Whaddaya MEAN You've Never Heard of Me?!?

I'm going to be completely selfish in this post. What's new, right?

I am far too young to have lost so many classmates to early death. Sure, I'm almost 50, (well, turning 47 this year, so closer to 50 than 40) and that's a lot more time than a lot of people get. Hell, it might be more time than most people get. I haven't looked it up.

At this point, I went to school with people who died and left behind young kids. Cancer, brain tumors, AIDS, accidents, and a bunch of suicides. Come to think of it, I think I know of more suicide deaths from my peer group than accidents or violent crimes.

Feeling the death of another classmate today.
He was a good guy, never a dick to anyone online--which is a major achievement in my world, since most of the people I know online are the occasional penis-for-brains.
Jim left behind friends and family who are devastated by the loss. I can't even imagine it.

As many of you know, my greatest fear is H dying. When something really frightens me, I sit down and try to think up all the worst case scenarios and figure out what I'd do if they happened. I've figured out zombies, alien invasion, fire, plague, nuclear war, my mom showing up here, and a militia takeover of the state. Damn glad I know people in the militia now.
But when I try to think through what I'd to if H died, all I can see is me sitting in my good chair, staring into space and waiting for someone to notice that they haven't seen me around in a while. Then I'd die. That's not supposed to get your attention or make you feel bad for me. It's rather a crushing defeat to know that after 17+ years with H, that I literally have no idea how I'd manage to live and function without him. Hilariously, most of the people I know have ONLY known me with H. Aside from family and a few classmates I talk to on FB, "Wednes and H" are the only way we exist for them.
So yeah, I have no idea how people pick themselves up and get over it. I'd probably just send messages to Patton Oswalt every day until his agent's assistant's social media manager told me to stop.


As for the rest of life, working on Hellish Calling and dealing with the Radish site not working well, or maybe me not knowing how to work it. Either way, it's slow going.

Whelp, it was fun having a president who didn't make me ashamed to be an American. I mean, look at what we've had to deal with just in my lifetime.

Jimmy Carter was awesome, but treated badly due to his "soft" nature. See, when I was a kid, it was Democrats who said we should be a "Christian nation," by which they meant feeding the poor and housing the homeless. Like many things between Republicans and Democrats, this has completely flipped. Now the GOP co-opts religion for their own purposes, but apparently THEIR Jesus has no interest in feeding people or helping them have homes. Now religion means anti-gay legislation and the closing of family planning clinics. Because...god is love?

Then Reagan. Now, I think he was a pretty terrible president, policy-wise. He funded terrorists and talked a lot of smack about the poor and gays. His wife was even worse. But at least Reagan made rich people pay their taxes. Can't get that nowadays. As much as I disliked Reagan, I wasn't humiliated at the idea that he represented my country.

Bush Sr should never have been POTUS in the first place, mainly because he ran the CIA. That's not cool. If you ever work in a big box retailer, they have a particular way the money is sorted at the end of the day. One guy calculates how much money their should be, while someone else counts how much money there is. This is to prevent theft and chicanery. Apparently, the United fucking States of America needed no such safeguards.

Clinton. Awesome guy, down to earth. Solid policies, great economic growth. All he had to do was say "Actually, what I do with my penis is not relevant to how I run the country. Next questions?" But no...he had to do a stupid lying tapdance that eventually made him a laughing stock. That sucked.

Bush 2. Do I even need to explain this one? He and Rick Perry should do a road movie where they blunder their way across the country, occasionally getting schooled by the people they've sought to oppress.

Obama. *sky opens and rainbows so bright they keep us from seeing all the drone strikes, still open Guantanamo, and lack of single payer healthcare* Yaaaay!!! So eloquent, so unwilling to cheat on his wife, so personable...

And now...this.
I still don't get it. I don't care how poor you are, how angry you feel about political-correctness (AKA basic human decency), or how really racist you are. You'd have to be monstrously stupid to think a man like Drumpf is actually interested in helping the poor and middle class. There is no metric by which Betsy DeVos, Rick Perry, Jeff Sessions, or Ben Carson are good choices for goddamn anything. You might as well put Charles Manson in charge of youth outreach, and maybe Yosemite Sam as a liaison to the NRA.

In other news, now might be a good time to buy a set of encyclopedias. People laugh at having a set of books collecting known knowledge of the world. But see, a set of encyclopedias is a snapshot of the world as we know it. It's supposed to lack bias. But if you've ever read an encyclopedia from say, the 60s, some of the biases are much more evident now. The America we enjoy now and the one we'll be left with in 20/20 may be markedly different. Might be nice to have a hard copy to compare and contrast.

The Good:

I voted. I'm so glad I did, because several analysts have said Ann Arbor was a potentially pivotal factor--as late as 11pm. We lost in the end, but I can at least know that I did what I could.

I'm gratified to see the good guys coming together, vowing to protect the vulnerable--because they're gonna need it. I'm not an especially powerful person, but if I can do something to help you or someone you know who is being oppressed, bullied, terrorized...please ask. I'll do what I can.

The Bad:

Duh, everything about losing two branches of government before they proceed to corrupt the third. I can't even express the disappointment, sadness, and fear I feel. When Obama got elected, a lot of gun enthusiasts were afraid that their guns would be confiscated, and a lot of uninformed (or lied to, Thanks FOX "news") people thought the ACA was going to murder their grandmother. Obama supporters tried to explain to those people that their fears were unfounded, and kind of silly in their unlikeliness.

