Look, look, an obelisk

The major event of the afternoon was a doctor's appointment for Autolycus, but before sunset we finally got out of the house for our first real walk of the spring.

( I touch sky and the soil at the same time. )

We had just enough time during the cat's scan to run to Porter Square Books, where I collected my preorder of Alex Wellerstein's Restricted Data: Nuclear Secrecy in the United States (2021) and discovered almost as soon as I opened it at random that the epigraph I used for "The Trinite Golem" (2016) is out of date, because I wrote the story in March of 2014 and the full declassified transcripts of Oppenheimer's security hearing were not released until October of that year. I didn't read them through at the time—not surprising, given the unbearable stress of that fall, but in hindsight it feels like unforgivable intellectual sloppiness—and however the news propagated to me, it was not through anyone like Wellerstein who flagged the redacted phrase "and we have a whole series of Super bombs," i.e., hydrogen bombs. I don't know what to do about changing it. No one's called me on it. It feels like perpetuating the censorship not to. Aggravatingly, the redacted version is punchier.