I am a novelist with work published in science fiction, fantasy, mystery and historical "novelized biography". I've won the Prometheus award and the Dragon award. I also write under the names Elise Hyatt and Sarah D'Almeida. http://sarahahoyt.com/
Two days ago we had news that my mother in law was put into hospice. She has died today.
This means instead of being home on Sunday, we’ll be traveling across the country to the funeral.
Keep us in your thoughts, since this means I’ll be driving a lot, which frankly scares the heck out of me, but also that life is going to be a mess for another week. If all goes well we’ll be back home in a week and a day.
If you guys send me guest posts, much appreciated. And posting WILL be a little erratic.
I’ll try to bob up once a day, no promises on time, though.
I don’t understand whence comes the myth of the very efficient communist regime.
[Before I go on, let me get definitions out of the way: Communist, socialist, progressive, social democrat… It’s a continuum, but really at some level it’s like that Far Side cartoon with the two bathroom doors and a penguin picture on each and the caption “only they know the difference.” And yeah, to the concern trolls who’ll come by to give me the idiotrivia about it. Thank you. I know. Thanks to your comrades in the 70s in Portugal I studied Marx in all my courses in middle school (BTW that was a bad idea. As a well-read 12 year old, who could do math, I saw the holes in logic, economics and psychology.) The point is that yeah, we can also tell which sex a penguin is by looking closely. The point here is that no one outside your group cares. Same sh*t, different name for the smell.]
Now that this is out of the way: there is a myth out there that the statists are incredibly efficient and smart. They believe it, of course. I mean, it has been an article of faith with them, ever since I’ve been cognizant, that people on the right are stupid uneducated hicks.
[And for the sake of definitions, again, let’s make this clear: “on the right” to the left means anyone not of the body. they lump into one group the European “blood and soil” right, the national socialists (because not internationalists, therefore not of the body), the libertarians, the American “leave us the heck alone” right, religious conservatives, in fact any religious person, and basically anyone who doesn’t think Lenin had some great ideas. Hell, for a while there they tried to shove Maoists in here with us.]
This is the result of our education system having been largely taken over by the Lenin-fans. They equate smart with “has the right answer on the test” and “has the right credentials” both of which really are the same thing. And when the curriculum calls for parroting Marx, praising Lenin and hating the free market the only ones getting good grades are idiots, mobis and submarines. (I wonder if the left has any idea how many submarines there are. I have a feeling they’re about to find out. Let’s face it, even I, who am glass fronted, hid successfully for over a decade.)
So they think of themselves as super smart. And their politico-religious beliefs requires they believe in central control, and that it can work and be efficient.
But…. excuse me? Why do the rest of you believe it?
I was reading a facebook post by Brad Torgersen about the feet-on-fire Portland guy, (Oh, you haven’t seen it? Well…. let’s say burning man wasn’t completely cancelled this year. More at the link, but get an oggle of this:)
Anyway, Brad linked this and someone in the comments said these are the Kopstone Komissars. Which is when it hit me:
THEY ALL ARE.
The really committed communists, the ones who said “come the revolution” always were, and their murderous baby thugs are worse.
No, I am absolutely dead sure on this. Remember I’ve had a vast number of encounters with leftists my entire life — some day over drinks remind me to tell you in detail about the “demonstration guard thugs” who surrounded me, all pointing AK 47s at me and thought I would be scared. No, seriously. They were a for-real circular firing squad. If I hadn’t pointed it out they might have let go, too. Okay, I told them, because I was afraid they might accidentally hit me. But having been on the receiving end of their expertise, having them try to shoot me meant I was probably the safest there. — and none of them was playing with a full deck.
About the closest you get to sane and competent are soft American left, and all of us have friends — and relatives — in that pool, so you know without my telling you that these otherwise sane people are ignoring all the contradictions and impossibilities in the bullshit they support. They have to be. Because otherwise they’d have a psychotic break.
From there on, the insanity just piles on.
I’m not going to say that these people are naturally stupid. Hell, I’m related to some of them. I’m saying the ones who are smart, or even competent in other things have…. cracks. Okay, we all have, but their cracks allowed this idiotifying (totally a word) cult-like “explanation for everything” to invade their brain, and that thing eats your ability to function and your common sense. (Might be a thing of totalitarian ideology. I have vague memories of people talking about naziism doing the same in the early 20th century.)
But the truth is when they’re running fully under the power of Leninist-love, they have lost most of their marbles, their competence is doubtful, and they couldn’t find reality if it bit them in the fleshy part of the butt.
