The last few days, a blur of horror and idiocy: a suicidal copilot and the crash of Germanwings Flight 9525, an explosion and fire in the East Village, a censored Batgirl cover, feminists who are frightened by clapping and prefer jazz hands, soaring extinction rates, new evidence that global warming is slowing thermohaline circulation, ISIS and Boko Haram, melting ice caps, Indiana governor Mike Pence and all this anti-gay legislation needed to protect "religious freedom," California's proposed "Sodomite Suppression Act," U.S. House Budget Committee's proposal to eliminate the Institute of Museum and Library Services, and on and on and on, and it all thunders in my ears and behind my eyes.
Hello, humanity.
Where's Louis Armstrong when we need him most?
Yesterday, I worked on Sirenia Digest #110. I'm waiting to see if Vince is doing an illustration for this issue. I also went over Daniel's pencil's for the first issue of Alabaster: The Good, the Bad, and the Bird #1 and sent notes to my editor. It's looking good.
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Should anyone ever choose, for whatever reason, to speak in my defense or the defense of any minority to which I might belong, I certainly will not whine about "denial of agency" and "bad allies." Likely, I will be grateful.
When did gratitude become unfashionable?
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Kathryn and I have decided to aim for Monday for our return to Providence. It's going to be strange and sad, leaving this place behind.
Later,
Aunt Beast