But now, when Muslims, Mexicans, the LGBT community, African Americans, children, women, and everyone who isn't alt-right says they're afraid--the response from the Drumpf camp is akin to "Yeah, you should be. You people are in for it now."

Watching Trevor Noah and Stephen Colbert both try to put on a brave face was...painful. It hurt to watch. I miss Mitt Romney. Hell, I miss John McCain--and he's batshit now.

Congratulations, America.
You've really outdone yourself this time.

If nothing else, it'll be fun to see the memes you post when Drumpf only fulfills the campaign promises that fuck people over (legally protected bigotry, even further restrictions on abortion, the return of stop-and-frisk), not the ones that help the middle class and below (jobs).

Like most of us, I don't normally answer my phone when I don't recognize the number. But when it rang around 6:45 this evening, I figured it was either a telemarketer I could mess with, or an amusing wrong number. In fact, it was H's Aunt Sherry, who I don't think I'd ever talked to before.

H's grandmother, a lovely woman named Virginia (also a family name in my own family of origin) had died on Valentine's Day. We hadn't heard from her in a few months, and H was afraid to phone because he kind of expected that this was the reason. Yes, I could have phoned as well. I didn't.

I've blogged about H's grandmother before because she was such an awesome lady. Her husband had a stroke a year or so before he died, and she cared for him full time. They'd been together for over 60 years, which boggles the mind. When he died, she never really got over the sadness of it. Her heart had broken. I imagine that's exactly how I'll feel if I'm unfortunate enough to outlive H. It def speaks to my own selfishness how much I DON'T want to outlive my husband.

I didn't realize, until Aunt Sherry told me, that H and I really were in her thoughts often. She showed off all the gifts and cards we sent her over the years, and displayed our photo prominently in her home. When she went into the hospital and then to hospice, she took our photo with her (and the other grandkids) so she could look at us whenever she wanted. Even when she couldn't keep food down, she asked the nurses to apply the lip balms we sent her for Christmas. She had told me once how amazing it was that I knew how to make them. They're embarrassingly easy. I didn't realize this, but a lot of H's family think I'm a great wife and a wonderful influence on him--and that it's great of me to keep in touch with the family on his behalf.

As many of you know, H's mom and I don't see squarely on many issues. So it's nice to know that there are people in his family that are in favor of our relationship. I mean seriously, we've been together over 15 years. Get over it! H's mom is more bossy than warm, and has been married three times that I know of. I often wondered how H managed to be so kind and loving, fair and patient growing up with his mom. Upon reflection, it was clearly Virginia and her husband Fred who modeled for H what a loving and successful marriage look like. I suppose that means that I owe her a great debt.

It's my job to help come up with something for the inscription at the memorial where the ashes of Fred and Virginia will be interred together. I've got a 26 character limit including spaces. We'll see.

Aunt Sherry told me the greatest thing though. Apparently Virginia wanted to be at home among family at the end. But what she actually said was "I don't wanna go out like a punk," which meant she'd go out on her own terms. And she did.
That is just fucking beautiful.

How much more disgusted is it possible to be with one's countrymen? Every time I think I've reached maximum disgust between the Tea Party and all their nonsense, in-your-face gun activists who can't go out to dinner without packing major heat, and Donald Trump being treated as if he's actually a viable presidential candidate--I get schooled on how cowardly and terrible Americans can be.

I know plenty of Christians online and in RL--of all stripes. I know Mormons who think it's their duty to keep having more children as long as they can, even though they aren't able to support them financially. I know Baptists who were taught, and still struggle with, slut-shaming being the duty of any good parent. I know Catholics who honestly believe that using birth control is a one-way ticket to damnation. I don't agree with these things. Frankly, I doubt the veracity of those who claim to honestly adopt these beliefs as part of their worship of a purportedly benevolent god.

But here's the thing: I've been hearing for years now about how we have to do everything the bible says, lest we be immoral. Of course the people who say this don't really mean it--because they wear glasses to church, eat shrimp, don poly-cotton blends, get haircuts, etc, etc, etc. They also don't own slaves or force rape victims to marry their attackers. But hey, we have to follow at least the spirit of the bible, right? For morality? That's why we're supposed to applaud people like Cliven whatever the fuck who trespassed to graze his cattle, or Kim Davis who "took a stand" against those awful gays with all that gayness. It's because of the bible that we have to refuse to make pizzas for gay weddings or rip our kids out of scouts because the leader is gay. It's why Planned Parenthood is getting ridden out of town on a rail despite a profound and immediate need for it. Because Jesus, because bible.

But now...that war orphans, widows, displaced families are desperately seeking asylum--what do we do? "Sorry, all full. Sorry (not sorry) but none of you can come here." Shit, this cowardly bullshit is even coming from the very people who wouldn't even fucking be here if it wasn't for the US taking in refugees. I'm looking at YOU, Ted Cruz, you shrewish sack of crap. And the Anne Frank thing? It's actually true. She might still be alive now if we hadn't wanted to "stay out of it."

If you have honestly informed yourself about the Paris attacks and the overall refugee situation caused by Daesh (which was, in fact, largely caused by the good ol' US of A), and your takeaway is that they're all Muslims which means all terrorists which means GTFO? You are a monster. You aren't living by traditional Christian morality, and you sure as fuck don't believe that #AllLivesMatter despite your insistence to the contrary. As many others have said better than I: By refusing refugees, we are giving in to terrorists. We're giving them exactly what they want.