Occasional-Cortex is about normal level of competence, and when people ask why left-wing mayors are destroying their own cities, I think it’s because they don’t think they’re destroying them. They are, instead, giving an opportunity for the downtrodden to take over them, or whatever. They are of course completely insane, but their cult requires them to believe this.
Obama didn’t mean to destroy world economy, for instance. He thought if he impoverished the US, the rest of the world would become richer, because insano Marxist economics requires that to be true, so it must be true. And he couldn’t process reality that went against the doctrine.
It’s like this all the way down with the left.
But then, you say, Sarah, how did they manage to have these plots, these illusions, to take control of academia, the media and entertainment?
Oh, that was because they had full control of them, starting with a lot of sympathizers in place before they got frisky.
They really can’t function with anything less than FULL control. They’re not competent. They can just project an ILLUSION of competence. BUT they need full control.
Remember in the USSR they had to install a ban on TYPEWRITERS and were finally taken down by that revolutionary tech, the copier.
And they think they can take control of the US and KEEP IT.
So, the series of prattfalls we’ve been watching this year? That’s the left when not in full control of the narrative. They’re always like that. the number of stupid moves they made in any country they got control of? Is almost all of them.
Yeah, they did this desperate covidiocy thing to regain their captive audience, but even that is breaking down.
We’re Americans, and you block us on one side, we go the other way. And as for means of communication? Oh, brother!
The left trying to take over America are like a dog chasing a car. If it catches it, then it will know what real trouble is.
Be not afraid. In the end we win, they lose. If we manage to not die laughing.
A note from your friendly neighborhood writer (I know, I know, I’m not the only one!): Sorry about this strange truncated post, but it’s my husband’s birthday and I don’t feel like doing anything, and besides I didn’t promo yesterday. Real post tomorrow, I promise.
Also FYI I HATE the new WordPress posting interface, which they make really clean by hiding ABSOLUTELY everything and then you have to poke around till you find it. And they don’t let you switch back to the class mode.
I can see where this would be way more useful for stuff like, oh, a store or a vlog, but none of the stuff that’s “new and cool” is stuff I need, and I can’t find any of the things I actually want, like how to center the pictures without figuring out pictographs they invented for the occasion. Grrr. Argh.
Meanwhile, kick back, consider one of these books, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
Book Promo
*Note these are books sent to us by readers/frequenters of this blog. Our bringing them to your attention does not imply that we’ve read them and/or endorse them, unless we specifically say so. As with all such purchases, we recommend you download a sample and make sure it’s to your taste. If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. I ALSO WISH TO REMIND OUR READERS THAT IF THEY WANT TO TIP THE BLOGGER WITHOUT SPENDING EXTRA MONEY, CLICKING TO AMAZON THROUGH ONE OF THE BOOK LINKS ON THE RIGHT, WILL GIVE US SOME AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR PURCHASES MADE IN THE NEXT 24HOURS, OR UNTIL YOU CLICK ANOTHER ASSOCIATE’S LINK. PLEASE CONSIDER CLICKING THROUGH ONE OF THOSE LINKS BEFORE SEARCHING FOR THAT SHED, BIG SCREEN TV, GAMING COMPUTER OR CONSERVATORY YOU WISH TO BUY. That helps defray my time cost of about 2 hours a day on the blog, time probably better spent on fiction. ;)*
The Kingdom of Central’s sovereign, Heather Anderson, set L1 as a limit for armed ships to respect, de-militarizing the Solar System. Now that the Earth nations are experimenting with star drives they want to challenge this limit anew. The USNA starship, Constitution is intercepted violating the L1 limit and brings them to the brink of war again. Will Peer Jeffrey Singh be able to negotiate a compromise? Do the Earthies mean to bargain in good faith? The Spacers need to buy time but things on Earth are always so complicated…
Can magic be a substitute for drugs? It sure seems like it.
Christopher Chevalier and Listrial, the Fairy Queen, are in Arizona searching for clues about terrifying monsters and the people who fight them and finding more questions than answers.
Winifred and her crew have been knocked for a loop, all their lives turned upside down, and they have a bad feeling about what’s coming next. When Izzy gets in trouble, all hell could break loose.
Dan Ben-David needs answers and he needs them fast. Everything is spiraling out of his control and he doesn’t want to ask for help. Instead, he’s trying to figure everything out on his own and it’s going from bad to worse. He’s in desperate need of help and a sandwich.
