Category: culture

father’s day 2026

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Not my direct family, but man, it’s funny how everyone says happy Father’s Day to a person, then curls the corner of their mouth in a snide rebuff, at the word step.

Here’s to all the men who stepped in when the biological fathers could or would not.

You deserve to be recognized, and not given the proverbial asterisk.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1791 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Night Shift, Stephen King
Comics: Grifter v3 14-16, WildC.A.T.S. v6 1
Music: From London To Jamaica, The Clash

trying to remember kindness

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This is a tough world in which to focus on kindness. I try to, but my frustration with our current political climate and people’s unfortunate behaviour makes it difficult to find sympathy.

It’s very easy to retreat.

Crippling depression and overwhelming stress doesn’t help. When one is in crisis, doing the extra for others seems a step too far.

But perhaps that’s when we need it most.

(What we really need is for someone to show us the same grace in return, but let’s face it – this isn’t that kind of world, and that’s a rare act.)

As someone who has dealt extensively with depression, I can confidently say that most kindness is tempered by judgment.

Oh, I’m so sorry, honey, maybe you should just buck up.

I feel you and what you’re going through, but maybe if you weren’t depressed, you wouldn’t have this problem (no shit, Sherlock).

He’s having a hard time, but he brought it on himself.

Etc., etc.

Do not temper your kindness with judgment; just be there. Give the hug. Hold the hand. Help clean up. Make a casserole.

Listen. Don’t be a jerk.

After all, better out than in, and judgment forces the latter, intentionally or otherwise.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1354 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Night Shift, Stephen King
Comics: Voodoo v2 12, 0, Grifter v3 0, 13
Music: From Here To Eternity Live, The Clash

toxic masculinity

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There’s nothing wrong with strength, but posturing is never truly the mark of a strong man.

Indeed, kindness, compassion, sober second thought – the ability to see perspective and to act on a combination of conviction and data (never blinding oneself to what is for the sake of dogmatic ideals) – these are the hallmarks of a strong person.

Those who would sublimate themselves in order to help someone in need.

Those who show kindness to anyone who needs it.

Those who would stand up for those that need their help, regardless of the consequences to oneself, in the face of the laughing masses.

That’s fucking strength. That’s “masculine” (and really – it’s everyone. Nothing in this precludes anyone of any gender to be any of this – good and bad).

Anyway, that’s my point.

It takes more courage and strength to be soft and kind than it does to put up walls and pretend to be hard (and if you’re truly hard, well, then, why would we venerate you? As the Tao puts it – the hard and stiff are disciples of death; the supple and flexible are those of life.)

(Paraphrased, obviously.)

Corpses are rigid, and only move at the whim of others as they decay.

Life moves in an intricate dance, wills and choice mingling, and isn’t it better to dance well with your partners, than do the meathead thing and forget that a mosh pit isn’t sanctioned bullying; it’s energetic celebration.

Kindness isn’t toxic; neither is it feminine.

It’s human, and a fully obtainable ideal.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1130 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Night Shift, Stephen King
Comics: Voodoo v2 10-11, Grifter v3 11-12
Music: From A Basement On A Hill, Elliott Smith

hard decisions

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You ever find something you love, that you’re really into, but the time sink is just too much with everything else you need/want/have to do?

I feel that way about baseball. I love the old game, the strategy, the drama, the fact that everything can change with one great pitch or one great swing or one great play (or one big fuck-up, to be fair).

But I can’t do it. It’s too much. It’s too much of a time sink. The stats, the game length, the fact that it’s three hours a day every day for almost half the year… would that I had nothing else in my life, but I do.

My love of ball is less than my love of reading. Or writing. Or love.

Such a shame is life.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1938 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Well Of Shiuan, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: Voodoo v2 8-9, Grifter v3 9-10
Music: Frogstomp, Silverchair

leave ’em lying

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The rule down south now. Hell, anywhere right wing leaders are – they lie, lie and lie some more, and someday, someone’s going to leave them lying.

It’s what happens to all fascists in the end.

Chickens come home to roost. Houses made of cards collapse, and pretending to be humble, aw shucks or bombastic “the big lie is the best lie” won’t mean a goddamn thing.

They’re doing it to themselves. They could stop their downfall, but they don’t want to – this is a death cult, squeezing every last bit of misery they can, for the personal profit of their own power and their own pockets.

I preach kindness and pacifism; I preach fortitude and no compromise with bigots and authoritarians.

There is no grey area in dictatorships.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1446 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Well Of Shiuan, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: Voodoo v2 4-5, Grifter v3 5-6
Music: Friends, The Beach Boys (not today)

the world’s first trillionaire

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People seem to think this is some kind of achievement; I think it’s a crime and an illusion.

