Tag: Putin

Don’t Walk Away

Well, good morning, Thursday, how are you doing today? Yesterday wasn’t a bad one, frankly. I woke up before my alarm, feeling very well rested, and went to work. I also had a good day at the day job, which included getting some things taken care of, and I took care of another (non-work related) task over my lunch break. I did get a little tired in the late afternoon, but it wasn’t a big deal and I also had to run an errand on my way home, too. I worked on the book some, but wasn’t really feeling it a lot yesterday. I’m a perfectionist, of course, and I’d rather not write something I know is terrible, but that’s what the next draft is for, too. I need to really get out of my own way sometimes. Sigh. WE also watched the season finale of Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which was excellent, and set up a second season perfectly, which I didn’t see how they were going to manage, but they did. Highly recommended, of course. I slept decently last night, too, even if I did wake up a few times. I’ve not slept through the night in a while, actually; something to discuss with my doctor the next time I see him…which reminds me, I have a new doctor. Sigh. My previous doctor, whom I really liked, moved away and I am being reassigned to someone new. I hope this goes better than the last time my doctor moved and I was reassigned to a homophobic quack whose idea of being my doctor consisted of oh you’re just getting older, which led to my ulcerative colitis going undetected for years, and of course the misdiagnosis of my bicep tear, which resulted in a minor surgery becoming a major one….and the UC worked with the surgery to keep me weak, fatigued and brain fogged. I really should have sued him for malpractice; multiple medical professionals have told me that–which is frankly rare, as they tend to close ranks against outsiders, just like the police.

Sigh.

It looks like Ukraine is kicking the shit out of Russia now, and more power to them, as Moscow and St. Petersburg burn, their energy production has been crippled, and they are being driven out of Crimea, after a 12 year illegal occupation. I also appreciate that, unlike their foes, Ukraine isn’t targeting Russian civilians. How much longer can Putin hold on to power? A defeat in Ukraine and a surrender would probably do the trick–but I think he’ll hold on until his own people and/or military rise up against him. I highly recommend Vlad get the Romanovs-in-a-basement-in Ekaterinberg, but of course, your mileage might vary.

I am feeling a little spacy this morning, which is to be expected; it’s Thursday and I am slowing running out of steam like I always do on Thursdays. I have an all-day staff development tomorrow, which is mostly a training that we usually do at our own pace in free time during the work day. I hope I won’t be sleepy! I’m going to stop and make some groceries on my way home tonight; and I need to put the clean dishes away and take out some trash. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get some writing done as well. I am enjoying myself writing now again, and it’s something I wish I could dedicate even more time to; but I also like that I’ve somehow managed to wean myself out of the 3k a day binge writing I’ve done for so damned long. I want to finish Chapter 4 before planning out the next four chapters; because I am not entirely sure how it’s going to go from there.

I’m trying to not talk about politics on here anymore–if you don’t know where I fall politically by now, you really should do something about your lack of reading comprehension skills, although I imagine it’s too late for those kinds of considerations at this point. But JFC, how is this not the worst possible timeline? An exploding diarrhea pandemic? This is what happens when you vote for a narcissistic sociopath who thinks anyone is qualified for a high-level public service job as long as they lick his ass and pretend he won the 2020 election. Tonight he is going to put out some baseless claims about the 2020 Georgia elections, in particular the two senators who won–one of whom was reelected already, and the other is looking damned presidential already. Why people continue to attach themselves like remoras on a great white shark to FOTUS’ ass, but here we are.

Newsflash: he’s never cared about you, he never will care about you, and his autopsy is going to show an almost entirely smooth brain.

And here locally, our governor, Janky Jeff Landry, has decided to come for New Orleans because he and his should-be-disbarred piece of shit Attorney General filed criminal charges against her…newsflash: being Attorney General means you enforce the law equally, not target your political foes. Janky Jeff actually said this week that “New Orleans thinks it’s special” and “New Orleans isn’t the primary economic engine in the state anymore.” Would that be because of the fucking data centers that nobody fucking wants in Louisiana except for Janky Jeff and the donors who own his crusty unwashed ass? If New Orleans is so fucking unimportant now, Janky Jeff, why don’t you keep your crusty unwanted ass out of our city? No, you bring important guests to New Orleans all the time. You come to every big sporting event at the Dome–Super Bowl, Sugar Bowl, etc.–and love to eat our food and show off our city but then you’re going to shit all over it? Fuck you to the moon and back, you piece of shit. So Louisiana no longer claims the Saints? The Pelicans? Carnival? Jazz Fest? The billions in revenue New Orleans tourism brings?

