Last night I spent two and a half hours writing the first CV of my life. When you see it all in spelled out like that, even I admit that it's amazing everything I have done since 1978.
Nothing else worth mentioning about yesterday. I do have a couple of things I said on Facebook and Twitter that I will put here:
We have seen growing evidence that the dangers to our country can come, not only across borders, but from violence that gathers within...There is little cultural overlap between violent extremists abroad and violent extremists at home. But in their disdain for pluralism, in their disregard for human life, in their determination to defile national symbols, they are children of the same foul spirit.
And it is our continuing duty to confront them. ~ George H.W. Bush
My actual job definition, as much as I ever will have one, is to say what I think, to be honest and to convey thoughts that I find worthy of conveying, and to piss people off and make them think and inevitably, if unintentionally, to defy their expectations. Yes, I may often be wrong. But I have to speak my mind and ignore fear of recrimination. That is my "reader-writer contract." Yes, it may lose me Facebook followers. You think I give two shits and a wet fart about that? Well, I don't. Period.
I posted the latter after ten people "unfriended" me for favorably quoting Bush.
Toady, I talked with (by email and Twitter DM) Adiel Klompmaker at the University of Alabama Museum of Natural History, and also Drew, and also Jun. Oh, and Geralyn Lance about the dust jacket for Cambrian Tales. I am actually a lot more communicative these days.
I am spending a lot of time constructing the opening scene of The Night Watchers in my head, but it's time to stop that and actually write.
I did some good work on the Winifred jacket today.
Have I mentioned how much I like Billions? Part of it is how much I enjoy just watching Paul Giamatti do his thing, though the cast in uniformly superb.
That said, please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Rent must be paid. Taxes, too. And people gotta fucking eat. Unlike all those Millennial and Gen Z folks quitting their jobs for some hypothetical something better, I got this one thing I can do that people will pay me for. Ever. Thank you.
I have to wonder if some of these people never learned that work is rarely ever satisfying or life-affirming or whatever, which is one reason it's called work. Me, I suspect a lot of them have never been genuinely poor and just grateful for a week-to-week paycheck. The Great Resignation (id est, the Big Quit), indeed.
Mx. Dinogorgon rubidgei (below) says I better fucking get off my skinny ass and organize my JVPs by year or my face will be bitten off. Protomammals don't mess around.
Later Tater Beans,