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Well, Guess I Better Blog Something

We are at a time of change, friends and neighbors, aren't we? I have delivered a non-spiritual homily at times about the inevitability of change, and especially over the past few years we have seen how difficult it is to embrace something we in our dark little minds know is happening, and is going to happen.

I suppose more than anything it is the fear that something bad, really bad is gonna happen, that we cling to those things. It's a repeated loop that has more twists and turns than it took to get the clink of coins just right for Pink Floyd's "Money." Fans know what I mean, and we do that to justify our own whatever...damn, this blog won't let me make "whatever" plural!

So yeah, there was an election the other day. Have you ever felt as freaked out about that one as I was. I had journalist duty the day of, which is why I did the vote-by-mail thing, and if that has not proven itself effective, I don't know what will.

Convenience...well, ain't that what we all want? Gimme it now, gimme gimme gimme...and then, some people think the thing they want right now (but not in this context) suddenly freak out about it. Imagine that shit.

So yeah, I admit to not sleeping much the night before, partly because of what I was going to have to do that day, but also due to the collective spaz attack that our nation, and much of the world underwent.

It took a little while, but more than enough of our nation, using its democratic-republican rights and privileges (did you know they were one party way the fuck back when?)...they spoke, loudly, and "majority rules against the fools, and those who oppose will become uncool..." (thanks to the Sun City record, Little Steven and the gang for that!)...

We must also thank Jim Cornette and credit one of his many catchphrases.

Now, why do I say that? 30+ years ago I would have worn this t-shirt on my college campus, and probably got kicked off (if not out of school for it)...have I changed?

Goodbye, to one "45" and his rapscallion crew. Are you better off? If so, good for you, but I'm not. I don't know anyone that is. We're broker, tireder, sicker, and if anything good came out of this, I'm glad to know that the grade school playground and middle school locker room is where too many people I knew still live. Glad I left when the getting was good.

Just in case you wonder, I am not on Facefuck as much, because I don't have the time for it. I use it to promote, to stay in touch, and to wish loved ones Happy Birthday, 'cause we at least deserve a few happy returns.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate you. I don't hate anyone, because I have no fucking time for it. Let's continue.

Goodbye, 2020, and take this hideous year, and the scourge of Covid-19 with you...obviously not, because we're nowhere near a vaccine, a cure, nothing like that.

Eight months into the pandemic, where are we? More sickness, more deaths, and we remain stuck on the dump button, in the vain hopes we can reboot all this and pretend it didn't happen. Sorry, reset only works in video games and bankruptcy court.

There is a psychological assessment I read somewhere once, in which it is stated, "The Child is Father to the Man." Who does this sound like? No, not just him--others. Anyone we know? You know? I know? Hell, I know quite a few of them.

Ah, fuck it.

I have a lot to think about, we all do, and know that every damn one of us will have our eye on the big prize, the one that sends the crazed, drunk uncle off into political retirement, with yet another effort at a business remake. But my my, we know too much now...going public with your "brand" became the death of you, did it not?

You will go the way of Silvio Berlusconi, not the way of Margaret Thatcher. Your designs, those grand designs of glory, greatness and monolithic beauty remain no more than the dreams of Kwame Nkrumah, who had big ideas, but a land that could not afford them, or were no more than the models Albert Speer dutifully put together for his boss.

And where am I? Still alive, still somewhat healthy, thankfully. My faculties somewhat together, and the hard drives keeps functioning. I feel the same urges, emotions, and madness that keep me wearing my mask, washing my hands, avoiding contact as much as possible, and thinking about those less fortunate than me.

So many. Do we finally now take that long look at ourselves, see that things aren't so bad, and embrace the change, and be the part of it we want to see in the world?

I wrote about this in an anthology for my publisher. "After the Pandemic" is a very interesting trip for each of us and the readers, because we didn't know what each person would do.

Months on...November. "The Autumn Wind is a Raider," intoned John Facenda, and now as we move across the soon to be frozen lands in search of more prey, more victims, what now?

I have written, yes, written new pieces (see previous blogs), and edited, and fixed, and thought, and clarified, and noted. I have much more to do, awaiting my editor's take on the new book, and getting things together.

You might have noticed the website looks a little brighter. My friend Alice did a nice job of putting some color on the pages, and I rather like it. I've upgraded to make my site more noticeable, and I plan to be a bit more businesslike in my dealings here, for my books, and the other odd things I do.

I sit in an empty place, an office where the seats are far apart, but I at least can see human beings and have distant contact. I cannot go into a food place again; I just don't dare. This is the extent of my risk, and if I must go elsewhere, make it quick and get the fuck out.

This is the new "normal," but I also despise that word. There is no "normal," so let's forget that and not that it is the here and now, and let's remember...

I am concerned, not for my health, but for one of my brothers. He's been in hospitals for too many weeks, and I await better news. I have more than once reconciled that he might make his crossing, and I would have to deal with that. Damn it though, he keeps coming back as we all must do.

My family don't quit. That's all.

I have a new grand-nephew, and doesn't he look like us.

So many passings, but now I think each one is more to the front of our minds, isn't it? Those days come, and we don't think our number might get called next.

I don't know how long I have. I am again reminded, I'm well on the back end of my lifetime, and the days are growing short.

At the same time, what we have before us is in our hands. My life is being lived, and it should have ended 26 years ago, so fuck it. Extra years, and I'm trying to use them well.

So much more to get done, and I better get at it.

Anyway, the madness is upon us all, let our better judgment prevail, and let that which is unnecessary in our lives know, "THANK YOU, FUCK YOU, BYE!"

Peace, Out.


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