acolytes, and since they smeared him as a socialist/communist, naturally they got into bed with Nazis.)

Everything old is new again.

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

  1. So, turns out it means “rough, isolated country”–and has come to mean, in slang, a remote place with little to no civilization. Interesting. ↩︎
  2. And yes, that is on the list of issues to unpack and make peace with. ↩︎

The Grand Tour

Another Wednesday Pay-the-Bills day has rolled around, and I woke up relatively early this morning. I’d been wondering what time Sparky gets into the bed with me every morning, and now I know. I woke up at five thirty for some reason that remains a mystery to me, but I did, opened my eyes and looked at my alarm to see the time. While I was doing that Sparky materialized from wherever he sleeps at night, climbed up into the bed, and curled up into a cat puddle by my feet. He didn’t bother me at all until the alarm started going off–and even then, he mostly was just hitting me on the top of my head with a paw–no claws out this time. Of course, the first thing I did once I got downstairs and made coffee was check the hurricane path for Helene; she’s shifting even further east since yesterday, so maybe the panhandle won’t got clobbered as bad as it was looking yesterday. It looks now like the path is going into the bend of Florida’s Gulf side, and heading north through Georgia from there. Stay safe, everyone. It looks like it will hit tomorrow.

I got home later than usual last night, which was okay, I guess. Paul didn’t get home until late, either; so I wrote for a while, and did clean-up duty around the kitchen. It looks much better down here this morning, and maybe tonight I can do some more when I get home. I mostly cleaned and did dishes once I finished writing–Chapter 6 is actually kind of a bitch to write, but it’s coming along nicely–and went to bed shortly after Paul got home. I also slept extremely well last night; looks like we may be back to the “more rested the later in the week it gets” weirdness from before. (I’ve lost track of time again because everything has been so nuts and crazy–between the craziness of the most bizarre election cycle in US History, a hurricane, and the craziness of everything else, and yes, I am really tired of living through interesting times, to be honest, thank you for asking.) It does seem like the news is mostly the nonsensical latest madness to come from the other side, and just like that, we’re back to the sycophantic mainstream media letting the right determine the news coverage with their bizarre and weird antics. I’m glad I’ve blocked the primary offenders, and I will never forgive them for this election cycle news coverage, or go back to them as they continue to lose relevance. Good riddance to bad rubbish, is all I have to say.

I’m kind of excited about this weekend. There are great games to watch Saturday, climaxing with Georgia at Alabama, but LSU is playing South Alabama and it may not even be televised, which means I can get shit done around the house rather than settling into my chair waiting for the LSU game all day (it’s a night game in Tiger Stadium, natch). I think Saturday I’ll get my car washed and make a grocery run–it can wait till the weekend; I can make little stops to get things needed until Saturday morning. So I am hoping to get some good writing work done, as well as some good work organizing the apartment and cleaning things up and clearing things out. I’ve made some great progress this year–most of the boxes are down from on top of the cabinets, and now I need to start working on the attic, which might be a fun thing to start this weekend, one box at a time.

It’s nice being so awake and functional on a Wednesday morning, in all honesty. Yesterday I was definitely groggy when I got up, and I don’t think my brain was truly operational until around ten, most likely. I doubt that tomorrow morning I am going to wake up before the alarm, but stranger things have happened. I hope to be able to not only write this evening but also to read for a little while. I think I also want to watch the first episode of Monsters, now that I know every episode was from a different character’s perspective on the case, what happened, what happened before, and so on. That first episode was so jarringly different from the others, so I want to get another look at it with a new perspective. I think the first episode is actually not from a particular character’s POV, but rather from the general public’s; this is how the story was seen by most people. Yes, this show has really gotten into my head, and has made me reconsider some of the things I remembered and my point of view–which was primarily shaped by Dominick Dunne’s1 reporting…and Dunne himself is someone I’d like to revisit and think about. (When I originally read The Two Mrs. Grenvilles, I thought it was a fictional account of the Reynolds murder but it was the Woodward case–also a topic Truman Capote certainly talked about, viciously)

Interestingly enough, I had an experience this morning on social media that wasn’t a surprise, but I don’t understand why–I’ll never understand why, to be honest–people from my past think it’s okay, when I’ve not interacted with you at all in the last forty years, to suddenly pop up and pop off in a horribly nasty way about the right to choose…particularly coming from someone who never told girls he had herpes (and other STI’s), and loved to get girls so wasted that he could fuck them while they were barely conscious. Yes, I have no doubt that you’re a pathetic MAGA freak now–because if you don’t believe women are human beings, and you remember all the shit you pulled in college, the only way you can justify that shitty conduct is by blaming everyone else for your entitled male bullshit behavior…and I hope you don’t have any daughters.

