Fiction!

 But I wrote it last night, mentally, and now I'm not interested in writing it down. My best bet might be to have nothing planned or plotted at all. I'd like to deal with fairly ordinary people in a fairly ordinary town set sometime in the fifties, and have amazing and disturbing things happen to them. And in other cases, in the same sort of setting, I'd like to deal with such people except that they would have a lively imagination and huge ambitions, and in yet other cases I would like to deal with very alienated and withdrawn characters who would be mad as hatters by any definition. And grotesque distortions of the world we live in are not out of the question. I wonder how blogger would deal with that sort of thing. I doubt that blogger would allow me to be as explicit as I would like. That could be a problem. I thought the place where all of my characters live ought to be referenced as: "Onlyville-- a DAMNED good place to raise your kids up in!" But that would not be very original and I don't want to rip off Frank Zappa's "Two Hundred Motels". But each story would be centered on one individual in this specific community. And if all these stories turn out to be tasteless and over the top, well, why not? Meanwhile it will be a hot day here but the front hits sometime late today or early tomorrow and the rest of this month might not be bad at all. 

There is nothing at all tidy, neat, delicate, or moral, or tasteful, or refined about life, is there? It's pretty much a brutal and nasty business, isn't it?

Lubbock Power Outages

 The city just loves to tax and spend but they don't want to put a dime into existing infrastructure or city services, which are pretty abysmal. We have far too many power outages. Had one this morning that only lasted a second or two but that was enough to knock my computer down and force me to do a lot of resetting. This is a middle class neighborhood, though, so I don't think they give a damn. In rich parts of town, these things don't happen. Well, the typical church around here will preach that if you aren't very wealthy, it's only because God doesn't love you , and you're going to hell, so why worry when ordinary folks get screwed over? It's just God's will. Chosen vs not chosen. Cut and dried. Calvinism in action. Another way of saying: Fuck you. I've got mine, Jack. In fact, the only message that modern Christianity really has to offer, is a hearty fuck you to 99% of the human race. If there's a way to say FUCK YOU in Aramaic, then I imagine that Jesus said FUCK YOU to almost everyone. Oh well. See, the above is what I would put into a fictional character's mouth. Sort of. That fictional character would be deeply into prosperity gospel, would get off on the idea of killing the homeless, killing the sick and weak, killing people of color, and then go off to a big rich church to congratulate himself or herself on being one of the chosen few, the elect. "Thank you Lard, for making me better than everyone else. Thank you for making me rich and freeing me from the burdens of conscience and compassion, and empathy-- all those un-American and demonic things." And then in my fictional world such people would suffer amazing misfortunes and end up maimed and mutilated and disfigured, buried alive, but not before screaming in agony, eaten by vermin, by worms, by dogs, and only then pushed into mass graves, ALIVE, to be covered up under piles of excrement, and forgotten. Of course, it would HAVE to be fiction because things like that don't happen in real life. 

Nice Sunday morning. Lots of vigils and special services and homage being paid to Mr. Kirk. I did not attend. The throngs of people were just too enormous. I have a thing about crowds. 

We Are Done For

 Proclamations have replaced laws, This is starting to look a lot like Rome under the emperors. And both houses of congress are looking more and more like the meek, powerless, Roman senate. If we had an Augustus, this phase of our decline might not be so bad, but we don't have an Augustus. We have something more in the mold of Tiberius. No Nero or Caligula yet, but... just wait. 

I'd like to try my hand at writing fiction. From time to time I will provide a specimen, maybe in the form of a character I'm developing.  I've started "winterizing" the private garden, and I might as well call it my secret garden. My late wife did. I like the idea of such a refuge. Lentils and rice today with chicken breast in tomato sauce, with seasonings of Turmeric, Curry powder, Chili paste, garlic, onion, and paprika. I like my lentils al dente, and the rice is a mix of white and brown. I know it will be delicious. Pineapple for dessert, maybe topped with plain yogurt. 

It ought to be clear to all, that our republic is dead, as dead as the Roman Republic. History repeats itself. 

More Talk More Picture

 September is progressing nicely. It is approaching winter in this sick and misshapen land, with its twisted values and ugly malice posing as virtue, but I wonder whether it was ever anything else, at any time in its history? Was it just that the sickness and diseases of mind, of heart, of spirit, were there all the time, just not quite so obvious, and maybe so well integrated into the ordinary lives of people, that it did not stand out, and was then accepted as the norm? And I suppose when evil is once again the norm, part of one's quotidian day, nothing will appear out of place. I'm in no position to change the course of history. The species has a trajectory in a kind of phase space of many, many, variables. and the outcome is more than likely predetermined. No fool's errand for me. I'm old, I sometimes wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled, and no mermaids will ever call to me. Let the sirens sing for others, then. I have not much to do today, having done so much, but when it is truly cool enough for heavy work outdoors, I have many projects that must be completed. I have decided to stop clearing the land. Let what is dead accumulate, I say now. In my old age I seem to be turning Goth, of all things. 

If a gathering darkness of the mind must snuff out the light of reason, then so be it. In the very long run, it simply won't matter. Nothing will matter, nothing endures, and the heat death of the universe is simply inevitable. I can live with that! Sic Transit Gloria Mundi!

Oh Yeah

 I'm so old I remember Eisenhower running for president, the Berlin Airlift, the start of the Korean war, Queen Elizabeth's coronation, Disneyland under construction, among other things. I recall iron lungs, seeing children with braces on their legs, adults using metal crutches after a bout with Polio. And I strongly suspect that Polio will return, given the antivaccination sentiment so that will be a blast from the past. Of course I remember very well the Cuban crisis when nuclear war seemed immanent. And on and on. We have a weak norther today but heat will return for the weekend in advance of another system that will drop temps a bit more. Rain chances are not good but the playa lakes are in great shape. Maybe I will discover that I have not much to say. It seemed to me yesterday that I had things to say, but much of what I am likely to say will be quite nihilistic and pessimistic, and sarcastic. And yet life goes on, until it doesn't. Death seems to me to be a very, very, good thing, and birth not so much a good thing, and perhaps even a very sad and unfortunate thing. I seem to be out of step with the vast majority of my fellow human beings, and that has been the case as far back as I can remember. I'm used to that by now. I'm sure that I will have more to say in the future.