The "that's too bad, but this isn't my problem" school of foreign policy has been our ugliest export for some time. We fuck with any country that has something we want, claiming it's about 'necessary regime change' or 'exporting democracy.' But we do fuckall in countries where abominations happen all the goddamn time. Why aren't we helping oppressed Chinese workers? Or any of the other non-Paris places that have been bombed by terrorists in the last few weeks? Because we don't actually care about the people in these places. As a nation, we only care about what we can get from them.

The United States of America has the biggest, baddest, most well-funded armed forces in the world. Yet we're cowering in fear at people running for their lives from the very people we profess to hate? Are we really that lily-livered? Where are all the gun-enthusiasts who need fucking rocket launchers and semi-auto machine guns to "protect their families?" Why aren't they standing by the borders, ushering refugees in and offering to dispatch anyone who tries any terrorist shit?
No, I don't think we are entirely cowardly. But I do think we're that hateful. I think we, as a people, are absolutely callous enough to hear about refugees and think "Well who the hell told them to live in [insert godforsaken hellhole here] in the first place?" You know, the same way people say "Hey, if you didn't want to be treated like shit for 50 hours a week and still not be able to afford a doctor, why'd you choose to work at [minimum wage shithole]?"

The response to this refugee crisis is another embarrassingly ugly case of demonizing victims because it's easier to hate than to help. It's simpler to say "Hey, they brought this on themselves," than to say "Holy shit, that's awful--what can I do to help." It may be true that taking in displaced people or donating $50 won't "solve" the problem of terrorism. There will always be disgruntled assholes who think hurting people is fun and use that excuse to advance some bugfuck ideology. But what there should never be, are people who see these atrocities and say "I'd like to help, but helping might make something go badly for me, so I don't think I'll even try."

I've seen the way some of you react when your basement floods. Now imagine that your house was blown up, half your family dead, your son stolen and forced to fight for terror, and you're literally running for your life. Now imagine a bunch of comfy AF Americans sitting amid central heating, watching Netflix and eating food they can drive to the store and get without anyone shooting at them--got it? Imagine them saying that you can't stay in an empty hotel and get a cold shower and decent sleep, because they're afraid you might be the people you're actually fleeing from.
Then tell me you wouldn't fucking hate the people who did that to you.

So if you're saying that, if you're saying anything like that--stop it.
Just fucking stop.

A lot of people I went to college with are mourning the death of a classmate. A lot of the same "so young..." "such a shock," and "How terrible that this should happen to such a [kind description] person" is all over my feed.

I'm not able to get on that train. See, the person in question was a mean-spirited asshole. A goes-out-of-his-way to be cruel to strangers asshole. An I-don't-even-know-you but I'm going to spend a few minutes each week making your life hell, and then when confronted with that fact do everything in my power to pretend I didn't do anything wrong asshole.

To this late-person, I'd like to say, Yeah, it sucks at least a little bit when someone dies. Not only does it snuff out a life that some decent people might care about, but it snuffs out your chance to be a better person. Did you ever try to be better? Did you succeed? I don't know. You were such a fucking asshole to me that after college I made it a point never to think of you again. And I haven't--until I heard that you died. If you have a family, I hope they're taken care of. If you have a god, I hope s/he treats you slightly better than you chose to treat others.

From me personally though, fuck you. Fuck you right in the ear.

I'm about to complain about something. I'm going to ask this one time, that if this is something you do/have done, that you not bitch me out for having the nerve to complain about it. It's something that bugs the shit out of me, even as I realize it is not usually done with cruel intentions. I really, really need to get it off my chest, and haven't blogged about it because someone is bound to get offended.

Within the last two years, seven people I went to school with (I went to two high schools and one college) and 3 others I was friends with since college have died. Cancer, stroke, accident, suicide...one guy just keeled over and they still don't know why. It's tragic, both for the people involved, and for those of us who are forced to contemplate our own mortality.

When this happens, invariably one or more people will contact me asking me to remind them who the person was. No, I don't mean they called to reminisce about moments we shared, or discuss the legacy they left to the world. No, these people are literally saying Oh, that person you're mourning--who was that again? They've totally slipped my mind. Really?

To me, that's just gross. I've stopped answering those Emails all together. Taking the occasion of someone's death to remind grieving people that Hey, they didn't mean shit to me. I don't even know who they are is incredibly insensitive. Not sure why it's okay to be insensitive to me. Have I somehow given the impression that I'm an extremely strong person? I have no idea how that could have happened.

When Phillip Seymour Hoffman died, people actually made shitty comments about him on my page. Everything from "He wasn't that great" to "I don't think I've seen him in anything" or "I hated him in X" or even "Yeah, but do you care about all the other people who died who weren't famous?" Okay, let me say this as calmly as I can. Fuck. You. When I post how sad I am about Rik Mayall, what's the point of interjecting how you don't know who he is, or that he never made an impression on you, or that nobody should care because we didn't know him personally. Someone actually Emailed me to ask if I needed my meds checked, because I seemed so sad. Um, unless you're my doctor, go fuck yourself with your backhanded concern trolling. It's not necessary for you to Tweet to me that if he heard that I died, he wouldn't know who I was. What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?!? Yes, James Gandolfini played a mobster on TV. That doesn't mean if you're sad about his death that you're glorifying the mafia for fuck's sake.