By all means, Janky, take your VIPs to Shreveport or Lake Charles or Monroe. That will sure impress the hell of them. You’re doing such a great job as governor, too. How has anything he done improved life for any one single Louisianans? I’ve got time, I’ll wait, cuck boy. Take all the time you need.

Louisiana deserves better, and I will laugh my ass off if the recall petitions for him and his bitch AG succeed and they get voted out.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I hope I’ll be able to get my entry finished before the training tomorrow morning. Until then!

Sigh, Italy.

Valleri

And here we are on a Thursday morning. I kept getting confused yesterday about what day it was (all day) but that’s disorientation caused by working a full week in the office for the first time since maybe June? I don’t know, it just seems like I’ve had more time off over the last month or so than I usually do. Of course, I could just be a chowderhead who doesn’t remember anything anymore, but let’s hope this is not the case. I felt tired yesterday when I got off work, and had thought about heading uptown to run errands, but by the end of the shift I just decided to head home and do all of that tomorrow1. I am feeling tired this morning, and am waking up slower, which seems more normal than how I always feel tired at the beginning of the week and feel more energized as the week goes on. We’ll see how the coffee works this morning.

Ironically, I already feel more awake this morning since typing that sentence, which is very cool. I think we’re going to be slow today so I can get caught up on a lot of my paperwork and Admin duties.

We had a downpour last night–no thunder that I heard at any rate–and we caught this week’s Presumed Innocent, which was the finale. Spoiler–they did change the ending, despite the fact that the original book and movie are so old I doubt anyone has read or seen it, and those who did have forgotten, but I did wonder why they were redoing this if they were going to use the same big twist. I was on Youtube catching up on the news and also watching analysis from Generation Z political pundits–I really enjoy seeing young people so interested and so involved, and I see them getting really involved now, which is awesome. I have a very good feeling about this year’s youth turnout…and the kids are mostly not conservatives. I didn’t write last night because I was tired, which is shameful…but like I said, I was tired and Sparky was feeling playful. I should have known that once I get wrapped up in Sparky-time I wasn’t going to get anything done. I didn’t even do the chores I needed to do last night, and will have to do tonight instead. I also have to run those errands tonight after work, too. Heavy heaving sigh. I also need to make a to-do list for the weekend. I am doing pretty well with getting things crossed off the one I made for this week; which just goes to show how important making a list is for me. (The coffee is working, but I am fatigued and will be exhausted by the time I get home. DAMN YOU YESTERDAY GREG!)

I also plan to watch the President’s address to the nation last night at some point over the next few days.

I have to say I’ve been delighting in social media lately, which is a very odd feeling. Since Sunday night, my social media feeds have been absolutely delightful. Someone said they were joy-scrolling now instead of doom scrolling, and I have a feeling this is going to be very different this year. The Left is energized, and the MAGAts ain’t got nothing besides name mispronunciations, calling her a whore, and a “DEI hire.” Um, you claim she slept her way to the top–does that mean she fucked the over seven million voters who voted for her in the Senate election? And the mobilization of the HCBU’s and the Pan-Hellenic council? I think the American public–the majority of it at any rate–hates the ugliness and the smears and the slanders. For the MAGAts, nastiness and jeering mockery is the appeal. They feel like they’ve been overlooked and mocked and by gum, them libtards are going to pay! Engaging in a battle of wits and scorn with them is a complete waste of both our times, really; I’ll always go lower but smarter. On my way home from work yesterday I saw one of those Viagra trucks–you know, the ones that start at $70k and are basically luxury cars with a bed instead of a trunk, and cost about $100 to fill the tank weekly? His back window had a massive TRUMP decal across the top, with Make Liberals Cry Again. Usually I just roll my eyes and pity the women in his life; or get super irritated. Yesterday I laughed at his impotence. The truck at least had mud spattered all over it, so it actually is a utility vehicle for him rather than cowboy cosplay (which is what it usually is). Yesterday it just made me laugh, as I pictured him out in his yard with a razor scraper taking that off in November, red-faced and furious and thinking the country is doomed. GOOD.

