Category Archives: stuff that’s just fucking stupid

punchdrunk villa

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When you have an infantile Secretary of Defense with an inferiority complex and a desperate need to prove his manhood (yes, I’m talking about Pete Hegseth here), you have to expect a lot…and I mean a lot…of performative macho bullshit. Like murdering alleged drug runners in small craft with MQ-9 Reaper drones firing Hellfire missiles. Like inventing military medals so he and Commander-in-Chief Comrade President Trump can hand them out on stage.

I’m talking about the Mexican Border Defense Medal. It’s basically the Temu version of the Mexican Border Service Medal issued in 1918. The Mexican Border Service Medal was issued to troops who weren’t eligible for the Mexican Service Medal, which was issued in 1917.

Okay, there’s a good chance you’re saying, “Wait…what?” right about now. Here’s what you need to know (okay, you don’t actually need to know this, but it’ll help if you want to understand all this). For about eight and a half years–from 1910 to 1919–the US was involved in a low intensity (punctuated by some serious, deadly skirmishes and battles) border war with Mexico. Mexico was engaged in a civil war at the time. On top of that, Mexico was also a potential ally of Germany in World War One. Really, it was a whole thing–Germany sent a secret, encoded telegram to Mexico saying if the US entered the war against Germany, Germany would help Mexico invade the US and recapture the states of New Mexico, Texas, and Arizona. So yeah, the US had troops at the Southern border. We even invaded a few times, and at one point occupied Veracruz for half a year.

Gen. John ‘Blackjack’ Pershing during the Mexican War

The thing is, there was a shooting war with Mexico and some Mexican paramilitary elements (like Pancho Villa), and even a few German soldiers. So the troops involved in that shooting war were given a medal. The Mexican Service Medal. Some of the serious Big Hat folks in World Wars 1 and 2 earned that medal. Like ‘Blackjack’ Pershing, and Douglas MacArthur, and George Patton, and John LeJeune.

A year later, troops who weren’t involved in the shooting part of the war–the troops who provided logistics and support (without which the combat troops would go into battle with rocks and sharpened sticks)–were awarded the the Mexican Border Service Medal. They also faced danger.

Now Pete Hegseth and Comrade Trump have issued the Mexican Border Defense Medal. You’re probably wondering how a service member earns this prestigious new medal. Well, I’ll tell you. They have to be assigned, attached, or detailed for at least 30 days to a unit deployed within 100 miles of the US-Mexico border (or 24 nautical miles in adjacent US waters) as part of a designated operation supporting the Customs and Border Protection Agency.

Pete Hegseth awards the Mexican Border Defense Medal (to a woman who could probably kick his ass).

Seriously. That’s it. You didn’t have to actually DO anything. Just be assigned to a unit near the border. It’s such light duty Pete Hegseth thinks even girls can do it. And hell, he’ll hand them a medal too. That’s the kind of guy he is. I’m sure he’d rather be giving the medal to the MQ-9 Reaper drone operators, but they’re sitting in air conditioned rooms in (probably) Yuma, Arizona, which is too far away for them to get the Mexican Border Defense Medal.

But what’s important is that the medal gives Hegseth and Comrade Trump a chance to stand around with men (and a token number of women) in uniform and hand them a medal. It makes them feel important. Competent. Maybe even manly. During the ceremony in which the first 13 medals were issued, Trump noted that the troops had “endured scorching heat and bitter cold, and had given up their holidays and weekends.”

Greater love hath no man (or, possibly, woman) than to give up holidays and weekends to…to…to stop families escaping poverty and violence from crossing the Southern border of the United States?

Jesus suffering fuck…these people, I declare.

tactical yardwork

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I’m sure you’ve all asked yourselves this very same question: “What do I do when I’ve declared a national emergency and activated the National Guard to fight crime, but then there’s almost no crime to fight?” It’s annoying, right?

I mean, they elect you to be POTUS and they give you the entire District of Columbia National Guard to play with, so obviously you’d want to use them to guard the nation against something. Otherwise they’re just wasted, sitting there on the shelf. So, crime. Nobody likes crime. Crime is a good thing to fight. Everybody likes crime-fighting. It’s popular on television. It’s not YOUR fault there’s not much crime to fight.

Courageous National Guard troops, dressed in camouflage AND hi-visibility vests engage trash.

