"I met my love by the gas works wall."
Partly cloudy at the moment, but there's snow coming, two to six inches by tomorrow. Currently, it's 24˚F, and the windchill is at 9˚F.
Today will mark the eleventh day since I left the house. My record is fourteen.
Yesterday, I did another 1,597 words on "Tupelo (1998)," and it replaced "Bainbridge" as the longest Dancy Flammarion story. Current, the ms. stands at 17,188 words, and today I'm going to find THE END.
Spooky made chicken and rice and Brussels sprouts for dinner. I watched a documentary on the history of rock climbing, then we watched another on the Barkley Marathons. Then we started watching Aaron Sorkin's The Newsroom for a second time. We originally watched the series in the winter of 2014-2015, and at the time I expressed my great admiration for it. Nothing has changed, except all the things it warned us about are coming true. It has proven an amazingly prescient thing, The Newsroom, a flashing warning sign that no one heeded.
And then we got the news that the Horror Clown had fired the Acting Attorney General, Sally Yates, for failing to defend his lunatic immigration policy.
I posted this to Facebook last night:
See, here's the thing. I honestly believe that there's a very good chance that at some point within the next four years there will be an executive order signed by Herr Horror Clown declaring my existence, and, indeed, the existence of anyone like me, illegal. I'm waiting for the detainment camps for those declared "undesirable" and stripped of their citizenship. I think that illegal and unconstitutional action is being taken against voters to insure that this ghost of the fallen Republican Party will remain in power indefinitely. And that's just the itty-bitty tip of the iceberg of what I honestly believe, based on the events of the past week. And I have to try to work and sleep and eat and go through my days with that knowledge. Just like a lot of other people. That's where I am tonight. But at least we're safe from Hillary Clinton's emails.
Resistance, Peace, and Compassion,
Aunt Beast
Today will mark the eleventh day since I left the house. My record is fourteen.
Yesterday, I did another 1,597 words on "Tupelo (1998)," and it replaced "Bainbridge" as the longest Dancy Flammarion story. Current, the ms. stands at 17,188 words, and today I'm going to find THE END.
Spooky made chicken and rice and Brussels sprouts for dinner. I watched a documentary on the history of rock climbing, then we watched another on the Barkley Marathons. Then we started watching Aaron Sorkin's The Newsroom for a second time. We originally watched the series in the winter of 2014-2015, and at the time I expressed my great admiration for it. Nothing has changed, except all the things it warned us about are coming true. It has proven an amazingly prescient thing, The Newsroom, a flashing warning sign that no one heeded.
And then we got the news that the Horror Clown had fired the Acting Attorney General, Sally Yates, for failing to defend his lunatic immigration policy.
I posted this to Facebook last night:
See, here's the thing. I honestly believe that there's a very good chance that at some point within the next four years there will be an executive order signed by Herr Horror Clown declaring my existence, and, indeed, the existence of anyone like me, illegal. I'm waiting for the detainment camps for those declared "undesirable" and stripped of their citizenship. I think that illegal and unconstitutional action is being taken against voters to insure that this ghost of the fallen Republican Party will remain in power indefinitely. And that's just the itty-bitty tip of the iceberg of what I honestly believe, based on the events of the past week. And I have to try to work and sleep and eat and go through my days with that knowledge. Just like a lot of other people. That's where I am tonight. But at least we're safe from Hillary Clinton's emails.
Resistance, Peace, and Compassion,
Aunt Beast