Tag: military

Heaven Knows

Sunday morning and I am up early again after another lovely night’s sleep. Sparky is feeling feisty this morning after his breakfast–I noticed yesterday how clawed up my right knee is, since that’s the leg he always attacks and tries to climb while I am working on my desktop–so I have a lap blanket to cushion the claws a little bit. It’s my desk chair; he feels very territorial about sleeping in my desk chair after I go to work in the mornings during the week day and I am actually messing with his normal daily routine. Sigh. But I have work to get done today, around reading and cleaning, so he’s going to have to go sleep on the couch.

Yesterday was pleasant. I felt good in the morning after I got up, and did some cleaning. I read some more of Moonraker (astonishing how different the books are from the films) and started The Get Off, which has one of the best openings I’ve come across in books for quite some time–which is saying a lot, because I’ve read some pretty fantastic books lately–and am looking forward to reading some more of it today. I do need to get some writing done today. I wrote a lot yesterday, which was kind of fun, getting back into the swing of things. I wrote a very lengthy letter yesterday, which I will mail tomorrow, and then I worked in my journal for hours, brainstorming and figuring out how to fix things I am working on and what needs to be done. This morning, after reading and getting cleaned up, I’m going to get a story revised and then dive back into the book some more. Deadlines are looming, and the festivals are next weekend (AIEEEE!!!) and I still haven’t figured out a lot of that stuff out yet. Heavy sigh. I hope it’s a calm day at the office this week that doesn’t wear me out too much so I can get all this heavy lifting done.

We also watched the LSU Gymnastics team power to a second consecutive SEC championship meet in a row, which was very exciting. It was a close meet, but LSU broke 198.00 yet again, and the top three teams (Oklahoma and Florida being the other two) didn’t really have their best meet, either. And now it’s on to regionals and nationals. It’s funny how ever since that bitch on the Oklahoma team flooded social media last year with clips of LSU’s gymnasts and claiming they were being over-scored…Oklahoma hasn’t beaten LSU once. Karma is absolutely a bitch, and frankly, I’ve hated their team for its poor sportsmanship ever since–and their bitch of a coach could have stopped that skank from publicly being a piece of shit any time she wanted to, but she didn’t, and she’s theoretically the grown adult in the room, so the Oklahoma athletic department put their stamp of approval on that gymnast’s trashiness. So, fuck you now and forever, Oklahoma.

We’ve been watching Paradise on Hulu, which is nothing like I was expecting it to be. All I knew going in was that it starred Sterling K. Brown playing an agent on the President’s security detail…but the show is very clever and has lots of twists and surprises…as well as Julianne Nicholson, who is becoming one of my favorite actresses, in a stunning performance as a tech billionaire with delusions of grandeur (sound familiar?); we have two more episodes to go, and we’re really enjoying it a lot. Highly recommended, and a lovely distraction from the country’s acquiescence to authoritarianism.

I hate to break it to everyone, but it’s already here. Undesirables are being shipped to prison camps in another country. Companies and universities are giving up their freedoms and bending the knee to an illegal presidency and an even more illegal regime. We were doomed when Merrick Garland slow-walked everything, the Supreme Court colluded on immunity1, and it was very clear that it was the intent of the Biden administration to not go after the criminal syndicate that preceded him in office, which also belied their own claims on the 2024 campaign trail–and they wonder why the Democratic Milquetoast Party’s approval ratings are in the toilet? They rolled over and let this happen to us all. And after spending an entire election season warning us about the rise of fascism, suddenly it’s here and their position is “oh, well, we have to work with them”–don’t ever ask me for a fucking dime again. From now on, I only am donating to specific candidates, after being betrayed by so many once they were in office (looking at you, Schumer and the Asinine Nine); why is it important to elect rollovers like John Fetterman or Schumer or Gillibrand? If they’re going to vote with Republicans against the best interests of their own constituents and country, why not just let the Republicans just have the seat in the first place? And the complacency of the Democratic base has a lot to do with that. I’d still like to see an audit of Kyrsten Sinema’s professional and personal accounts.