Make liberals cry again. Like MAGA is the fucking adult in the room rather than a toddler throwing a tantrum blaming everyone else for their problems. It wasn’t liberals who took an electoral loss so badly they stormed and vandalized our nation’s capital, but sure, we’re the crybaby sore losers. Sorry you all are incapable of rational or logical thought, and are so narcissistic and self-absorbed that you vote against your own best interests as long as you think you’re screwing a minority. You really want no more social security or Medicare?

There’s no guarantee, of course, but there are just over a hundred days for them to smear the Vice-President. They don’t have thirty years of baked-in smears and lies like they did with Hillary Clinton. All they have is racism and misogyny and insults…no policy except the vague, broad descriptions of how beautiful and perfect everything will be, as corporations and oligarchs get even more tax breaks, with the full burden of taxes falling on the working and middle classes. Foreign countries didn’t fear and respect him, no matter how many times Sean Hannity trots out that sad, pathetic and tired trope. He was, and is forever, Putin’s bitch, and there’s a Russian thread through their entire party. They cozy up to Putin and Russians (Look at Moscow Marge 6B’s, proudly spouting Russian talking points), and how is that in our best interests? Would Ronald Reagan buddy up to Putin?

Not in a million fucking years. I can only imagine Nancy Reagan, rebranded as a high-brow sophisticated society matron from the lot-whore she was in Hollywood in the 1950s, sitting down to dinner with the Trump family. (Best potential SNL sketch ever–wait, no. Second best, because the best would be the dedication of the Trump Presidential Library.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Thursday. I may be back later, but you never can be sure.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

  1. And yes, this morning’s Greg is really annoyed at yesterday afternoon’s Greg. ↩︎

Up the Ladder to the Roof

It’s a gray Saturday morning, and my body clock has definitely reset. I woke up just before six again, wide awake, but stayed in bed for another hour (just like yesterday). I don’t feel as energetic as I did yesterday, though; but I have things to dig through and work to do and lots of coffee on-hand for fueling. But that’s okay; I don’t have huge plans for the day. I am going to start doing some editing, I am going to work on my short story a bit, and i am going to spend some more time with Kellye Garrett’s Like A Sister, which will be my reward for getting the other stuff done. I need to go make groceries at some point this weekend, just haven’t decided which day to do that. I also need to go to the gym, maybe later today. There’s always organizing and cleaning to do, too.

In other words, another normal weekend around the Lost Apartment.

But that’s cool, I suppose. Trying to do normal things helps me deal with the over-all concern about the world burning to the ground around us, which sometimes makes doing anything feel completely pointless. (I do remember all the hesitation from people in December about trying not to get thrilled or be happy that 2021 was coming to an end; we all felt that way every December for several years only for the new year to be even worse than the one before. Looks, sadly, like those people were right.) It’s a weird place to be in for someone my age, or in my generation, or those of us who remember the world before the collapse of the Soviet Union. I’m sure many of them, like me, had forgotten what it was like to live under the daily threat of nuclear annihilation and the end of civilization as we’ve come to know it. But that’s what we did back then–we went about our daily lives with that worry in the back of our minds at all times. I remember the amazement and joy when the Berlin Wall came down, and Germany reunified; part of their punishment for causing World War II and uncountable war crimes was allowing the Russians to basically split the country, turning East Germany into a communist satellite state while West Germany became a democracy and joined NATO and the west–basically for protection from a Communist takeover. I don’t miss nuclear apocalyptic fiction and films; Neville Shute’s On the Beach was such a bleak read, and the television movie The Day After was also dark and hopeless. There was an abandoned nuclear missile base about two or three miles from my high school in Kansas (which I’ve always wanted to write about); I remember there was a PBS documentary that aired when I was in high school about nuclear war, which was also the first time it ever crossed my mind that Kansas, of all places, would be a strategic military target for the Russians (because of all the missile bases spread across the prairie), they even named the closest town to the abandoned base as a target (Bushong, Kansas, population 37 at the time). And of course, The Day After made that very clear, as it took place in Kansas City and environs. Testament is another bleak film about the aftermath of nuclear war; and I remember reading another book, War Day, by Whitley Strieber and someone else, set about twenty years after a nuclear war between the superpowers. We used to learn about all kinds of things, like the electromagnetic pulse (the detonation of a nuclear weapon in the atmosphere which somehow–I don’t remember how it worked–rendered anything requiring electricity to cease working), often simplified to EMP. We were taught that iodine helped with radiation sickness, along with the grim knowledge that those killed instantly were the lucky ones. Apocalyptic and dystopian fiction used to be about the aftermath of nuclear war.