That’s part of the reason I despise Justice Cavanaugh so much; watching and listening to his testimony was a one-way ticket back into the past of my college days, and I could easily picture the vast majority of my fraternity2 brothers being grilled by Senator Harris and having to resort to frustrated tears because boys will be boys goddamnit!!!!

Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be reexamining college with the same distance and understanding I have been trying to bring to the other dark times in my past any time soon.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Pay-the-Bills Day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later.

  1. He was definitely one of my favorite writers; sometimes his columns would be the only thing in Vanity Fair I read in that particular month. I also loved the novels. ↩︎
  2. A tale for another time, for sure. ↩︎

The ‘In’ Crowd

The last few days…let’s just start with saying that there is a lot of garbage on social media. The Katrina anniversary is always a bit hard for me, but has gotten easier over the years. I’ve even gotten to the point where I don’t even think about it until the anniversary posts and photos of the disaster start showing up on my social media feeds. I am also writing a book set during hurricane season and opens during a tropical storm/Category 1. So seeing people troll people’s posts about it is, frankly, disgusting. There was one particular bitch from Bryan, Texas, who took it upon herself to reply to everyone’s comments on a particular thread posted by one of our local television stations, memorializing those who died. Almost all the response comments on said post were from people who lived through it, commiserating and remembering their experiences and how terrible it was. This bitch responded to every one mockingly, saying things like if that was the worst thing I went through I’d consider myself lucky or Tell me why you’re not still over this minor interruption and so on. She had MAGA written all over her profile and personal feed, of course, because the cruelty is what they love about their movement.

And of course, another Southern white woman writer (not in the mystery community, but part of Louisiana’s) who has always been lovely to me1 in the past posted one of those “don’t lose friends over two politicians who don’t even know your names!” which always pisses me off, because the only people who ever say that don’t want to be judged for being horrible human beings. That is a red flag for me, always–no one who ever truly cared about anyone other than white people would never tell marginalized people to overlook the fact that people think we are subhuman.2 I basically said something similar on her post, basically “tell me you’re okay with racism and homophobia and misogyny” and unfriended her. Then one of her “friends” responded to me with some seriously despicable homophobia. Horrible stuff, on her wall…and she responded to other people after the homophobe came for me, but didn’t say anything to the homophobe, which…she’s perfectly okay with homophobic attacks and language from people she knows…which makes her human fecal sewage.

It shouldn’t bother me at sixty-three, but I don’t need to know anyone who is okay with homophobia. So, local Louisiana author, let me say this to you: you’re a disgusting piece of shit, a Klanwife who is perfectly okay with bigotry and hatred while pretending to not be one of those people, and I should have known you were a homophobe because of the hideously ugly wigs, the trailer trash eyebrows, and the Ross Dress for Less fashions you buy in sizes too small. And I’ve noticed you always slightly smell of urine.

I did post something on Facebook–not that I was angry about it, but I was more disappointed than anything else, not only in her but in myself, and of course I got a lot of sympathy and friends who want to ride at dawn, which is lovely but completely unnecessary because, my friends, most of you have never even heard of this woman. In fact, I met her through people who are my friends, or at least nice to me. I doubt I will ever see her again (see footnote about TWFest), but I will stick to my usual “I don’t even acknowledge trash humans” if we ever are in the same place. And I’m not hurt or upset or anything about it. It’s not the first or last time a Southern white woman I’ve known has turned out to be a Klanwife.3 They’re just better than their men at hiding it in polite company.

It rained all day yesterday and we were in a flood alert, which was lovely. I didn’t leave the house other than taking out the garbage. I spent the day doing my work-at-home duties and some chores. This morning I have an appointment to get my COVID booster and need to pick up a few things here and there around town before coming home for a day of football. Huzzah! I did write some yesterday, but not much, but any progress is progress, and I also started thinking about how to make the book better and more of a challenge to write for me, which is very cool.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up to get my day rolling. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and will most likely not be here again today, most likely. You know how much I love college football! GEAUX TIGERS TOMORROW!