Do people think that's okay just because it's famous people, because we don't know them personally? That implies that we don't get attached to actors, musicians, comedians, or anyone else who creates the kind of work that impacts our lives. Then there's the obligatory "don't be so sensitive," on the rare occasion that I openly take issue with that. Yes, being sad about death is SOOOO inappropriately sensitive, right? That said, I still can't watch Crocodile Hunter without feeling sad, so maybe I'm just a hothouse flower. o.O

Besides, if you're hitting me up on FB or Twitter, or commenting on my blog, or Emailing me--you clearly have access to the Internets. When I was in college, I used to be very complimented when people would ask me random facts they wanted to know. The alternative would have been going to a library or something. Plus, I have a ton of intellectual vanity. Duh. But if you have every answer to every question on earth at your fingertips--why the fuck are you asking me to explain who someone is?

Ultimately, if you don't care about something you see other people caring about--you don't owe anyone an explanation. People are probably not thinking So and so didn't post about Harold Ramis, they must not care about busting ghosts! Whether it's sports or a death or American Idol, There's no need to interject your apathy when people are already hurting (or celebrating--because that happens too, and it's just being a pseudo-intellectual party pooper). Maybe it's not universal to think that kind of behavior is rude, unfeeling, or just completely unnecessary, but I'd be much obliged if everyone would keep it the hell away from me.

On that note, I leave you with one of my favorite bits from The Young Ones. Join us just after Rik accidentally kills Neil and buries him in the garden, where he grows into three Neils.

Okay, one more. Why are the kids crying? Rik is dead, the People's Poet is dead!
But then one sensitive and particularly articulate teenager says How can Rik be dead when we still have his poems?

*sigh* Rest in peace, funnyman. I will never get over not being able to see your performance as Peeves.

Most of you who know me are aware that my initial reaction to sad things is to feel angry. Much more familiar and comfortable. So when I found out that an old ex-boyfriend of mine killed himself, I was pretty pissed. First of all, he had kids who needed him and an ex who, as far as I could tell, was allergic to managing her own life. Secondly, he wasn't dying or in constant pain--which makes killing yourself a cowardly move. Third, he had plenty of judgemental and shitty things to say about me when we were together and I was horribly depressed and suicidal.

One might think I should have more compassion for him, especially given my own suicide attempts. But I don't. I can't. All I can think is Fuck you, you were surrounded by people who wanted to help you and you didn't even try.

I was living with this dude when I began the draft for what eventually became The Finster Effect. He's actually the character Blue LeRoy in that book, as well as Count Drunkula in A Stabbing for Sadie. He never knew it though, that's actually what I was trying to catch up with him to tell him. Procrastination never pays, kids!

Maybe I'm still angry because this guy was drunk, mean, and afraid to leave the apartment without a gun. He carried a .357 in his lunch pail. Seriously. Once, he hit me in the face because I told him if he offered his 10-year-old son drugs again that I was calling the cops. I went inpatient psyche when I lived with him--because I'm not exactly the picture of mental health myself. After we broke up, I had another fucked up relationship that ended pretty badly. Three years after that, I met H and it all came together.

I'm not surprised that he is dead--though I did think it would be from drinking or drunken shenanigans than anything pro-active. His son gave me the news, so I didn't want to ask for details. I'd be surprised to learn that it wasn't a gun-death. His son has depression as well, and I really, really hope he's able to find his way through it. That's the kind of history that should never repeat itself.

I don't even want to consider what it says about me that my overriding emotion here is that I'm glad I got the hell away. How gross is it that outliving someone should be seen as some sort of triumph? My life is far from perfect, and my choices far from flawless--but I am grateful to have a nice life that's full of love. I need to remember that more when I'm having bitchy little fits over shit that doesn't fucking matter.

I was shocked and saddened earlier tonight to learn of the sudden demise of James Gandolfini. Damn. He should have had at least 20 more years of acting ahead of him. By all accounts, he was an awesome guy who was warm and welcoming to everyone. If you heard some crap about how he wasn't--do us both a favor and keep it to yourself, at least as far as this blog is concerned.

Like most people, I will remember him best as Tony Soprano. Soprano was an infuriating character that met a predictable end. But damn, I couldn't stop watching. Gandolfini has been great in lots of stuff, most notably as Juror #6 in Billy Friedkin's excellent remake of 12 Angry Men, and as Carol in the tear-jerking Where the Wild Things Are. When I had crazy mafia dreams about the Sopranos, James Gandolfini was always my dad. Take from that what you will, I guess.

As if that wasn't enough to be sad about, Stephen Colbert came back tonight with a tear-filled and touching memorial about his mom. She sounds like one of those super strong women who weathered a hard life and always looked on the bright side. Plus, eleven kids? Damn. It's sort of uncomfortable to hear Stephen speak as himself rather than the character. As a viewer, I really only hear that when he's on another news show or if something is wrong.

In non-sad news, Under the Dome starts on Monday. I'll be pretty disappointed if it's not totally badass. I saw a pic of Stephen King on the set. That certainly bodes well. Plus it almost certainly means he did a cameo. Woot! Don't forget, I'm reviewing it for GeekBinge.

Oh, how's the writing going? Funny you should ask:

Stayed up all night working on the comic I got asked to do for a thing called Resilient Brainforest. It's basically a bunch of non-comic folks trying to tell a story with some words, and B&W pictures that we created ourselves.
I had this "brilliant" idea that I'd "just" draw a few things, have H scan them, and then photoshop them together into something cool.