I didn’t realize how lovely it had been to be able to push those concerns completely out of my mind.

And what unique privilege it is, to be so consumed with worry over what may happen that might affect me and my life, while people are literally being slaughtered by the minute and large cities are being bombed and shelled ruthlessly and refugees are fleeing by the hundreds of thousands.

And there are other atrocities occurring around the world that aren’t being reported on, or covered as widely by the western media–primarily because the people being slaughtered or bombed aren’t white.

The great irony is that we consider our current civilization as the apex of humanity thus far–that civilization continues to evolve and grow less barbaric with the passage of time, while knowing that future generations will look back to our times and wonder what the fuck was wrong with them? How could they not see how fucked up the world was, and do something about it?

What is happening in Ukraine is just another chapter in the never-ending on-going series of books showing how incredibly inhumane humans are.

I don’t know what’s going to happen over there, and I worry that a peaceable resolution is not possible. I don’t see how Putin can possibly survive this, and he is a desperate thug with a massive Napoleon complex. I don’t know how many Ukrainians have to die before the rest of the world says enough. I don’t know how you get a madman with a nuclear arsenal to stop making war on civilians.

So, I just keep going. I get up every morning and have coffee. I check my emails, read some, delete some and reply to others. I check the news to see the latest from the front. I work on day job responsibilities and my writing and MWA business and edit. I do my dishes and clean my house and cook dinner and try to read to take my mind off the nightmares unfolding in the far corners of the world. I donate what I can to relief efforts. Little things, here and there, to cope with a reality that is incredibly worrisome and stressful and so overwhelming that I can’t allow myself to spend too much time going down that road–because I have the privilege to not have to be concerned about surviving today’s bombings. I have food and medicine and access to services. I have power and water and a working car. I have resources to draw upon. I am lucky.

I create. I write novels, fictions which may or may not have any meaning, trifles that can serve as a distraction from the worries and cares of a burning world over which I have little to no control. I have always been hesitant to use the word art when it comes to my writing; I’ve always felt that it isn’t for me to decide whether my work is art or I am an artist. But literature is a form of art, so therefore by extension my work is art and I am an artist; whether good or bad, important or forgettable is for others to discuss, debate and decide. But one of the foundations of civilization is art; art can survive the centuries and epochs and tell future generations stories about the times in which we live, to give them context for our civilization and our country and what we do and how we live. Fiction can educate and distract; it can provide a needed distraction and escape from the horrors of reality and provide comfort and joy in times of stress and terror. I have always escaped into books, and as a writer, I can also now escape into worlds and characters of my own creation. Reading and writing have always been my escapes; and now, more than ever, those kinds of escapes are necessary.

So, writers–we need to keep creating even as the world burns. There is always a need for beauty and truth, especially in times like these. And with electronic books–our words can now last for eternity, forever–or at least as long as civilization as we know it exists. I have no crystal ball; I do not have visions–although there have been times I’ve felt like Cassandra screaming on the walls of Troy, ignored and mocked as she tells them their future and of their folly. I do not know how this will all turn out, I do not know where we will be tomorrow or the next day. But as long as I have the ability to do so, I will keep working. I will keep making to-do lists and crossing off the tasks as I complete them. I will go on, living my life and doing whatever small thing I can do to try to keep the light burning. I will always try to make sense of the senseless, and I will always keep going.

No matter how dark the world might seem, no matter how much suffering we have to witness.

And on that somber note, I am going to dive into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and hope you and all your loved ones are safe and secure, and continue to be.