A whimsical, quirky story. How could it not be with naughty emus and flying pigs? On her own for the first time in years, Linda wants to learn to take care of herself again. She’s not doing a spectacular job of it. Sheriff Deputy Dan Granger doesn’t like making mistakes, especially when he is on duty. He’s made Linda’s new independent life more difficult. When he tries to fix his mistakes, he can’t quite get it right. And it’s more and more important to Dan that he makes everything right. Can he make this romance fly? Or will birds that don’t fly and pigs that do, get in the way?
Ice is back. He’s got a job, a girlfriend, four talking horses, and now he bought a wreck of a house, hemmed with conflicting requirements of the Historical Society, building codes and fire regulations . . . He’s almost too busy to worry about the looming trial of a former president.
Sorry, guys. It was a very weird day compounded by the fact I drove about six hours yesterday, so by the time I went to bed, I kept startling myself awake from dreams I was driving and… falling asleep. So I woke up early today for things that I couldn’t be late for. I just got back to the hotel.
On the good side, I drove six hours. On the highway. Those of you who know my issues with driving, particularly on the highway, know how momentous this is.
So I’ll put up the book promo tomorrow, since we actually have a very nice batch of books.
I told you this week was going to be weird even for me. OTOH hoping to get these two books out the door so I can publish one this month, and one next month. I’m also well into editing the Con books, and will talk to Kate about the next two next week, and hopefully lock in the contract. (Editing: SOMEHOW we don’t have an edited version, which is why they’re not up yet. And yeah, I’m doing it, because why not? I was still sleeping 6 hours a night. It will be fine.)
She also has some space operish mil-sf and other stuff I’ll try to get out ASAP. I mean, what am I doing, otherwise? worrying? what good does that do? And yes, in case that doesn’t come through: I am feeling better. So promo post and special Labor Day challenges tomorrow (when husband has his birthday, too.)
I was recently reading a fantasy series—it doesn’t matter much which one—where the world building started out quite well, with a pre-industrial collection of cities and farming towns, but eventually dissolved into poor world building, in that a number of things didn’t make sense.
At the heart of the issue was that the author was evidently unaware of what living on the margin really means. A pre-industrial farming society, especially one such as the one portrayed, where darkness means that everyone and everything has to be safely inside, has almost no room for error, and is going to be on the edge of starvation.
To begin with, how long does it take to bake bread? I know the answers you’re likely to give, but in a society living on the margin, it takes nine months.
Let me explain.
We’re used to our modern society, where you have many things right at hand, but to make bread in a pre-industrial society, we need to be like the Little Red Hen and start at the very beginning. Which means a piece of land.
Land doesn’t come in bags of soil from the garden center. Land starts with what you have. It’s not precisely suited to wheat where I am, so the challenges are a bit different, but a lot of the process is the same. First you have to prepare the ground, which means you have to deal with the plants that are already there. And the rocks and other things that get in your way. Plowing is generally the first step, a deep breaking up of root structures and turning over of the dirt. Where I am, the soil is heavily clay, so things need to be added to break it up. Straw is good for that, as is any dry foliage that is unlikely to sprout. Definitely nothing diseased; you don’t need nasty spores mildewing up your plants. And you’ll want nutrients in there too, all the stuff you’ve been composting over the last year, steer manure or well-aged horse manure, fish heads, night soil, those sorts of things.
This will not smell good.
You may want to harrow the field to break up the clods and even stuff out—yes, “harrowing” started out as an agricultural term—and you haven’t even gotten to planting yet. When you do plant, you have to plant more than you’re going to need, because pests and other problems are going to take out a portion of your crop. While it’s in its early growth, you’ll have to go weeding every day, lest they overtake your crops, but once they’re established, they often out-compete the weeds. But you have to make sure they have plenty of water, the right amount of sun, no disease, no nibbling small mammals (or big mammals; deer are agricultural pests too), and basically you have to maintain the field for as long as the growing season is. 60-90 days is a typical amount of time for many crops after fruit set—which means until you’ve got flowers and pollination, you can’t even start the count. (And mind that you have bees and butterflies, or you’re not getting much of a crop.)
Once you’ve got the crop ready, you have to harvest. Of course, you have to be careful, because cut grain is liable to rot if it gets wet, and in a pre-industrial society, you don’t have the weather report as such. So you set your harvest for a dry day and try to get it under cover as soon as you can to dry out. Once it’s dried, you have to separate out the grain, which means threshing it. (One such threshing tool is a flail, which fantasy writers often imagine makes a good weapon of war. Maybe improvised, but that’s the sort of thing that can literally come back to hurt you almost more easily than it can hurt someone else.) Once it’s threshed, you separate the wheat from the chaff—yes, there’s another agricultural phrase for you—by throwing it up in the air in a bit of a breeze and letting the grain fall while the straw and other bits blow off.