So there you are, you’ve got your troops all dressed up and no crime to fight. What to do, what to do? EASY! Make them fight trash! DC is host to tens of thousands of foreign tourists who toss trash all over the fucking place because that’s how they behave in foreign countries. Except, not so many people are coming to DC now, because they’re not really welcome. Besides, you’ve told them DC is a dangerous shit-hole. So the trash assault is a pretty short term event.

Courageous National Guard troops mulching like nobody has mulched before.

But hey, DC is also beautiful. Trees and bushes and all sorts of pretty flowers, and that shit has to be mulched. The National Guard may not be trained to mulch, but they know how to improvise, adapt, and overcome. Issue them rakes and hoes and other geoponic implements, and turn them loose. They’ll mulch the absolute shit out of whatever needs mulching.

Tactical yardwork is fine, but you really really wanted them to fight crime. That means you have to send the troops where crime exists. Fortunately, there are some pretty tough, crime-ridden neighborhoods in DC, neighborhoods where people don’t always feel safe at night, neighborhoods where news photographers are reluctant to visit. There’s no point in sending your troops there. However, you’ve heard from your pretty-eyed Vice President that vagrants–actual people without proper employment and/or lacking a fixed abode, like in those movies from the 1930s–have been loitering around Union Station. Vagrants are smelly (probably) and unsightly, like windmills off the coast of Scotland. We can’t have that. Also, somebody on your staff might have said something about maybe somebody they knew almost had their luggage stolen while at Union Station.

Courageous National Guard troops supported by an MRAP guarding carry-on luggage.

Now that’s crime worth fighting! Deploy the MRAP! Nothing discourages loitering like a mine-resistant ambush protected vehicle. Ain’t nobody gonna sleep on benches–if there were any benches–at Union Fucking Station when your National Guard is on duty. Ain’t nobody gonna roll away some poor tourist’s Samsonite hardside, not when you’re in charge and you have a MRAP handy.

So there you are. You’ve ended crime in DC. Trash is gone. Plants are mulched. You’ve established peace through superior firepower. Now all you have to do is wait for your Nobel Peace Prize. It’s good to be POTUS.

i don’t have time for your trans bullshit

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Look, this is really simple. Trans women are women. Trans men are men. Trans people are people. Same goes for non-binary folks.

Trans military troops are troops. This is so fucking obvious, but there’s a lot of macho bullshit involved here. Again, it’s really pretty simple. Trans helo pilots are helo pilots, trans mechanics are mechanics, trans medics are medics, trans EOD specialists are EOD specialists. A helo or an unexploded bomb doesn’t care about gender. Piloting helos and defusing bombs are skills that can be learned. Sure, some folks will be better at it than other folks, but that’s just how the world works. It’s massively stupid to refuse to enlist anybody willing to put on the uniform, shoulder a weapon, and walk a post.

Trans athletes are athletes. There’s SO MUCH bullshit about this topic. It shouldn’t surprise anybody that not all athletes are equal, and not all of that is due to native talent. There are dozens of ways one athlete can have an advantage over another. There are technological advantages, in gear and in training. Having cutting edge equipment and sophisticated training tools make a difference. There are massive financial advantages; rich kids can afford trainers and gym fees and gear beyond the reach of poor kids.

And yes, there are genetic/physical advantages. Why was Michael Phelps such a good swimmer? He had unique physical attributes—a long torso, short legs, long arms, large hands and feet, and double-jointed ankles—that gave him a physical advantage over other swimmers. High testosterone levels can matter in sports, but variances in testosterone levels occur naturally (which is why you see those commercials for men with ‘low-t’). Even so, sports governing bodies like the NCAA created policies that require trans women (this apparently isn’t an issue for trans men) to complete a full calendar year of testosterone suppression treatment before being allowed to compete in women’s sports. If a trans person excels in sports, it’s for the same reasons anybody excels in sports. Hard work, good training, dedication, and maybe (like Phelps) some quirk of biology.

Trans teachers are teachers. Math is math, geography is geography, grammar is grammar, history is…well, debatable, but the eccentricities of history aren’t dependent on the biology of the teacher. Trans shopping clerks are shopping clerks. Whether you’re shopping for a sweater or a lawn mower or a canoe or patio furniture, all you want is somebody who knows the product they’re selling.