Turns out, that's really fucking hard.
Not only can't I draw AT ALL, but because of certain factors, it was "easier" to do in Illustrator than Photoshop. Essentially I had to cut out all my shitty drawings, move them into new files with transparent backgrounds, then shade them. At that point, I could place the in an Illustrator template (which I also had to make myself--with some assistance from H). All and all it was at least 20 hours of labor and nearly twice that of freaking out about how shitty it was going to be. Then I couldn't find a picture of a house that I had the rights to. Not having a car is a pain in the ass when it's 3:30 in the goddamn morning and you CANNOT find a picture of a house.
Anyway, it's done now. 3 panels, two of which have visual stuff in it. The one other non-spouse human I've showed it to say it was pretty cool.


This morning I woke up and found out that some crazy guy shot up a midnight screening of Dark Knight. Reactions are as you'd expect. Mostly people are shocked and/or saddened. Some Republican assholes are crapping out soundbites about how the audience should have been armed so they could shoot back, or how this is all really an attack on Romney or a way to obfuscate judeo-christian teachings. No, I have NO idea how anyone could get there from a crazy man shooting movie patrons.

I also hear a lot of people, people I know even, calling this an act of "Evil." As my regular readers know, I don't believe there's a such thing as "evil" humans. We tend to call acts evil based on either how hurtful they are to other humans, or on how difficult it is to understand the so-called "evildoer's" motives or intentions. It's one of the reasons a kid who steals a car is tried as a juvenile but one who shoots someone is tried as an adult. Shooting someone is more serious in terms of consequences. But the act itself shows no more maturity or intent--especially when you're talking about a kid of 12 or 13.

But I digress. By dismissing things like this as Evil acts perpetrated by Evil people, we relieve ourselves of the need to understand, to dig deeper and find out what the hell is going on with someone who would do such a thing. Understanding is the only path to prevention. Evil is an excuse, a made-up construct we apply to horrible things we don't understand. It's as lazy as any other stereotyping, and hurts us all just as much. This is something I discuss in my books, this one in particular. If I am actually able to influence the culture with my work, I hope I influence people to dig a little deeper, to ask a few more questions, and to keep their minds open to the possibility that things are not as simple as they're pretending they are--especially when it comes to the wide world of the mentally ill.

Mentally ill people sometimes do horrible things. They sometimes do wonderful things, things no one else would ever think of doing. This has to mean that we have things to learn from them. Please, let us not squander that opportunity by dismissing every incomprehensible tragedy as a mere act of Evil.

Within say, an hour of this weekend's shooting, the Internet discourse devolved into a hateful screaming match about who is more responsible. I'm here to tell you that there is plenty of blame to go around.

Sure, there's plenty of violent rhetoric coming from the right. To rile up their angry, frightened, gun-and-scapegoat-loving base, conservatives do tend to employ a lot of aggressive language that many are citing as the impetus for this shooting. Now let me ask you this, how many of you have ever murdered someone because someone on TV told you to? Nobody? Okay, good. Now, how many of you have ever murdered someone because a couple people on TV, the internet, and politics suggested that you do so? Again, nobody? Awesome. Have you ever murdered someone (or even tried) because of a book, a song, a movie, a little devil on your shoulder, or a map with a bunch of cross-hairs on it? I thought not. That's because this is something disturbed people do. People who are not well acquainted with reality can sometimes take things more literally than intended, with ugly, horrible consequences. And of course, the Bible has been cited as the cause for many, man murders. So has Catcher in the Rye. But we don't dig up the corpses of Salinger or Jesus so we can hold them accountable, do we?

That said, I honestly do not think that Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin, Rush Limbaugh, or Bill O'Reilly are actually glad that someone opened fire on a crowd. In fact, I bet they are horrified because they know full well that a lot of people will blame them for the actions of a lone loon. Yes, teabaggers are often also gun nuts. Yes, many are racists, homophobes, misogynists, etc. They are ignorant, misinformed, carry nonsensical misspelled signs, and are terrified of anything they don't understand. I think they are ludicrous, and need to shut up. I do NOT, however, think they are all okay with murdering people they don't agree with. In my opinion, gun nuts come in two basic stripes: Those who are nutty for guns the way that I am nutty for movies: enthusiastic, knowledgeable, passionate, are careful not to leave naughty things in reach of children. Then, there are the frightened, hateful types who keep tons of guns around because they are terrified that the gov't, the ter'rsts, the atheists, or whoever they're hating at the mo' are gonna come take their guns and kill their grandmothers or whatever. They cram the 2nd amendment down our collective throats and swear that they are nothing more than patriots who love their country...which must be the reason Sig Sauer puts out crap like this.

IMHO, the reason shit like this happens is largely due to the stigma surrounding mental illness. When we pretend that the ONLY diagnoses are "crazy" or "sane" and that telling someone they need mental help is a huge insult--we open the door for nuttiness to be confused with reality. This is exacerbated by denying poor people access to doctors and a general tenor in society that people who get help for mental issues are inherently less valuable, trustworthy, truthful, or reasonable than people who fervently pretend that they are fine. If you think spraying a peaceful crowd with automatic gunfire is a good way to get your point across, you're a loon. And you'd be a loon even if no one had ever heard of Sarah Palin or her endless chanting of "don't retreat, reload!"

Myself, I write exactly the sort of books that some loon might read the wrong way and think I'm telling him/her to murder someone or that "evil" is okay. They are crazy books, but like Michael Douglass in "Falling Down," they make an odd kind of sense. I do not advocate murder, nor do I believe in evil. Evil is a cop-out, just like Bill O'Reilly's version of god. I don't know what causes this, so it must be god/the devil/bob/evil/FSM. Like zero-tolerance policies, it is a short cut to thinking or having to decide things.