So now you have grain, hopefully without too many straw bits in it. Time to get it ground into flour. You could do it yourself, with a mortar and pestle, that would take darn near forever. Or you could take it to a miller, who has millstones, which are set a tiny fraction apart and have channels to carry ground wheat to the edges. The millstones are turned by gears and wind, water, or animals, and the quality of the stones affects how fine the grain is, and whether you get little bits of stone in your flour to wear away your teeth over the years. You get back your flour—the miller has probably taken a portion of it in payment—and now you’re ready to bake.
Except you need some way to do it! While there are means to cook bread over an open fire, you need at the very least a sturdy pan in which to cook it, and the fuel to cook it with. Be careful of your fuel choices, because the smoke is likely to flavor your food over an open fire. If you have an oven, it’s very likely brick set to the side of the hearth, with its own door, and that will keep smoke and ash out of your food. (Hope it’s after the invention of the chimney, at least.) So if you have a nicely bricked hearth, chimney, and oven, you’re doing great. Plus wood, peat, dried herbivore turds (yes, that’s a thing), charcoal from a forest fire, or whatever you’re going to burn.
What else do you need for bread? Well, yeast is actually pretty easy to come by. Stale beer is the simplest (beer comes before bread in human history), but anything that’s fermented can do. In a pinch, you can get the flour wet and wait for *it* to ferment, that only takes a day or two. Three or four if you want that sourdough taste. Make sure nothing nasty starts growing, though—you want fermentation, not rot. Eggs? Well, if you have chickens, you can have egg in your bread. Milk? Cows, goats, sheep.
Now that you have all of your ingredients, you can bake! Baking itself is the shortest part of this all. What you’re really going to want to spend time on is safe storage techniques, though, because you can’t wait until the next harvest for your next loaf of bread. Pottery is pretty choice, as it’s waterproof and vermin-proof. Hope you have a potter around, and the right kinds of clay, and plenty of fuel for the firing…
*Note from the blog owner – B. Durbin didn’t know if this post would be germane for this blog. There was just a feeling that perhaps fantasy writers should know more about the real world before setting out to build imaginary ones. I think, on the contrary, it is the same airy-fairy sort of notion that of course our ancestors could just run to the supermarket to buy some flour (i.e. for instance that regency that started with the duchess driving a gig to buy groceries…) that gives us the notion that, oh, a state (the glorious masked, locked, bear flag people’s republic) can postpone evictions for non-payment of rent indefinitely. There is a generation/generations of people raised in such pampered affluence they literally don’t know that everything they can buy — or, say, loot — is literally pieces of other people’s lives: time spent making the things (and effort, and other materials, etc) so this thing could exist. So, even supposing that insurance could replace the full value of looted goods (it can’t, for the record) the goods themselves would be gone, and with them the pieces of people’s lives that went into them existing and being available for sale. Looting, and vandalism, which is all the pseudo revolutionary chic of pampered establishment brats these days is in fact a series of partial murders. You’re destroying parts of people’s lives. You’re destroying value that can’t be replace by money, because money is just a symbol, not the thing. Do that enough and civilization collapses. And those so pampered as to think that things just appear and that goods aren’t made or created or invented, just infinitely redistributed, really will not like what comes after. So, yes, this post is germane. It’s a reminder of the real world. Which is that you can’t change by wishing it different. -SAH*
I’m one of those people who doesn’t believe in affirmations. If I tell myself “”You’re good, you’re wonderful, your talent is amazing!” the voice at the back of my head just gets sarcastic. And frankly, it gets sarcastic enough to undo any even vague acquiescence I might be giving to that stuff. Plus my sarcasm…. I’m really good at it. So I emerge beaten.
In the same way, I don’t believe in pampering yourself. Look, I know myself. I’m made of laziness and loving not to do much. Yeah, I say if I win the lottery I’d probably write more, but I’d have to discipline myself to do so. Because otherwise I could easily while my life away going down rabbit holes on the internet. And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve recognized the disease in a few of you. Something is mentioned and even if you don’t have any interest in it, suddenly you have to know EVERYTHING about it. You look up what seems like two minutes later, and 400 years have gone by, give or take a week. This is actually how Deep Pink came about. From simultaneous deep dives into apparitions (some of which smell a little of the diabolus and to be fair aren’t certified) and Hard Rock bands history. Okay, I lost less than 400 years. Only about three months, but seriously, I could have done so many other things with that time. Including written other books that have been waiting longer.