I could continue this. Trans surgeons are surgeons, trans plumbers are plumbers, trans lion tamers are lion tamers, and and and. Trans people are people. There’s no point in waffling about this. Yes, people will have different opinions on the matter, and yes, they’re allowed to voice those opinions, but no, you don’t have to respect those opinions.

And by the way, it works both ways: Trans assholes are assholes (uh…I’m talking personality here, not anatomy. Although that would also be true). My point is this: if you don’t accept trans people as people, then the problem isn’t with the trans folks; the problem is you’re an asshole.

EDITORIAL NOTE: This trans bullshit is another facet of patriarchy. We need to burn the patriarchy to the ground. Then dig up the roots and burn them. Then piss on the ashes before burying them in lye. Then nuke it from orbit (it’s the only way to be sure). Then have some of those little lemon cakes.

but that’s not the real problem

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As you may recall, recently Comrade Donald Trump, as Commander in Chief of the United States Armed Forces, made this claim on national television:

“Iran’s key nuclear enrichment facilities have been completely and totally obliterated.”

Yeah, no. Didn’t happen. Just another in the endless series of Trump’s self-aggrandizing lies. The Defense Intelligence Agency conducted a preliminary Bomb Damage Assessment of the US attack (that’s right, the DIA did a BDA) and assessed that the damage at the primary Fordo site was “not extensive.” Certainly, the site was not obliterated like Trump claimed. But that’s not the real problem.

This morning the Unlikeliest Secretary of Defense Ever, Pete Hegseth, complained about the news coverage of Comrade Trump’s pointless attack on Iran’s nuclear facilities. Hegseth claimed that reports detailing the limited damage done by the bombing was, in effect, an attack on the integrity and honor of the pilots and air crew who flew the mission. Which, obv. is total bullshit. Which, again, is in keeping with almost everything Hegseth says. But that’s not the real problem.

GBU-57 Massive Ordnance Penetrator

It’s been reliably reported that at the primary uraniam enrichment site at Fordo, two of the so-called ‘bunker buster’ bombs (okay, technically they’re called ‘Massive Ordnance Penetrators’ or MOPs) were dropped on the entry point to the facility and on a ventilation shaft, one after the other, to increase the level of destruction. The destruction that, you’ll recall, the DIA described as “not extensive.” Which means the MOPs didn’t do what they were intended to do. But that’s not the real problem.

Here’s the real problem: for a couple of decades, the threat of the ‘bunker buster’ gave the US leverage. Hostile nations, fearful of the power of that specific bomb, were reluctant to test the US resolve. If a nation started to build a highly secure underground facility against the wishes of the US, the US would dangle the ‘bunker buster’ and that was generally enough to dissuade them. The threat of the ‘bunker busters’ was enough to cow most of our adversaries.

They were incredibly effective as a deterrent…as long as we didn’t actually USE them.

Not anymore. Now everybody knows the most fearsome conventional high explosive bomb in the US arsenal can’t do what it was designed to do. You know North Korea is digging deep today.

Trump has once again made the US weaker. Nothing he can say or do—nothing Hegseth or any of Trump’s other sock puppets can say or do—can change the reality. Oh, the ‘bunker buster’ is still a formidable conventional weapon. But now the world knows it’s just another really big bomb, and if you dig deep enough it won’t hurt you.

whelmed

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It’s been a month since I’ve written anything on this blog. A whole month. I used to write something here 2-3 times a week. I’ve never gone this long without writing something for the blog. Never. Why is this happening?

Here’s why: Trump trauma. Ever since the election, I’ve been…I don’t know. I can’t quite find the right word to describe this feeling. And it’s not just Trump (though Trump alone is enough); it’s also the collection of incompetent fascist nitwits he (and a complicit GOP Congress) placed in critically important political offices. That means that ever single day, including weekends, there are at least half dozen things so outrageous that they deserve a scathing blog post. And I just don’t have the energy to do that right now.

