"The sky doesn't doesn't care what my poor heart wants..." (67)
Another sunny early autumn day. Our high was 83˚F.
And this morning I wrote 1,139 words and finished "Oneironaut Collage." As I've said, this is the first piece of fiction I've finished since May, when I wrote Loving a Boy's Adventure Tale. The total word count, before line edits, came to 9,012. It will be featured in Sirenia Digest 200, which will go to subscribers probably on Saturday. This thing's long and will need some editing.
I did a little work on Winifred.
A skipped dinner.
Something I posted to Facebook yesterday: If the Christofascist movement that the GOP has become should come to full power, every advance in civil rights and social justice since this country was founded will likely be wiped out in the space of a few weeks. And rights we have taken for granted, like Freedom Speech, those will go, too. And there will be no recourse, no court to which to appeal, and demonstrations and resistance will result in imprisonment and slaughter. So, until we see which way this thing will go, we need to set aside any and all campaigns that could increase divisiveness. We can come back to those things once this crisis passes (assuming it does). For now, we need perspective. For example, that "Dixie" is part of the Alabama football "fight song" is a tiny, tiny thing as we are faced with the end of our democracy, and it can wait. When the house is burning down, do not worry that you haven't dusted.
And it apparently pissed off some Anglican friar, my warnings about Christofascism.
I don't like that I'm saying these things. I do not like that I have to think these things.
Please have a look at the Big Cartel shop. We're about to have to send pretty much our last red cent away to the IRS, and every sale helps. Thank you.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
6:42 p.m. (Yes, I misspelled the title of the story on the title page.)
And this morning I wrote 1,139 words and finished "Oneironaut Collage." As I've said, this is the first piece of fiction I've finished since May, when I wrote Loving a Boy's Adventure Tale. The total word count, before line edits, came to 9,012. It will be featured in Sirenia Digest 200, which will go to subscribers probably on Saturday. This thing's long and will need some editing.
I did a little work on Winifred.
A skipped dinner.
Something I posted to Facebook yesterday: If the Christofascist movement that the GOP has become should come to full power, every advance in civil rights and social justice since this country was founded will likely be wiped out in the space of a few weeks. And rights we have taken for granted, like Freedom Speech, those will go, too. And there will be no recourse, no court to which to appeal, and demonstrations and resistance will result in imprisonment and slaughter. So, until we see which way this thing will go, we need to set aside any and all campaigns that could increase divisiveness. We can come back to those things once this crisis passes (assuming it does). For now, we need perspective. For example, that "Dixie" is part of the Alabama football "fight song" is a tiny, tiny thing as we are faced with the end of our democracy, and it can wait. When the house is burning down, do not worry that you haven't dusted.
And it apparently pissed off some Anglican friar, my warnings about Christofascism.
I don't like that I'm saying these things. I do not like that I have to think these things.
Please have a look at the Big Cartel shop. We're about to have to send pretty much our last red cent away to the IRS, and every sale helps. Thank you.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
6:42 p.m. (Yes, I misspelled the title of the story on the title page.)