Anyway, the point is if I say “I’m going to pamper myself” I don’t even know what that looks like. First thought is a lot of chocolate, but that has its own issues. I mean, that type of pampering, when I used to do it after finishing a writing jag, usually meant a day or two on the sofa sleeping, drinking hot chocolate, or eating ice cream out of a carton, and watching the A & E Pride and Prejudice.
That’s good for like a day, but then I start feeling guilty, mid of the second day. And by the third I’m too guilty to enjoy it.
Just letting myself do whatever no judgement has the same issue. I’ve slipped into that a few times this year, more out of of “I can’t even” than out of “I’m going to let myself do this.” It’s not fun. After two weeks you start feeling you’re completely useless, and why are you bothering getting out of bed in the morning.
So, we’ve established I have no clue how to be good to myself, right? And I suspect I’m not alone. In fact, according to older son, I only ever accomplish stuff by being the most complete (compleate, really) *sshole to myself. He’s not wrong.
But listen to me anyway, if nothing else because I’m a past expert at doing this all wrong: Be good to yourself.
We’re all hanging on by our fingernails, barely surviving. No, really. Well, okay, I am. 2020 has been a scouring year. I feel we’ll emerge from it stronger and more determined…. if it doesn’t kill us first. The jury is out on the “if,” but hey if it kills us our problems at least in this reality are over. And all I accomplish by telling myself “I’m not worried” is that I worry at a subconscious level, and then don’t sleep. We’ve seen our country turned upside down by fiat of a bunch of dictators. We’ve seen petty criminals and the children of the rich riot and burn down our cities. We’re not allowed to engage in commerce unless we muzzle. And we’re told things that are patently not so — this virus is the most dangerous evah! The country is tired of capitalism! We’re the most racist nation evah! — even while our eyes and reason tell us something different.
And some of us — okay me — have lost all our fun stuff. I haven’t been out to the botanic gardens or the zoo since March. Dining at Pete’s is okay, if you feel like having food in the apocalypse, with most of the diner empty and everyone looking strained. Oh, and nothing can be spontaneous. One of the joys of both of us working from home most of the time has been “oh, hey, I’m not getting anything done” Headache/whatever. “How about we go for a quick walk and then hit up the lamb’s special at Pete’s/have the charcuterie platter at the German place/go to x lecture at the museum?” And we can do stuff at the drop of a hat. It might be we have to work two hours late, but we can go and do it then. Only not now. Most of those things are not happening/curtailed/I’m not sure they’d let me in with “just” face shield.
And most of us — even my husband, which is weird — have lost our “time”. I don’t have a very accurate time-sense. Oh, I’m pretty good about “what time is it” but not “What day of the week/month is it.” It used to be anchored by our day off — Saturday — I could kind of figure out how many days it had been since we’d taken an afternoon off. Most of the time. But that is… gone.
Other people had other things they did. Gaming night. Saturday breakfast with friends. The day they meet Bob for lunch and to catch up (Bob gets around.) BUT all that is gone. So most people are disoriented and have no idea what day it is, or sometimes what month it is. (March. It’s the billionth day of March 2020. I swear.)
And because everyone is frayed and stressed and on our last nerve, we are getting other hits. A lot of other hits. Stress increases illness, and at any rate some of us are on the run from our doctors, who make us wear masks though they know damn well we have breathing issues. People aren’t going in for routine checkups, and everyone assumes it’s fear of the ‘rona, but I think that’s stupid. It’s like college students not wanting to have classes in person it’s assumed to be fear of the ‘rona, and that’s stupid too. Sure, some of them — those who mainline XINN on the daily — might be scared. But given the ratings of those stations, I doubt that’s a majority. It’s just that most people don’t enjoy going out in public during the pretend apocalypse, or LARPing the end of civilization. Everyone in masks, and having to stay out of shouting distance of each other (which btw in Europe is only 3 feet, or as we call it in the states “normal”) and everyone acting like we’re all going to die? It’s depressing and stressful, and none of us — even those who CAN wear masks without huffing like Thomas the tank engine after five minutes — wants to do that.
So, stress and lack of medical care, we’re all losing friends to death, or finding out they have cancer. And all our personal relationships are stressed as heck. Even our impersonal relationships. I’m still not sure — and kind of gobsmacked — at the commenter who took offense/though I was casting him out yesterday. What the hell, even? Normally, at least I have a vague sense of a suspicion of a glimmer of what I might have said, but not that time.
And if it were just commenters on the internet, I’d just take a vacation from it. But all human contact is strained, (and rare.) Husband and I are making a point of being extra nice to each other because we realized we were each overreacting to everything, for instance. And in the store I feel anger and fear radiating from people. And what’s worse, as Herb pointed out in yesterdays post, I’m not even sure what they’re angry about/scared of.