With all of that in mind, Fred Phleps and his ilk can fuck right off for their plans to picket the funerals of these people. I know I just said I don't advocate violence, but if I was a Christian and this guy kept telling people he was on the same side as me--I might well want to introduce his face to a jumbo roll of duct tape.

Leslie Neilsen died, which if you're on the Internets, you probably already know. Sad, as I recently wrote an article about Creepshow for Zombie Zone News. He didn't even get a chance to comment on it. Frown.

My 40th birthday party was wicked awesome. I'd love to regale you with pics, stories, and tales of all the awesome people, gifts, foodstuffs, drinkables, and etc that went down. However, my corpal tunnel is out of freakin' control. Despite wearing my braces religiously, it hurts to type. In fact, the only really comfortable position for my hands is curled into a loose fist. Also, my pinkie fingers occasionally go numb even if I'm just resting my hands. Need to get an ergo keyboard for my laptop immediately. I am terrified of hand surgery, and tend to freak out about medical shit long before my doctor actually tells me what's going on. Seeing the doc on Weds. I'm so worried, I'm going at 9:25am instead of waiting a week.

The party was awesome though. All the food turned out great. It was our largest crowd ever, with many of my favorite peeps in attendance. Some came from far and wide just to be there. I got some beautiful gifts-- like a cool dream-catcher, a thing or two off my wish list, some lovely and/or hilarious cards. The outpouring of genuine affection was indescribably amazing. I'm not one to use the word blessed, so I'll just say I am fucking lucky. Here is me and just one of the incredible gifts I got:



Also had no voice to speak of *heh* when I woke up. After drinking tea all day, it's a bit better. So I'll have to go to work tomorrow, unlike today.

Harlan Ellison is dying.
*bevy of emotional commentary*
I feel about Harlan Ellison the way any writer with a brain feels about him. He is god to us. Praise him. He inspired people who inspired people who inspire me. He doesn't pretend to like shit, and he doesn't hold back what he thinks even when the result is directly harmful to so-called networking. His integrity and commitment to his craft may be even more impressive than his work.

This is just the kind of attitude that makes my heart swell with admiration for him:

"My wife has instructions that the instant I die, she has to burn all the unfinished stories. And there may be a hundred unfinished stories in this house, maybe more than that. There's three quarters of a novel. No, these things are not to be finished by other writers, no matter how good they are. It could be Paul Di Filippo, who is just about the best writer in America, as far as I'm concerned. Or God forbid, James Patterson or Judith Krantz should get a hold of The Man Who Looked for Sweetness, which is sitting up on my desk, and try to finish it, anticipating what Ellison was thinking -- no! Goddammit. If Fred Pohl wants to finish all of C.M. Kornbluth's stories, that's his business. If somebody wants to take the unfinished Edgar Allan Poe story, which has now gone into the public domain, and write an ending that is not as good as Poe would have written, let 'em do whatever they want! But not with my shit, Jack. When I'm gone, that's it. What's down on the paper, it says 'The End,' that's it. 'Cause right now I'm busy writing the end of the longest story I've ever written, which is me."

Beneath my laughter and raucous applause, I am sad.
Thank you sir, for everything.

Photoshop gets my hopes up again with this story of a supposed giant Great White Shark, (to be confused with a White Pointer, because that's what they call them where Steve Irwin is from). Sad thing is, it's obviously manipulated, which makes me very sad.



I do so wish it was real. But it's pretty clear that it isn't. Too bad, because overfishing has killed off most of the bigger sharks, and they're getting pretty rare. *sigh*

New episode of LOST hits January 27, 2010.
It is entitled "LAX."
Oooooooooh, I am super stoked.

In violin news, I think the problem with tuning this violin is the humidity (or lack thereof) in my apartment. So I need to spend on some kind of humidifier. I still think the peg is bad because it shouldn't shrink that badly after just a few hours in my apartment. Of course, maybe I'm just saying that because I don't want to spend $30 on a case humidifier and a hygrometer. I guess I don't really know. But the fact that it's only one peg leads me to think the instrument bears some looking at. Some of the other pegs don't turn very smoothly, but I don't know if that's them or me.

Happened to find my 4th grade teacher on Facebook recently. She remembered me, which I guess is one of the good things about having a ridiculous name.

Remember a little while back when some jackass in Florida let his snake escape and it killed a little girl? Seems that he and the mother are being charged with manslaughter. I am glad to hear it. Not to be a bitch, but that girl would still be alive if they'd had the common fucking sense to latch the cage properly and maybe stack some books on top. My snake turned mean on me after we got the cats but he still never escaped. I was always really careful. I knew I couldn't live with myself if the snake every hurt one of my cats (or vice versa, but that wasn't very likely).

I was shocked and saddened to learn that a new power cord for my computer is $72. I don't have to pay for it, of course, thanks to the AppleCare. But jeez. And it's not like you can get by without one. Also, I got a new cord for H's camera, which I had lost. It doesn't work on my computer for some reason, it says it's drawing too much power and is going to "shut down the hub." Problem is, it was plugged in directly. It's a puzzlement, but I'm going to try a few things before I insist that they send me a new cord.

For some reason, my back has been hurting really, really bad lately. Not sure what that's all about, but I'm doing extra yoga to see if I can blast through it, so to speak.