But by all means, let’s just surrender the country. Fuck off now and forever, Chuck Schumer. We already live in a dystopia, can we at least count on you to not make it worse? Oh, silly me, your rich donors mean more to you than your base, how could I forget? I certainly never thought I’d see the day when NEW YORK’s senators would fuck over the entire party.

And on that cheery note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll shout at you later, okay?

  1. I suspect there were things discussed privately, or that the Supreme Court had decided in the past out of the public eye, about immunity that we are not privy because STATE SECRETS. This ruling also ensured Bush II would never be charged for his administration’s war crimes in Iraq and Afghanistan. I also believe that when we targeted and assassinated Yamamoto during World War II crossed a line.Yes, it was war…but a targeted assassination approved by the White House? I’m sure it was not either the first or the last crime authorized by the executive branch. ↩︎

All Too Well

Saturday morning, and there’s sunlight streaming through my windows–a lovely change from the majority of mornings this past week. I overslept this morning, something that has been happening with greater frequency over the last few weekends, but I also have been staying up later than normal and having trouble falling asleep when i finally do go to bed; I may have to change my pre-bed routine and go back to reading a bit before tumbling into bed. There was some study I read several years ago that indicated the light from screens made it harder for one’s mind to relax and turn off before bed, making sleep even more elusive than it already is for me.

The last thing I need in this world is to make it harder for myself to fall asleep.

I also realized yesterday afternoon when I finished work that I’ve been depressed for well over a week; going back to the week of my birthday. Depression is rather sneaky that way; I always forgot just how sneaky and malicious it actually is. You don’t have to feel sorry for yourself or have that ‘woe is me’ consciousness; it can manifest in being tired, having little or no energy, no desire to do your work, and thinking okay if I can just make it through this day. I literally felt myself come out of it, physically and emotionally, last evening after I finished my day’s work; the swing back to I can conquer the world was so palpable I actually can tell you what time it happened: 5:27, as I was loading blankets into the washing machine. These swings used to be much more obvious and apparent, and maybe…maybe I need something stronger than what I am taking to control all the chemical imbalances in my head. I don’t know. I worry so much about addiction that I am not even certain I should be taking the medication every day, and I also sometimes think I should take a week to wean myself off of it, to be certain, but then I remember that one of the symptoms of not taking the medication is an inability to sleep and like I need anymore assistance in THAT area.

It also never helps to have hurricane season amp up during the Katrina anniversary week. Sigh.

So, in this week’s film festival:

I watched Midway, the 2019 film about the climactic battle in the Pacific Theatre of World War II, which was the first American victory over the Japanese in the war and a major turning point; military historians consider it one of the most important naval battles in history, along with Salamis, Lepanto, and Trafalgar. I generally don’t watch war movies–I’ve never really cared for them much, and while I was watching Midway I realized why: I despise, and have always despised, toxic masculinity, and war movies are all about that amped up, testosterone driven macho bullshit. The main character of the film was someone who made me extremely uncomfortable with his posturing and, for want of a better term, dick-swinging; it wasn’t until he finally realized his posturing had resulted in the death of one of his airmen that he started to get it, and softened a bit, and became more likable (I also realize that this macho attitude is undeniably necessary for soldiers and the military; these are people who are putting their lives on the line and it really is a matter of kill or be killed; the problem is that it is incredibly difficult to shed that kind of training when you’re not on duty anymore or a civilian again, not to mention the PTSD). It also wasn’t until the end of the film, when the characters were shown as played by the actor with the story of what happened to them in their lives later, and the actor morphed into the real person on screen, that I realized that almost everyone in the movie was based on a real life person, not just the big admirals and so forth; that did make the movie a lot more powerful as I realized that not only was what I had just watched a fairly accurate depiction of the historical battle, but the individual experiences of the actual men who fought it. It’s a gorgeous film with stunning visuals, and the Pacific Theatre of the war never gets enough credit or recognition from us–we tend to remember the war primarily as being against the Nazis and the battle to free Europe from the Germans; bit the Pacific Theatre of the war is just as compelling, and the opening sequence–the horrific bombing and slaughter at Pearl Harbor–was just horrible to watch (one of the most moving experiences of my life was my first visit to the Arizona cemetery and memorial out in Pearl Harbor, where the water is so clear you can see the ship resting on the bottom, and oil bubbles are still escaping from the wreckage).