Me? I wake up screaming at the thought that our republic has barely two months to live, if things are done as they always have been and the frauding is worse than ever.
And I don’t know what to do. I’ve been doing (rare) writing jags, reading the world’s stupidest cozy mystery series (No, let’s see…. The main character has the same name as the author; in the inevitable love triangle she chooses the insane-sounding beta male (kind of like Dyce deciding she’s in love with Ben, but only if Ben were WAY more effeminate and weird); the police are complete bumbling fools. Not “the character is so weird that she/he sees what the police doesn’t” but complete bumbling fools.) I’ve been reading them one after the other because they require no mental effort. I’ve been doing covers for books that haven’t reverted and might never revert and obsessing on them, like it mattered (Oh, I do have plans to engage a lawyer and/or burn it all down (which would be entertaining) at the end of September, but at best it’s going to be a bitter battle. Also, I figured out Luce’s clothes were too tight/weird so I changed them this morning, and will post at end.) And I’ve been cleaning/refinishing/fixing because I’ve found that being exhausted means I sleep for at least a couple of hours.
None of this is healthy. None of this makes me feel better.
We’re going sort of on vacation (it’s complicated) tomorrow for a week (which means posting here will be weird, meh, like you’re not used to that these last few months) and hope to get my head in order as far as writing/getting back to writing. Well, at least I can’t RENDER on the laptop.
And then I’m trying to figure my way back to some sort of sanity. Because if it all goes to hell and gets very bad this winter (which I fear will happen no matter who wins) I need a routine in place, so that I can survive it mentally, emotionally and physically. And hopefully be around for the rebuild. (If they don’t catch me first.)
I think part of it is establishing a routine and sticking to it. Not that I know for sure, because I suck at both those things: routine and “establishing.” But it might be time to make an unwonted effort.
But I hear routines have a calming effect. And you feel like you’re safe, because you’re doing things you’re supposed to be doing at a time you’re supposing to be doing it.
And I’m going to try to make part of that routine being good to myself. No, not that way. Not endless deep dives into internet useless trivia. Not eating ice cream from the carton (well, maybe once a week, but probably not from the carton.)
Because being away for a week — I’ve found in the past — is enough to shatter my “habits” particularly the dysfunctional ones (I’ve fallen into this before, and gone away to a hotel for a week to “reset”) when I come back, I’m going to try really hard to establish a routine where I walk or do something vaguely like exercise every morning (it used to be a thing pre-march) then work, then take an hour and make something nice for lunch (this has become a thing, but it has been erratic) and then I work again till five or so, and then I’ll have something diffferent and fun each day of the week. Yes, rendering (though some of that is work. I owe a few of you covers. But that is not necessarily for “fun time” unless… well, some of it is) and crocheting and, once the sewing room is done, some sewing or drawing (same room.) And I’m going to try to put in time to just sit on the sofa with Dan and read. And I’m going to schedule in the occasional low-carb hot chocolate or dessert. Because. And I’ll try to write blogs at night for the next day. And do more articles for PJ, because some stuff still needs to be said.
And then I’m going to hope it works. I’m going to try really hard to be good to myself. Even if in my case that means doing it on the schedule and forcing myself to do what’s good for me and being good to myself on the clock.
I am, of course, also open to suggestions, because, you know, I’m kind of new at this.
But I suspect most of you are better at this than I, and I want to ask: What are you going to accomplish by worrying obsessively, or getting in fights on the internet? Will it change a yota of what’s to come? If not, then it’s probably best to be good to yourself, and get yourself in good shape, so you can survive what promises to be the most difficult winter of our lifetimes.
Be good to yourself while you can. The time for sacrifice is coming soon.
And below is my latest iteration of my time-waster.
UPDATE Well, one thing can be said…. you guys are making me learn Daz. I should probably scrap the figure and try again. Came CLOSE to it, and lost the positioning in the process. I think this physic is more….believable? Realistic? Though it actually looks worse/bizarre naked, but works better with clothes. I think there’s something toggled on this figure that I can’t see/find and might be from an installation issue. As in most body mods I tried to make it more believable made it even weirder. (Sigh.) Anyway, this probably looks better…. maybe?
I am on vacation this week. My in-laws had a non-refundable stay at a resort where they have a membership. Unfortunately, my father-in-law required medical treatment barring travel. As the stay was not movable or refundable, they offered it to us.
The last thing he told us last night when we called to say we were in and checked in without problem was “Have fun and wear masks.”