In animal news, some stupid jackass in Florida let his python escape and it killed a little girl. Honestly, that's a crime so ridiculous it almost feels like they're using the snake to cover up a deliberate murder. What fucking moron doesn't know how to keep a snake from escaping? Oh right, the kind who shouldn't have one in the first place. In Florida, you need a permit to house a snake. Presumably, so you'll learn how to care for it properly. This asshat didn't bother to get one. Plus, when he saw the snake on the girl, he yelled at and stabbed it to get it off her. Here's the thing, if you read even one book on amateur herping, it will tell you that snakes have no pain sensors, and cannot hear sound in the air. So say again: Jackass.

Speaking of jackassery, H sent me a would be funny if it weren't so fucking sad vid of a 911 call where a guy felt "robbed" by a McDonalds. I have to say, both the guy and the 911 operators handled this badly. The caller should have been less of a stupid, selfish, immature, douchebag. The 911 op should have given the caller the non-emergency number. He didn't. Honestly, I've called 911 for non-life-threatening-emergencies because I didn't know the non-emergency number. Say, an enraged customer who has not threatened bodily harm, but whom I still want the fuck out of my store. Not a true emergency, but I've no time to go looking up numbers. Anyway, the biggest problem with this kind of behavior is that it's often cited when something like this happens.

In better news, I finished the third draft of Kiss Me Like You Love Me which, as I mentioned, is not based on anyone I know in real life. Seems to be some confusion on that, so I'm clearing it up once again. Anyway, it's perilously close to being done. Mmmmm...done.

So...waterboarding is legal, is it? I guess that's what the courts have said recently. So no one responsible for ordering torture, or actually torturing someone is going to answer for it.

And Dr Tiller's family is not planning to reopen his clinic. Sad.
I guess in this case, the terrorists win.

Meanwhile the murderer of Dr Tiller has proclaimed that there are many more acts of domestic terrorism planned, but he wouldn't give specifics.

So I must ask: why aren't we waterboarding this sick fuck?
If it's legal and therefore morally correct, what's the problem?




Obviously, I do not support torture. But so many people are screaming about how torture is justified with terrorists and even that to NOT torture them makes one a "terrorist sympathizer." Does this only apply to brown terrorists? Only to foreigners? I honeslty don't get it. This guy is a murderer and intent on using fear and violence to get his way. Ergo, he's a terrorist. Last I heard, we had a War on Terror in this country. So, if you're okay with torture, what's the problem with torturing this fucker to keep more doctors from being murdered?

White Tiger kills zookeeper while tourists watch.

So...the animal lived it's whole life in captivity in what were reported to be cramped and crowded conditions. And when it exercised its natural instincts, it was put down. I don't want to say it's not tragic when a person dies just doing their job. But man...wild cats are NOT meant to be kept in cages. And whaddaya know, it led to death of both a person and a rare animal.
Plus, this particular tiger was killed after the attack had ended. I can understand shooting a tiger if it's actively attacking someone, or even if it is loose in a crowd of people. People say that once they see people as food, they will be more likely to attack us. I say that big cats already see us as food, and that it's fucking stupid to ever assume otherwise. Just ask Roy Horn...or don't, that guy is crazy.

Apparently the guy running the park was investigated by NZ's Ministry. After assessing the animal's conditions and surroundings, they considered putting 40 of them down. There were 42 big cats being housed there at the time. I guess being some kind of famous "Lion Man" doesn't necessarily make you a competent zookeeper.

This is, as it happens, the second recent White Tiger attack in a zoo. Last November, a cleaning guy in Singapore got mauled to death by two white tigers. People thought at the time the guy might have been "crazy" or suicidal. As he's dead, they still don't know. Anyway, here's the cell phone footage of the Singapore attack. Warning: this is actual footage, with sound, of a guy being attacked by tigers and people reacting to it. It is truly horrifying to watch, so much so that you might not want to. Seriously.



The difference between the Singapore attacks and most others is that Singapore Zoo determined that the attacking tigers would NOT be put down. They said they were acting "naturally."

Of course a year earlier, a Siberian Tiger escaped from its enclosure at San Francisco Zoo. It killed a zoo patron and attacked two others before being shot dead by police, who for some reason, were on the scene before zookeepers. Later, it was determined that not only were the victims taunting the tiger, but also that the enclosure did not remotely meet current zoo standards for tigers. So again, a person and an animal died.

I think I've mentioned, I'm torn on the whole zoo thing. There is certainly value in providing sanctuary for animals who can't live in the wild for one reason or another. Breeding and acclimation programs for endangered animals is generally a good thing. And teaching future generations about the beauty and importance of having animals in the wild is also very important. Zoos are doing better and better when it comes to providing healthy habitats for most animals. When I was a kid, pants-wearing monkeys smoked cigars and rode tricycles at Detroit Zoo. Now they fling poo just like real monkeys (kidding, only captive monkeys do this). Still, wild animals in captivity is a big fucking drag.

Okay, enough about that. It's my day off and I have another character to kill.

Not really "feeling it" today. Don't want to go to work. Don't feel able to write. Not wanting to be social or productive and am really just forcing myself to do regular, normal stuff. In short, I'm very depressed. And I'm sick to death of it. Had to postpone my doc appointment due to finances, but hopefully I'll be able to go next week.

H and I watched the BattleStar Galactica finale last night.
( My spoilery thoughts on the matter )That said, I can't imagine we'll watch Caprica. I don't even know who the Greystone's are.

