"Show me yours and I'll show you mine. Meet me in the woods tonight."
A sunny day that became overcast and thunderous, then partly cloudy. No rain yet, I don't think. Our high was 93˚F, with the heat index reaching 100˚F. Currently, it's 92˚F, with the heat index at 97˚F.
Happy World Lizard Day.
I cannot say I accomplished much of anything today. I did manage to finish Michael Caldwell's paper, "A challenge to categories: “What, if anything, is a mosasaur?” (from Bulletin de la Société Géologique de France [2012] 183 [1]: 7-34), which is much food for thought. I just wish I could think more clearly. My whole life is built on the process of thought, both abstract and objective, both artistic and scientific, and I feel like, presently, I can hardly remember how to open a jar of peanut butter. Oh, and I emailed Geralyn Lance at Subterranean Press, answering a question she had about Cambrian Tales. No, that really does not count as work. Kathryn and I spend a lot of time bitching about Southern politicians and the people who keep them in power and the mystifying and deadly Southern response to COVID-19. We are trapped together in this house. More than sixteen months now. What the fuck are we supposed to do?
I was gonna post a bunch of stats about infection rates in Alabama and Louisiana and Florida, but...I'm just not up to it. I cannot affect the world out there. I can only sit back and watch. Sure, I can scowl about the horrific mess we've made pulling out of Afghanistan, and I can complain about the blind eye most of the world turns to climate change. But I cannot affect the world. I sit here waiting to get sick, hoping that I will not.
That is life, what life has become.
A 7.2 earthquake in Haiti, when they haven't recovered from the 2010 earthquake.
It has been a very long time since my depression has been this bad. It's a black curtain I cannot find my way through. And, I think, it is an entirely rational reaction to the suite of disasters unfolding around us, worldwide, many of them unprecedented in modern history. I will never again see a return to the world that was my world. It breathed its last gasp sometime in 2016, I think, as Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump set about tearing America in half. It is a million shattered shards of a carelessly dropped glass. It's the demolition of a china cup hurled at a wall. It is mistaking disintegration for revolution. It is greed and hatred, xenophobia, the rise of a new fascism, the triumph of pseudoscience and conspiracy theory over science and reason.
It's real.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:54
Oh, and it's allowing technology to call the shots...
Happy World Lizard Day.
I cannot say I accomplished much of anything today. I did manage to finish Michael Caldwell's paper, "A challenge to categories: “What, if anything, is a mosasaur?” (from Bulletin de la Société Géologique de France [2012] 183 [1]: 7-34), which is much food for thought. I just wish I could think more clearly. My whole life is built on the process of thought, both abstract and objective, both artistic and scientific, and I feel like, presently, I can hardly remember how to open a jar of peanut butter. Oh, and I emailed Geralyn Lance at Subterranean Press, answering a question she had about Cambrian Tales. No, that really does not count as work. Kathryn and I spend a lot of time bitching about Southern politicians and the people who keep them in power and the mystifying and deadly Southern response to COVID-19. We are trapped together in this house. More than sixteen months now. What the fuck are we supposed to do?
I was gonna post a bunch of stats about infection rates in Alabama and Louisiana and Florida, but...I'm just not up to it. I cannot affect the world out there. I can only sit back and watch. Sure, I can scowl about the horrific mess we've made pulling out of Afghanistan, and I can complain about the blind eye most of the world turns to climate change. But I cannot affect the world. I sit here waiting to get sick, hoping that I will not.
That is life, what life has become.
A 7.2 earthquake in Haiti, when they haven't recovered from the 2010 earthquake.
It has been a very long time since my depression has been this bad. It's a black curtain I cannot find my way through. And, I think, it is an entirely rational reaction to the suite of disasters unfolding around us, worldwide, many of them unprecedented in modern history. I will never again see a return to the world that was my world. It breathed its last gasp sometime in 2016, I think, as Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump set about tearing America in half. It is a million shattered shards of a carelessly dropped glass. It's the demolition of a china cup hurled at a wall. It is mistaking disintegration for revolution. It is greed and hatred, xenophobia, the rise of a new fascism, the triumph of pseudoscience and conspiracy theory over science and reason.
It's real.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:54
Oh, and it's allowing technology to call the shots...