  1. Surprisingly enough, I’ve gotten to the point where I forget writers are nice to me because they want to be a part of the TWFest and for no other reason. Guess who will never be on a panel now? ↩︎
  2. And that’s the language I’m using from now on–because that’s the core of white supremacy; everyone who isn’t white or Christian is subhuman. Tell me you’d happily enslave people without saying the words. ↩︎
  3. There’s also this whole thing where people to excuse conservative women for their horrendous beliefs (similar to sympathies for Melania Trump or Usha Vance, but I will tell you this, from years of experience: conservative women are not controlled by their husbands, and are often much worse than their husbands–which was the real lesson to be taken from Gone with the Wind, frankly. Melanie and Mrs. Merriwether and Mrs. Meade and Mrs. Elsing and all those women would be MAGA today. ↩︎

My Girl

Work-at-home Friday this morning, and Sparky let me sleep a little later this morning before getting insistent (the swipes at the face have claws out more). So here I sit, with my first cup of coffee and the weather is supposed to be cooler today; we’re having a cold front. Hilariously, the local weather source I use said today is “false fall” because it’s only going to be ninety…temperatures here are definitely skewed over what most of the rest of the country experiences. I also slept very well last night, deeply and restfully and through the night, which was lovely and kind of why I feel so good this morning. I have some things to get done around the house today in addition to my usual work-at-home duties, and some errands to get done later as well.

The DNC concluded last night, and while the evening had a different vibe than the rest of the week, it was lovely seeing the Exonerated Five calling out the demented Martyr of Mar-a-Lago did my heart very good (reminder to self: watch When They See Us) and the Vice-President’s acceptance speech was incredibly powerful. There were other speakers–the young Black congressional candidate from Alabama was amazing; as was Elizabeth Warren (and it was great seeing her get her flowers from the crowd)–and so were many of the others. I feel very hopeful about the future for the first time since November of 2016, and that’s saying something. It isn’t going to be what we hope, and the Republicans will fight her agenda every step of the way with their lies and smears and general awfulness; those of us who can remember the rise of the racist Tea Party will have to continually remind people of who and what they are. The MAGA movement has always been toxic and most Americans have always seen it that way. But like the Know-Nothings, the Whigs, and the Federalists, MAGA just needs to die, and can we but hope that this election will finish that anti-American racist movement once and for all.

A fine example of how awful they are is their reaction to, and treatment of, Gus Walz; whose emotions overcame him during his father’s acceptance speech, burst into tears as he jumped to his feet with love and pride and shouted “that’s my Dad!” on camera. Anyone who saw that and wasn’t moved and touched touched by this testament to the strength of their family love (and what amazing parents the governor and his wife are) is a soulless, craven monster. The same people who’ve been screaming that “Barron is off limits!” (as were the Bush twins) but then went after a seventeen-year-old? You’re trash, and Barron is no longer off-limits, as far as I am concerned; these are the same people who called Amy Carter ugly and Chelsea Clinton the White House dog…not to mention all the racist hate they threw at the Obama girls. Imagine being raised in the Trump family; what choice did the kid have to be anything other than a sociopath like his tragic older half-siblings?1

But we’re supposed to ignore the Right’s children and leave them alone, like the sociopathic Palin children, or Lauren Boebert’s felon son “because the kids are off-limits” until a new Democratic candidate comes around with kids and the story about politicians’ kids change.I am tired of Republicans and the media holding the Democrats and the left to a standard of behavior that is never applied to the Right. They are literally the biggest hypocrites of all time, and it’s past time they get dragged for the filth they are. Ann Coulter’s attack (now deleted) on Twitter about Gus Walz was about what one can expect from the talking heads on the Right. MAGA already hates her for turning on Trump, the Left hates her because she’s always been a horrible woman, so who exactly is listening to her nowadays anyway? She never is on television any more because no one wants to watch, and she’s no better than the irrelevant TERF bitch in Scotland. I can only imagine the kind of toxic environment/household she grew up in. I had started writing a book a while back where I killed off a Ann Coulter-type character; I’ve hated that woman for years. Maybe I should find that manuscript…

This weekend my goal is to do some reading and writing. I can’t believe it’s almost Labor Day already. I’m not sorry to see this brutally hot summer come to a close (I never am) and of course, I love the fall, with the cooler weather and it being football season. Plus, I can no longer use the heat as an excuse to not get things done!

And on that note, I am heading back into the spice mines to get my work-at-home duties completed. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back later.

  1. And for the record, I am also tired of people making victims out of Republican wives. They are exactly where they want to be. Melania could have left at anytime, and so could Usha Vance. But they are craven grifters just like the men they married. They deserve no consideration from us. None. They are not women like Hilary Clinton or Michelle Obama or Rosalynn Carter. They are the modern-day equivalent of Klan wives who falsely accused young Black men and got them lynched. Save your sympathies for the women he assaulted. ↩︎