I also caught the Big Love season finale last night. I have to say, I feel bad for Albee. With Roman as his father, I don't see how he could have become anything other than what he is. Nicky is a different story, as she has had the unconditional love of a family for quite some time now, and she keeps fucking up. I think Bill is in the right there. Joey's whole deal was a surprise, though of course it makes a lot of sense. I really do enjoy that show, though even for HBO, a ten episode season is pretty punk.

The latest word on Daniel Radcliffe's stunt double is that he will be a quadriplegic. It's very sad, the poor kid was only 25. I guess they've finally repoened the set and have resumed filming.

Funnily enough, I was just watching The Naked Gun on cable, and now it's non-murderous* co-star is dead. Adeiu, Ricardo Montalban. Know in your heart that I have a bunch of movies in my collection with you in them, like Wrath of Khan, Escape to and Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, and the aforementioned Naked Gun. And you know, 88 is a rich, full life. He was married to the same woman since 1944 until she died in November of 2007. That is an insanely long time. I should be lucky to have half so much time with H.

*the other co-star being Orenthal J Simpson. Not to be confused with H.



I've been working on book publicity things all day. New tip sheets for both books, new book signing proposal letter, and new compilation of reviews. I sent a bunch of pics to gusterize who is designing my website. I'm also working on the bio for the site, not sure what all I want to include. I need to read a bunch of other authors sites to see what kind of things people are putting in their bios. Is it possible to be zany and professional? I hope so. I also have a new list of independent bookstores I'm going to try to get signings at.

Still very frustrating to hear that other writers from my publishing house are getting Borders signings, and I still can't. It's like ramming your head against a brick freaking wall.

Also, swayworn: that music you sent me was wicked awesome. I finally had a chance to sit down and listen to it. My socks were sufficiently rocked. So many thanks for that.

8,607 / 50,000 (17.2%)

It's been slow going, as I've just barely be keeping up with my wordcount. I have to break 10K today, and am going to try to get some of that done at work. Hopefully it will be slow enough for me to do that.

Here's a pic of me taken many years ago, I think when I was living at the Heathen Ranch in Saline.

It's of me, with my giant glasses and Ames (kissdbyagnome), who performed my wedding ceremony. Nice, no?

In sadder literary news, Michael Crichton died at only 66. I've got to think he had a few more novels in him. Prey was supposed to be made into a movie years ago...I wonder what ever happened with that. Movies of his books tend to make a lot of money.

Per Chris Baty, I'm supposed to be making a list of things I love in novels:
Insane but loveable characters
gruesome murders
suspense
insight into character's past
drug use esp pot smoking
things that make me want to suspend disbeleif

things I hate:
too similar to last novel by same author
miraculous recoveries
religious overtones
trite retells of old monsters: vampires, werewolves etc
unbelievably happy endings

What's on your list?

Sad times, as Levi Stubbs of the Four Tops is dead at age 72.

Levi may be best remembered as the voice of Audrey II in the musical movie version of Little Shop of Horrors. So just imagine that I'm not at work and I took the time to dig up an awesome pic of the carnivorous plant for you all. Oh, ta heck with it, here:



In other news, I have but one single lonely review of The Cat's Apprentice over at Amazon. That is so sad...and I need more. So as soon as you crazy kids have read your books, please make like groovesinorbit and leave me a review.

Another author at my publishing house secured a Borders signing without the BINC number every Borders in Ann Arbor has assured me I need to get a signing. My sales are stupid low, as pretty much everyone I know who intends to buy a book has already bought one. My commercial is doing shit for business despite how much it costs, and there are over a million books on Amazon doing better than mine.

Couple that with the fact that pretty much no one was interested in the FREE zombie story I posted at MySpace, nor the deleted Sadie chapter I posted here. I know I don't post these things for the purpose of collecting comments, but I did expect that some of you would be at least a little excited about the previously unseen chapter.

Maybe that's my problem, I'm not making people get excited about the book.
My new book is coming out in September, and it's nowhere near as good as the Sadie book.
So it's not going to do nearly the sales that Sadie did, which as I mentioned, were alarmingly low.
I swear I'm gonna be stuck selling violins and living in an apartment for the rest of my fucking life.
Fie!

The rest of the world appears to be up in arms over the Obama New Yorker cover. I must admit I was initially offended by it. But it's not as if the New Yorker is calling Obama a muslim extremist, not really. It's actually a great compliment to be on the cover of the New Yorker, I wouldn't sneeze at it, no matter how I was depicted. Of course it's easy for me to say that seeing as how it will never happen. Anyway, I guess the New Yorker is much cleverer than me...which is why once I again, I didn't quite "get it." But I guess it's a satire of how people keep trying to derail Obama's campaign with depictions of him as a Muslim or terrorist sympathizer. I guess there are still people who are offended by Obama's not wearing a flag lapel pin. Asinine! It amazes me how fucking gullible people can be.

Stan Winston died.

He was only 62.

...that I don't have one single review up at Borders, OR Barnes & Noble. I begged, I pleaded, I sent out individual Emails and made people promise to leave me a review at either Borders or Barnes & Noble. And still I have none.

*sniff sniff*

This books stuff is really important to me, you know?
Because it's probably the most important thing I'll do in life.

But there is good news:

Created by OnePlusYou - Free Online Dating

I've got a half a mind to go to Best Buy and buy The Mist.
Damn, that was a good movie.