My in-laws are not what you’d call politically left. They watch Fox News. They rant about the Obamas still. I even, accidentally, said something that led my mother-in-law to rant about how Michelle Obama is a man. Like I said, not on the left and not on the mainstream narrative about Trump and Republicans.
But they are one hundred percent on board with the preferred Narrative about COVID. In doing so, they are part of the Great Remasking.
I’m not talking about the physical masks we are all forced to wear to get the necessities of life, although that is part of it. I am not talking about the Left letting their masks slip and show their actual view of us and their intentions, especially since we got uppity and elected Trump. I’m talking about the mask lain over all of us in the pre-Internet era.
Before the Internet it was hard, although not impossible, to see how many people saw through the mainstream media’s lies. It was hard, but not impossible, to get accurate news on events in the next state, much less across the nation. It was impossible, or so close as to be impossible, to get that information in a timely manner to counter the mainstream’s attempt to create the preferred Narrative.
It was impossible to know if you were and your immediate friends were all that was left of people who didn’t accept the Narrative. Some of us thought we were crazy because no one else thought like we did. Others of us felt a “last man on Earth” isolation. A third group thought we were the one eyed men in the land of the blind and realized that did not make you a king.
Then came electronic networks. BBSes using things like FidoNet at first and we many tiny contacts. Then came the World Wide Web and with it the widespread adoption of the Internet. People could put up websites and join message boards, under pseudonyms at first, and post what they were afraid to say to a neighbor or colleague (or in a sad comment spouse or partner).
We learned we were not alone. We learned that often our “radical” thoughts were tame compared to other people. Now and then we’d find that guy in the next cubicle who we were afraid to tell we thought the news was full of it on global warming had a well-done analysis of the math that not only reinforced our conclusion, but showed it to be a bit conservative on just how much manure the Narrative was shoveling.
Four years ago, amid much wailing and gnashing of leftist teeth, this realization reached a crescendo. Not only were leftist Democrats defeated with the election of Trump, but they were shorn of the ability to create an illusion that cowed most of the population and frightened the rest into silence. Ever since Trump there have been attempts to build the Narrative and force us to get back in line and shut up for fear of being seen as wrong thinkers. They got no traction until COVID.
Then they politicized a virus. Their allies in the media got into a 24/7 fear mongering. They got us to remask.
I am in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. This is not Obama country. It is not Biden country. Yet I have to wear a mask everywhere. Here or home in Atlanta, I have to wear a mask even to buy groceries. Life requires I hide behind a mask.
And those masks are not just physical. In forcing a mask for the virus while simultaneously politicizing the wearing of masks they have undone the unmasking the Internet created. The undoing is not complete, but it has started.
Is the guy in line behind me at Kroger wearing a mask because he can’t come in without it, or is he wearing it because he’s back on the reservation?
The Great Remasking isn’t about physical masks, although it only works by making a physical mask a requirement to buy necessities. The Great Remasking is about taking away our ability to see we are not alone in our questioning the Narrative. It is about restoring the power to the media and the Left to tell us “this is the Truth and you contradict it at your peril”.
I am not sure how to fight back. A first step could be masks that signal. At first I thought a MAGA mask could do that, but my in-laws are very MAGA. They are also telling me to remember to wear a mask.
I think when I get home I’m going to go to the craft store and get some iron-on letters. A MAGA mask might not signal I do not buy the Narrative, but one that says “forced compliance” might. Sure, it will get looks, but if it gives one other person thinking they are the only one convinced we’re living in mass hysteria that they are not alone in their thinking, I’ll take it.
We may have to comply with the physical masking to buy food, but we do not have to comply with the Great Remasking.
But today my brain wouldn’t leave me alone till I did fan art for my books whose IP is currently not mine. Yeah, it would make a great cover, wouldn’t it?
Anyway, I’m in late-stage showing people my drawings. Who knows? Maybe you’ll put it on the fridge…..
UPDATE: Nat’s face was just WRONG. So I went in and fixed things. Bonus, you can now see that he’s keeping an eye on the madman next to him (and he not wrong. He’s a manicac but he’s the saneish one in that association.) Because some comments would otherwise be incomprehensible, I’m keeping the original (smaller) underneath.
UPDATE: Nat’s face was just WRONG. So I went in and fixed things. Mostly because it wouldn’t leave me alone till I did. Bonus, you can now see that he’s keeping an eye on the madman next to him (and he not wrong. He’s a manicac but he’s the saneish one in that association.) Because some comments would otherwise be incomprehensible, I’m keeping the original (smaller) underneath.