He doesn’t have a trillion dollars laying around. It’s all made up money, floating around in the ether with no actual value.

Take away the stock market and what’s this guy got?

What’s SpaceX actually worth to humanity? Tesla makes some of the worst electric cars out there – there are far better options.

Twitter? A fucking joke now.

This guy can and has contributed a negative value to the world. He may be a trillion dollars on paper.

In reality, he’s just some fucking asshole who thinks he’s far better than he actually is.

He is a net minus, in every way that matters, save in a made-up high score in a virtual game for rich dicks, all of whom pretend that worth on paper is the same as actual worth.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 2280 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Well Of Shiuan, C.J. Cherryh (I have been waiting to get back to Morgaine with great anticipation.)
Comics: WildC.A.T.S. v5 30, Grifter v3 1-2, Voodoo v2 1
Music: Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables, Dead Kennedys

the official word

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I’m sick of draws. Every once in a while is fine, but come on.

Let’s have a winner sometime; and let’s make it the good guys (or gal, as the case may be).

Target: 1600 words
Written: 3611 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: In Search Of The Castaways, Jules Verne
Comics: WildC.A.T.S. v5 22-25
Music: Freaky Stylely, Red Hot Chili Peppers

ugh

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I love Doctor Who and Tom Baker in particular, but The Talons Of Weng Chiang?

Yikes. Racist.

It’s got Leela at her best, however, so there’s that.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1134 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Coppermine Journey, Farley Mowat
Comics: Wildstorm Revelations 2-5
Music: Frank Sinatra Essentials, Frank Sinatra

you know what?

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That was cruel. Even though Billy Joel is the worst, it’s not my place to tell people what they like and don’t like. Challenge them by exposing them to better (much better), sure.

But outright condemnation and insults?

That’s beneath us.

Sorry, kid. That was rude. I won’t yuck your yum, even if your yum is a bland piece of unseasoned chicken breast, boiled for too long.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1349 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: The Black Unicorn, Terry Brooks
Comics: WildCats Nemesis 7-9, WildC.A.T.S. v4 1
Music: The Fragile (Left), Nine Inch Nails

linguistics world/view

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I was watching a webcast on the preservation of indigenous languages (as I am wont to do) and a very intelligent federal employee by the name of Mandy sent my mind spinning in a manner few have lately.

It was her assertion that language and culture often have a symbiotic (my words, not hers) relationship, that language forms culture and culture language, that got me thinking, but another participant’s story about how frustrated she’d gotten with her grandfather in trying to translate some from his language to English (I’m sorry, I don’t remember the language now), and how he’d responded.

She wanted a word for resilient, a straight, word-for-word translation and he wouldn’t give it to her, because it doesn’t exist; in his language and culture, resilience wasn’t just a label, an assigned word; like many other things, it required description to truly carry the essence of resilience. A tent that stands up to Arctic winds without tearing. A man with the strength to travel weeks on end to his deer meat caches in order to feed his family in the winter.

That’s resilience. And it struck me that describing things that way resonates the actual meaning so much more clearly than a simple word can. It isn’t literal, as her grandfather told her; it’s felt sense.

Mandy’s assertion from the shores of Great Bear Lake were that in her culture, language comes from a different place, a different method of thought. Because in her culture, when one speaks and acts, when one considers their lives, it’s never, as it so often is in Western culture, and white North American culture (American culture), about solely you. Every thought, every communication, every action; it’s all in context, with the understanding that we are not separate from the world; we do not live in void. Our actions, our words, our thoughts – they happen as part of the larger universe, of the larger world, the larger community.

The larger family, even.

So, when we speak and when we act, we act and speak with all that in mind. And their language reflected that; the concepts, the methods of speaking, were reflected in the words and style. Her assertion was that these concepts, this language, needed to be taught, so that the culture of understanding where we exist in the world, that we are a part of it, and not separate from it, would not be lost in this me-me-me society we find ourselves in.

It was a wonderful truth, and I agree – the more we think in terms of ourselves as part of the greater picture, and not as the whole world, the better off this world would be.

(And yes, I recognize the irony/hypocrisy of not knowing what the languages were; I could find them again, but after three days of trying to get to this, I’m squeezing it in where I can, and I’m not in a position to research it just this second – it came from a work site, and I’m not able to log in – I’ll post it later when I have the chance to find it, in addition to any resources I can find that might help keep these languages alive).

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1279 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Castle Of Wizardry, David Eddings
Comics: WildCats 3.0 24, Warblade: Razor's Edge 1-3
Music: The Four Lads Greatest Hits, The Four Lads (I think there's five of them)