I also proofread and sent notes on the final issue of Alabaster: Boxcar Tales, which is, of course, the final Dancy comic.
Cloudy again today. Only 64˚F, but I have my window open, anyway. 59% humidity.
All of the "7" pendants have sold. There will be no more. Ever. But there's good eBay.
Last night, we were supposed to go to the Legendary Pink Dots show in Boston. But Spooky came down with some bug a week ago, and she wasn't well enough last night to make the drive. It's the second show we've missed this month. The first was a Death in June show, which was supposed to be in Salem, but a last minute bit of censorial hysteria left the band without a venue. The show as moved to some dive in Worcester, but we decided to get our money back. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option of the LPD show last night.
Instead, we watched the first four episodes of Season Two of Homeland. The performances of Claire Danes and Mandy Patinkin make the series more than worthwhile.
I'm hoping to get Sirenia Digest #92 out before month's end, which doesn't leave much time. But then I'll actually be caught up, with September's issue coming out in September, opening up the hope that October's will be coming out in October.
Yeah, dull-ass entry. Mostly, that's what I write these days. In part, I know that's because the proliferation of instant gratification sources like Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter have long since distracted the imminently distractible human race from blogging. Readership has crashed. It's hard to get excited about making an entry, or delve very deeply into any subject, when I know there will be only a handful of readers (especially compared to a few years back) and fewer comments. There's also the looming storm of "social media activists" waiting to pounce, though I'm not as afraid of them as many people seem to be. And, too, it's a movement that seems to have seen it's heyday. The world is growing weary of their hatred and vitriol disguised as concern and the fight for justice. But, the upshot is that blogging simply isn't very rewarding anymore. I'm writing this almost entirely for myself these days.
But Skunktaur has a home.*
I miss the late sunrises of western Georgia.
*Postscript: Yes, furries make my skin crawl.