I mean, if Russia had done what TrumpCo has done to the United States (and for what it’s worth, you can argue Russia IS responsible), you’d say it was an act of war. In a mere one hundred days, TrumpCo has kneecapped the US. They’ve completely shredded our reputation for intelligence gathering and sharing; they’ve ignored basic operational security; they’ve gutted our ability to respond to climate disasters while simultaneously reducing the resources needed to warn the populace about those disasters; they’ve rolled back food testing, increasing the likelihood of contamination; they’ve made it easier to evade taxes and harder for the IRS to collect taxes and prosecute tax cheaters; they’ve cut spending on both medical research and Medicaid, which will certainly lead to increased childhood and elderly mortality; they’ve made air travel less safe; they’ve not only limited civil rights, they’ve actually rescinded civil rights that had already been established; they’ve sent out masked goon squads to kidnap and secretly detain people legally in the US; they’ve…well, you get the idea. TrumpCo has basically shit all over the US Constitution, and done it openly.

It’s overwhelming.

You know what? That’s the word I couldn’t think of when I began writing this post. That’s exactly why I haven’t written anything here for a month. I’m not just whelmed (from the Middle English hwielfan, meaning “to turn upside down (as a ship); to roll over and over”), I’m totally and completely overwhelmed. I’m whelmed the fuck over.

Stunned, exhausted, bedraggled survivors trying to escape a capsized ship.

I feel like the United States has been capsized, like we’re caught up in some political Poseidon Adventure. It’s as if the ship of state has been hit by a rogue wave and turned completely upside down, and we the people have to crawl and fight our way through the burning, topsy-turvy, almost unrecognizable wreckage of the nation we knew in an attempt to reach what used to be the bottom of the ship, hoping that somebody on the other side of the hull will be able to cut a hole through which we can escape to daylight.

Maybe that sort of rescue only happens in movies. But we have to try, right?

this guy?

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Okay, first off, I admit I’m confused. I mean, I understand that Donald Trump, with the assistance of a cadre of feral Christo-fascist authoritarians and the support of a cartoonist collection of buffoons, is conducting an aggressive frontal assault on the US Constitution. And so far it’s been mostly effective.

Unlike a LOT of folks, I’m inclined to think Trump has a plan. It’s a very simple, very very stupid, and very selfish plan, to be sure. It’s the sort of plan you’d expect from a cartoon villain. But it’s still a plan. As I see it, Donald Trump’s plan is as follows:

Make everybody dependent on the whims and wishes of Donald Trump.

It’s ridiculous, isn’t it. What Trump really wants, of course, is loyalty and respect. Two things he’ll never get. He’ll never get the respect he wants (and thinks he deserves), and I suspect he knows that. Nor will he ever get real loyalty, because loyalty is reciprocal; you earn loyalty by being loyal to others. Trump is loyal to nothing and nobody. Who’s going to respect of be loyal to this guy?

Since he can’t/won’t get the respect and loyalty he truly wants, Trump has to settle for a shabby substitute–unquestioned obedience. The problem for Trump, even as POTUS, is that there are HUGE intentional limits to presidential obedience in a representative democracy.

The president’s actual job is to preside over the government, not to rule it. ‘Preside’ literally means “to sit in front of.” The president is basically like an orchestra leader. In order for Trump to command unquestioned obedience, he has to first weaken or destroy the Constitutional constraints on presidential power.

That’s exactly what he’s doing. In his first term, Trump converted the entire Republican Party to so-called MAGA loyalists (I say ‘so-called’ because many/most of the GOP are just sycophantic cowards or craven opportunists, not actual loyalists). He also stacked the Supreme court with ‘loyalists’. The only check on his authority came from the professionals who occupied the Cabinet posts and the various governmental agencies. Now, in his second term, he’s replaced the Cabinet secretaries and the heads of every government agency with more so-called loyalists. He’s basically removed or degraded almost every federal administrative constraint on his authority (there are still some federal judges who remain independent, though they’re under attack now).

This guy? Powerful politicians and institutions are afraid of this guy? This fucking guy?

There are a few other social constraints that can challenge the president: independent law firms, universities, business interests, and independent news sources. Trump is making every effort to hobble or undermine them, threatening retaliation either in the form of investigations or by removing federal financial aid and federal contracts. In order to avoid this sort of persecution, these social institutions are being required to appeal to Trump personally. To humiliate themselves by publicly kissing his ring. You want to avoid tariffs on products you need? Humbly ask Trump to remove them for YOUR company. You want federal financial aid for teaching or research? Humbly ask Trump to restore the funding he denied. You want to practice law or receive federal contracts? Humbly ask Trump to overlook any earlier opposition and publicly promise to support him. You want access to the Trump administration as a news source? Humbly agree to refer to the Gulf of Mexico as the Gulf of America. What kind of person or institution would humble themselves before this guy?

