It's too close for comfort, it's too close to comfort me
My poem "Epic Cycle" has been accepted by Not One of Us. I wrote it for the centenary of Armistice Day. It's about war poetry as much as it is about war. I love this small black-and-white print 'zine, in case I have not mentioned lately; it's been around since 1986 and remains its essential weird self. It published my first fiction and I am still honored to have work in its pages. You should submit fiction and poetry of your own if you have it—I like having TOC-mates in print. It still feels more real to me.
(A moment to acknowledge the implosion of Tumblr, which I am on the outside of, but which I still don't enjoy watching. Its culture was not home to me, but I loved the history and art and discussion blogs and it did enable me for some time to keep track of the lives of friends who had drifted off LJ/DW or never been on them in the first place. Plus it made me learn to make aesthetic posts. And I am not in favor of moral panics anywhere.)
Otherwise I am sick and sick of it; it is no fun. I saw a doctor earlier this afternoon about the hellacious sore throat and since it looks as nasty as it feels but appears to be viral, there is nothing to do for it but the things I have been doing all week. I have limited energies and resources and am spending them on work rather than on any kind of writing because that is the necessary order of priorities in our economy, but it sucks, Harry, it sucks. I am feeling extraordinarily bitter about the demise of FilmStruck. There were a lot of movies on there I could have crashed in front of.
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selkie made a remark about how on earth I function on the amount of sleep I don't get and I responded automatically, "With deftness born of long, sad practice, Fflewddur knotted up the broken string." She pointed out that under those circumstances I was owed a giant cat.
He has big paws.
(A moment to acknowledge the implosion of Tumblr, which I am on the outside of, but which I still don't enjoy watching. Its culture was not home to me, but I loved the history and art and discussion blogs and it did enable me for some time to keep track of the lives of friends who had drifted off LJ/DW or never been on them in the first place. Plus it made me learn to make aesthetic posts. And I am not in favor of moral panics anywhere.)
Otherwise I am sick and sick of it; it is no fun. I saw a doctor earlier this afternoon about the hellacious sore throat and since it looks as nasty as it feels but appears to be viral, there is nothing to do for it but the things I have been doing all week. I have limited energies and resources and am spending them on work rather than on any kind of writing because that is the necessary order of priorities in our economy, but it sucks, Harry, it sucks. I am feeling extraordinarily bitter about the demise of FilmStruck. There were a lot of movies on there I could have crashed in front of.
selkie made a remark about how on earth I function on the amount of sleep I don't get and I responded automatically, "With deftness born of long, sad practice, Fflewddur knotted up the broken string." She pointed out that under those circumstances I was owed a giant cat.
He has big paws.
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https://www.learnedleague.com/ I do it to convince myself I'm still smart.
HA. HAHA.
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You are smart, whether you're good at trivia or not. Sorry.
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You cope with the cold daystar, I'll cope with my blithering aphasia, we can both whack people with my stick.
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I am familiar with this variable!
You cope with the cold daystar, I'll cope with my blithering aphasia, we can both whack people with my stick.
It's a plan.
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http://sydneypadua.com/2dgoggles/the-marvellous-analytical-engine-how-it-works/
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(Thank you! That is cool on many levels!)