Silence is golden some may say, some may say.
Well, I say silence is an aimless time to kill.
It's a restless feeling pounding on my brain both night and day,
And these old wheels of mine spin louder as it builds. ~ Orange Mandolin ( Read more... )

Mostly sunny today. This morning there was light snow across part of northern Alabama. We reached 52˚F. The terrible cold has passed.

I woke to anger, and it really hasn't let me go. It wavers somewhere between clarity and incoherence.

I'm sick of this world. Sick of the 21st Century. I'm sick of the whining on the Right and the Left. I'm sick of ( Read more... )

Sunny and warmer still today. We reached 82 ( Read more... )

Here in Providence, it's a balmy 22˚F, but that's okay, because the windchill is 18˚F. I won't have to worry about heat prostration this afternoon. Unless it's the sort of heat I feel when I'm months behind on finishing a novel. And stuck. Anyway, here is the white desolation of the Armory, as of sunset yesterday. It looks a lot like the inside of ( Read more... )

I hereby declare that if the "world" should actually "end," as all those amusing morons think it will, I shall stop writing.*

Meanwhile...

Yesterday, I wrote 2,507 words on Black Helicopters. I'm relieved to be writing solid, substantial, dense text again. Joyously, unashamedly tough text. Prose that makes both me and the reader work. Blood ( Read more... )

Keaton Henson - Small Hands from Blink on Vimeo.

I'll be idle in my ideals,
think of nothing else but I.
I, and I.