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On this day in 2014, I wrote, "Today is the 25th Anniversary of the World Wide Web. Which sort of makes it the 25th birthday for one stage of the apocalypse." This past election, the role that Wikileaks and Russian hackers, Julian Assange and bots, trolls and internet slander and fake news played, proved me dead on the mark. I'd hoped I was only a crank.

It's sunny and very cold. Currently, the temperature is 18˚F, with the windchill at 3˚F. We're waiting on the storm, on much more snow.

Yesterday, I typed up all the corrections for "Objects in the Mirror" and sent them away to Geralyn at Subterranean Press, and then I spent about two and a half hours on corrections to Chapter One of Interstate Love Song, but still didn't get through all the marked changes. I think it's time I set this chapter aside, stop trying to get it perfect, and proceed to Chapter Two. Except, first, I'm going to write something for Sirenia Digest #134. I can't write summer in Mississippi during a blizzard in Rhode Island, not and do it right, and I won't try.

"Were I the wind, I'd blow no more on such a wicked, miserable world." ~ Moby-Dick, Herman Melville

I really don't think that I'm a radical anything. Though I do get pretty fanatical about...well, actually not that, either.

I've begun reading Cormac McCarthy's The Crossing (1994). Lately, McCarthy is one of the few authors I have any use for. Though Herman Melville is another.

Last night, all the country went back on Caitlín Standard Time (aka Caitlín Stabilizing Time, CST), which makes everything simpler.

I promised photos yesterday, of yesterday, and here they are:

Resistance, Peace, and Compassion,
Aunt Beast


Mar. 12th, 2017 07:54 pm (UTC)
The Road,
Current Music: Cat Stevens - Where Do The Children Play, Carole King - Jazzman

Post-apocalyptic fiction, when so much seems lost already if I slip out of the fugue that normally protects me. Freud thought the depressed were usually realistic.

But hope springs eternal. Part of why the dark side is risking so much and fighting so dirty is that it can see its defeat coming. That's not just a feeling, it's demographics.

The movie cost me so much to see, I'm staying till the very end.

‘caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare’ -Audre Lorde

“When our days become dreary with low-hovering clouds of despair, and when our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, let us remember that there is a creative force in this universe, working to pull down the gigantic mountains of evil, a power that is able to make a way out of no way and transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows. Let us realise the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.” - MLK

I digress, the two books I thought of are A Canticle for Leibowitz, and one that reminded me of it, The Great Bay: Chronicles of the Collapse, by Dale Pendell. Science fiction with a capital S.