I'm pretty sure that I do not actually hate Alabama. It terms of physical geography and wilderness, it's a beautiful place. Fabulous geology and paleontology. For an area its size, Alabama has the greatest diversity of turtle species found anywhere on Earth. I think what I hate is all the goddamn Alabamians (the ones who aren't turtles). And Alabama culture, which, of course, is merely the primary and highly toxic waste product manufactured by all the goddamn Alabamians. Georgia's not much better. It's just that most of Atlanta exists in a weird dimension somewhat out-of-phase with Georgia proper. You can live here and pretend you're somewhere else. Some of us pretend we're in LA, and others of us pretend we're in San Francisco or Boston or Chicago. Being pretty much devoid of any identity of its own, Atlanta is ideal for this sort of thing. I think a few people have even managed to convince themselves Atlanta is Miami. Me, I just pretend it's not in Georgia. But, sadly, Alabama has no Atlanta equivalent. Anyway, regardless, I have to
go to Alabama today. The trip has been delayed as long as I can possibly delay it. I have not been back there since April 2006. I'd hoped to go a full year this time between visits. Alas, that is not to be. It has become a Necessary Expedition. We may be back tonight. We may not be back until Friday evening. I cannot yet say.
stsisyphus has written some very cogent observations on "A Season of Broken Dolls," one of the two stories from this month's
Sirenia Digest, which you may read at
species_of_one (the cogent observations, not the story itself). It's quite useful when, as happens only very occasionally, a reader or reviewer writes something about one of my stories that teaches me something about what I've written. I have a feeling that's the way it's supposed to work, but hardly ever does.
Not much to yesterday worth writing down here. The end result of the Forced and New Consolidated marches was sent off to my editor at HarperCollins. Kathryn and I had a decent enough walk. Last night, we watched E. Elias Merhige's
Shadow of the Vampire for the first time since we saw it together way back on February 2, 2001. It's still a wonderful film, an utter delight for the eyes. And I started reading
Bones of Contention: Controversies in the Search for Human Origins by Roger Lewin (1987). Not much else worth reporting.
Two of
the current eBay auctions will be ending tomorrow, including the copy of
Candles for Elizabeth and "On the Road to Jefferson." It will likely be a while before I can offer either of these again.
Okay. I have to go help Spooky pack and get Hubero ready for cat gaol. And ram a fork in my left eye.
Comments
I think a few years in Birmingham would improve your opinion of Atlanta. Mostly, I find Atlanta to be generally indifferent, which is a vast improvement.
Ah, okay. In that case, my answer would be no, I don't think it's possible. More's the pity.
and now that the march has concluded, can details be given?
Nope. Not yet.
Armadillos, coyotes, opossums, raccoons, deer, dogs, hawks, vultures, foxes, turkeys, the usual.
Oh, and red necks.
May it be easy on you.
Yet I'm one of those people that enjoy different cultures, diversity and am more open-minded than most people around me, (at least I like to think so.) I'm Wiccan, married, have lived in Europe and enjoy both Atlanta and Birmingham. I love the kudzu, the red clay, and Mt. Cheaha. I've never seen sunsets more spectacular than I've seen from the hilltops here in AL, and that includes Florida.
Now, when you say you hate Alabamians it hurts my feelings. You know as well as I do that not everyone everywhere is the same. I know there's idiots in Atlanta. All one has to do is read the Blotter portion of Creative Loafing to find that out. I hate the way some GA folks drive, but then again I know that not GA people act as if they drive with their feet. Please don't assume that once you cross the AL/GA state line that we are all banjo-playing yahoos or intolerant rednecks. There are plenty of us who would disagree.