But hey, it’s working. Some large law firms and some universities have already compromised themselves; many news agencies have modified their coverage of Trump and are parroting his bullshit; a lot of businesses threatened by Trump’s trade practices are considering personal appeals to Trump and praising his harmful policies. Intimidation works. But c’mon, how could anybody be intimidated by this guy?

I find truly astonishing that so many people and institutions are afraid of this guy. He’s a cartoonish nitwit; he’s more a malignant Elmer Fudd than an evil genius. The sheer mass of his ignorance could bend light. He’s ten pounds of racist bullshit in a five pound bag. He’s a coward and a liar. People are afraid of taking on this guy?

This guy?

but this is trump

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By now, everybody is aware of the colossal fuck-up in which senior Trump national security officials conducted a high level discussion about launching at attack in Yemen using…and it sounds so stupid to write this, but it’s true…using a messaging platform that IS NOT approved for exchanging classified or secret intelligence.

These weren’t low-level aides we’re talking about. This was Trump’s Vice President, his Director of National Intelligence, his National Security Adviser, his Secretary of Defense, his CIA Director and his Chief of Staff. Oh yeah, and the editor of The Atlantic. The fact that these people had this discussion on a commercially available cell phone app is scandal enough. But it’s just ONE OF MANY scandals revealed by this fuck-up.

For example, Trump’s national security team isn’t quite sure if Trump has actually ordered the attack. They were discussing the timing of the attack–when the attack should take place–when Trump’s Chief of Staff says, “As I heard it, the president was clear: green light.” Seriously, this attack took place when it did because Stephen Miller interpreted some comment from Trump as a ‘green light.’ Apparently nothing was signed; apparently no official record exists authorizing an attack on a foreign nation. In any normal administration, that would be unthinkable. But this is Trump.

Another thing. One of the members of Trump’s national security team, Steve Witkoff, was in Moscow at the time (he’s Trump’s Ukraine negotiator) meeting with Putin and his people. Let me just say that again. This guy was part of a group chat discussing highly sensitive information involving the military’s attack capabilities, using an unapproved app on a cell phone while waiting for a meeting with Vlad Putin IN MOSCOW. In any normal administration, that would be unthinkable. But this is Trump.

There’s more. During this astonishingly stupid group chat on a non-secure cell phone, Trump’s Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, John Ratcliffe, used the name of an active intelligence officer. He basically outed a working spy, which is a criminal act. In any normal administration, that would not only be unthinkable, but would lead to criminal charges. But this is Trump. His Attorney General and Director of the FBI will almost certainly refuse to investigate the matter, let alone bring criminal charges.

“I don’t know anything about it.”

And if that’s not scandal enough, when confronted by news media about the incident, Trump said he wasn’t aware of it.

“I don’t know anything about it. You’re telling me about it for the first time.”

This is Trump, so that’s almost certainly a lie. Almost certainly, also because this is Trump. It’s entirely possible his national security team 1) had decided Trump probably intended to order an attack on Yemen and didn’t bother to get the decision confirmed, 2) were too lazy or incompetent to use secure communications systems to organize the attack, 3) and when it became public that they’d not only used wildly inappropriate and insecure tech to discuss the attack BUT ALSO INCLUDED A FUCKING CIVILIAN WHO WAS THE EDITOR OF A GODDAMN NEWS MAGAZINE, they decided NOT to tell POTUS that they’d fucked up. Which would mean Trump can’t trust his own hand-picked national security team to keep him informed or tell him the truth. Which is entirely possible. Although it’s more likely Trump just lied about not knowing, because that’s what he does.

In any normal administration, an incident like this would lead to mass resignations and/or terminations as well as criminal charges. But this is Trump.

Right now, it appears the Trump administration is attempting to put the blame for all this on National Security Adviser Mike Waltz, who set up the ‘group chat’ and accidentally included the editor of The Atlantic. But every single person who participated in the discussion should have known the proper protocol; they should have objected to having the discussion outside a sensitive compartmentalized information facility (SCIF); they should have refused to participate.

What will happen? Who knows? Democrats will be outraged, but will they actually DO anything? Who knows? Will anybody be held accountable for such a colossal fuck-up? Who knows? It’s possible that this scandal, like every Trump scandal, will be buried beneath the next cascade of scandal. It’s possible nothing at all will happen; nothing will change.