Yesterday I watched Blade Runner Final Cut  as part of my Cynical 70’s Film Festival (and yes I know it was released in 1982, but I consider it to be one of the last films that count as a Cynical 70’s film), and was most impressed. Rutger Hauer, of course, stole the film completely, and it was also a bit funny to me that the movie supposedly was set in 2019 (what an enormous disappointment 2019 turned out to be, given how Ridley Scott originally saw it forty years ago); visually it’s an amazing film, and I can also see how the visuals and art design of the film has influenced filmmakers ever since–the constant darkness and rain in Los Angeles (I kept thinking it’s rained more in this movie than it has in Los Angeles in the last year) reminded me of the  Alien film franchise and Altered Carbon and any number of other films. It was also interesting to see Sean Young and Daryl Hannah in the roles that first really brought them to audience attention–Sean Young was on the brink of major stardom for a while until she got labeled “troublesome and crazy; makes you wonder if she refused to fuck Harvey, doesn’t it?–and of course, a still young Harrison Ford just owns the screen. The concept behind the movie was interesting as well; it made me want to go back and read the source material (I’ve not really read much of Philip K. Dick, and given how influential his work was…yeah), and I still might. I bought a copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?–great title–a few years back, but I can’t seem to put my hands on it now.

We also watched two documentaries last night: Class Action Park, about the exceptionally dangerous water park in New Jersey and the Showtime documentary about the Go-Go’s,  The Go-Go’s. Both are excellent and I do recommend both; I’ve always wanted to write about an amusement park–I have a short story somewhere set in one based on the old Miracle Strip in Panama City Beach–and still might; I’d hoped to do a Scotty book back before Katrina set in Jazzland, which is now, of course, a derelict ruin. The Go-Go’s, of course, were and remain one of my all-time favorite bands; I still listen to their music today and of course, contributed my story “This Town” (one of my favorites) to Holly West’s anthology Murder-a-Go-Go’s.

So, I am now awake after two cappuccinos (Gosh, why do I have trouble sleeping? A mystery for the ages), and looking ahead, there’s a lot to get done for me this weekend. I am way behind on both emails and the book, and of course I want to start reading Little Fires Everywhere, and the filing! Good lord, the filing. I also need to make notes from All That Heaven Allows, the biography of Rock Hudson I recently read as research for Chlorine, so I can return the book to the library this week; and it wouldn’t hurt to go through Tab Hunter Confidential and at least mark the pages that would be of use to me later.

We also finished watching The Case Against Adnan Syed, and I definitely have some thoughts and opinions about that case and show.

Watching Magic the other day, and a young Jerry Houser’s appearance in a bit role as the cab driver reminded me of another movie from the 1970’s, which I wanted to rewatch to see how it holds up: Summer of ’42, which also has one of the most beautiful scores every recorded (it won an Oscar for Michel Legrand, who composed it). I read the novel by Herman Raucher, and the book and movie are both considered seminal works and examples of the “coming-of-age” novel–and thinking about it now, how exactly would that work out nowadays? The main character was a teenager–15 or 16, I don’t remember which–and he becomes obsessed with a beautiful woman in her early twenties whose husband is off to war; when the husband is killed in her insane grief she sleeps with the young boy, who returns, even more deeply in love with her, the next day to find a goodbye note and her gone. The book and movie are told in retrospect; many years later, as an adult, he returns to Nantucket, still remembering her, and then the story is told in flashback, and then at the end he sadly looks at her old beach house and drives away. This remembrance also reminded me that I had written, as a short story, my own version of the same story–which never really worked–called “The Island”, which I still have here somewhere and could possibly at some point revise and rewrite; the primary problem for me with the story I wrote was the main character was only thirteen–RED FLAG–and just now I figured out how I could revise it and make it work (definitely not with a thirteen year old main character).

I might to actually spring for the $1.99 to rent Summer of ’42 on Prime, and see how, and if, it fits into my Cynical 70’s Film Festival.

And now it is time for the spice mines. Enjoy your Saturday, Constant Reader!

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