And no, by that I don’t mean that we’re cracking like crazy on our writing. Most of us are having trouble writing. A lot of us are having trouble reading. Though I’ve finally got out of the Pride and Prejudice fanfic jag.
I’ve seen people suddenly lose it and start crying over dirty dishes. Or the fact we ran out of peanut butter.
Okay, that was me. Yesterday. But I’ve been watching signs of just that much fragility in everyone I know.
Part of it is the lockdown. Man — and verily, woman — is a social animal. Not only is it not good for Man — do I need to say “and woman again?” — to be alone, it’s not good for us, when going out to be confronted with “truncated” human faces.
It is instinctive in humans to see human faces in everything. Don’t believe me? Look at a random pattern long enough, and you’ll find faces. Truncated human faces, the mouth gone, are deeply unsettling to the back of our brain. It is wrong, mutilated.
Suicides are through the roof. Mental health issues abound. The young are suffering particularly badly, because on top of all they believe they’re going to die. (The rest of us are already dead from the ice age, acid rain, fossil fuel depletion, alar, global warming, ozone depletion… I’m sure I’m forgetting some things. After so much death, one becomes resilient. Those of us forty and over won’t die. Even if they kill us.)
But the other part of it is that in a contentious political year there’s nowhere to escape.
Remember when you used to have friends that believed exactly the opposite of what you did, and you both knew it, but you were still friends? You couldn’t talk politics, but you could talk knitting, embroidery, kids, gardening, furniture refinishing, science fiction? You could sit down and have a cup of coffee with someone whose political views you considered despicable and not mention politics? Not even once?
But that was before the invasion of those for whom everything is political. Oh, cancel culture already existed. Before social media, I was terrified of saying the wrong word and revealing my real thoughts, and getting blacklisted by publishing houses.
But there were spaces you could draw a breath. Places where you didn’t have to talk and/or think about politics.
And yeah, books and movies were always political. And since they were mostly controlled by the left, it meant I had to elide portions of them. But I could tell myself “yeah, sure, the good guy will be a lefty environmentalist and the good guy will be a factory owner, but aside from that, the story holds and is good.”
Of course, that was when comedians also could make jokes without being cancelled and called insensitive. And when comedians made jokes, rather than just saying “People to the right of Lenin are so dumb!” and expect laughter.
Is this the fault of the left only?
I should be graceful and say that’s not true, but yeah, it is. The left has confused political beliefs with virtue, and political forecasting with revelation. And they’re convinced they can create paradise on Earth if they just stamp out the last unbeliever.
This always ends the same way. And it’s not pretty.
It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Particularly since they hold not just American but most of the world’s institutions in their hands.
I do believe it gets better. I have to. Or it would be better to end it now. But at any rate I know the trend of technology is making it hard for them to hold their monopoly at communication (and yes, Facebook and Twitter are setting themselves up for a world of trouble. Only not yet.)
And we’re all cracking.
But there are some compensations. For one, the masks are off. Really, really off. And that’s a good thing. (I do wonder if their obsession with making us mask is because they feel exposed? If it’s a subconscious desire to hide again.)
You can’t lance the boil if you don’t know it’s there. You can’t get rid of the termites if you don’t hear them chew. And you can’t rebuild society if there is an army of people secretly digging under your support pillars.
Now it’s not secret.
I mourn the innocent days when I had friends who didn’t need to agree with me on politics. But in this day and age, I’ve started wondering if they ever really were friends, or if they would have hated me, anyway, had they guessed my politics.
Maybe it’s better that way. Sometimes things need to get worse before they get better.
And sometimes, flowers and new life grow in the cracks.
For years, they’ve been teaching minorities (which bizarrely includes women) that everyone is out to get them. For years they’ve been telling everyone that white males are just inherently evil. In schools. Real, reputable teachers have evoked the specter of “white privilege” and “white supremacy” in the most intermixed, racism-free society humans have ever known. (Not to say there aren’t some racists. As I said, in other posts, in a society of 300 million people, there are people who believe elves are real, people who think they can fly, people who think they’re reincarnated Atlantians. I’m sure there are people who are racist. Whites even. It’s just not as significant a portion as any other society ever.) Only an idiot would be surprised it leads to this:
And no, “reparations” don’t work. (Though I’m perfectly willing to make anyone who has ever owned a slave pay that slave for the harm done, harm is not passed down through the generations that way. We’re all descended from slaves and slave owners, rapists and victims, murderers and saints. Oh, in the US in the current day, both slaver and slave would be recent immigrants. Likely Muslim.) All they do is convince people they’re entitled to something they neither created nor earned. And once you started that, you’ve turned society into a loot and pillage club.
According To Hoyt 