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: Flick Of The Switch, AC/DC (that's how fast it will happen)

eight-hundred-ninety-seven

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That’s how many days since I first sat down and said, “I’m going to try this writing thing,” and put together a haiku about birds falling as a metaphor for our blind spots and was promptly rejected by a magazine that prints exclusively haiku, because I hewed too close to the five-seven-five rule, even though I made it split-sentence run-on, for literary twist.

That’s how many days since I started thinking about monsters under the bed, which led to more short stories about misogyny, a comic about a woman’s revenge and her self-persecution, one about astronauts saving the world by killing innocent aliens, and a book about the Odd Couple, if the odd couple were virtue signaling hypocrites and MAGA monsters.

Eight-hundred-ninety seven days since I wrote down thirty-seven book ideas, a baker’s dozen comics, and vowed to write as many short stories and poems as I possibly could.

And still, I don’t have the guts to send them out to publish.

What is wrong with me?

Wait, don’t answer that. I already know.

I’m scared.

Rejection is the worst feeling. You’re the hero of your own story, tossed away like a background extra cut from the final scene in someone else’s.

My step-son did that once; he and a friend were extras on some dance movie. His friend was considered good-looking enough to make the background cut. My step-son danced for hours to never even get in the frame.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1563 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Well Of Shiuan, C.J. Cherryh (I'm in love all over again)
Comics: Voodoo v2 2-3, Grifter v3 3-4
Music: Fleetwood Mac Essentials, Fleetwood Mac

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: Flashpoint, The Rolling Stones

happy anniversary, baby

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17 years and it feels like nowhere near long enough. We’ve been through so much, been so many places and come so far. I can’t imagine what I’d have done without you.

One thing’s for sure; it surely wouldn’t have been anywhere near as pretty.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 742 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: In Search Of The Castaways, Jules Verne (and there it is, the cannibal savage trope)
Comics: WildC.A.T.S. 26-29
Music: Flag Of The Shriners, State Radio

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: Fizzy Fuzzy Big & Buzzy, The Refreshments

it’s the middle of the night

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And I’m awake with heartburn from… *checks notes*… shepherd’s pie.

What the actual fuck.

Target: 1600 words
Written: 1563 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: In Search Of The Castaways, Jules (you know, as questionably racist as Five Weeks In A Balloon was, it was actually really nice to see Verne openly showing compassion for the aboriginals of Australia, and how the white man was responsible for their destruction.  Unexpected anti-racism in a book from 1867.)
Comics: WildC.A.T.S. v5 18-21
Music: Fixed, Nine Inch Nails