Because this is Trump. Nothing is ordinary anymore. No rules apply, no norms are maintained, no standards exist. There is only Trump and his cadre of trolls, banging around randomly, ignoring actual governance in their pursuit of performative trolling.

in which i get annoyed at success

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I’m trying to find a balance here between honesty and modesty. Here’s the thing: I mostly write short detective fiction. I write with the intent of selling my stories to one or two magazines–Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine or Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine.

Why those two? Because when I wrote my first short detective story, I checked to see who published the most prestigious mystery magazines, and the answer was AHMM and EQMM. I figure if you’re going to get rejected, you may as well get rejected by the best.

This is where the honesty and modesty business comes in. I’m a good writer. Not a prolific writer, but a careful, deliberate writer. I’ve sold every story I’ve submitted to those magazines, with one exception (which, of course, I think was an error on their part). When you consider the acceptance rate for those magazines is about 3-4%, that’s a pretty good record. I’ve had stories included in Best Of anthologies, I have a story in Alfred Hitchcock’s 50th Anniversary anthology, I’ve won an Edgar for Best Short Story.

So yeah, I think I’m a good writer, but I don’t have much attachment to the finished product. I’ve written about this before.

Once I finish writing a piece of fiction, I seem to lose all emotional attachment to it. I’ve done what I wanted to do with it, I’ve written the story, and now it’s done. I submit the story to a magazine; they either accept it (and send me a check) or reject it (and send me a rejection letter), but that’s their job. My job is over. Time to do something else. The finished story is old news; it just doesn’t seem very important anymore.

So it’s been a weird experience for me to get frustrated over a story that’s actually been accepted. Here’s what happened. I wrote a story, submitted it, didn’t think about it for a few months. I finished writing another story and was getting ready to submit it, which reminded me I hadn’t heard back about the other story (I submitted that story to the other magazine). This was last October. I wrote the editor, asking for an update.

The update? “We like your story and want to buy it.” BUT there was some corporate issues which prevented them from issuing contracts; I was asked if I could be patient for a few weeks while they got the issue settled? I said yes, of course. In mid-December I got an email saying I should get a contract “in the next 2-3 weeks.” I was fine with that. Then on 1/2/25, I was told “your story is at the top of the list for when we can request contracts again.” On 1/24/25, I got an email saying, “you can expect a contract in mid February.”

No, this old photo isn’t how I write; just how I feel at the moment.

Mid-February came; no contract. It was annoying, not just because the contract was taking so long, but because for the first time, I felt emotionally involved in the product. It pissed me off that I cared about the story as a product. I told myself, “It’s just a story. It’s just words in a row. It’s just something I made up. I should be happy that somebody somewhere wants to give me actual money for sitting in a room and making shit up.”

A couple of weeks ago, I learned that the company that publishes those two magazines (and also publishes two of the best known science fiction magazines) had been purchased by another company. That explained the long delay in the contract. But I was still frustrated and annoyed.

So this morning, five fucking months after I was told the magazine wanted to buy my story, I wrote a polite email to the editor saying how much I’ve appreciated working with the staff of the magazine, but that this long delay was a shabby way to treat writers. I said I wanted to withdraw the submission.

I didn’t send the email. Why? Because, as I said earlier, I’m a careful, deliberate writer; I wanted to re-read it and make sure it was correct before I sent it. And I went to the gym.

While I was at the gym, I got an email with the contract.

That should settle the issue, right? But I’m sitting here, still annoyed as fuck. Partly because the email came from a different editor (what happened to the woman I’m used to dealing with?), partly because of the long delay, partly because this contract pays half on acceptance and half on publication (all the previous contracts paid on acceptance), and partly because goddamnit goddamnit goddamnit, I don’t know I’m just pissed.

The rational part of me says, “Just sign the damned thing and take the coin.” It says, “Don’t fuck up a relationship with a magazine that’s been good to me.” It says, “Give the new people a chance to get their shit together.” The irrational part of me wants to reject the contract because goddamnit goddamnit goddamnit, I don’t know I’m just pissed.

I’m also aware that a LOT of my anger is displaced fury at what’s going on in the US right now. I’m not used to being angry. I hate it. But here we are.

And the thing is, I KNOW what I’m going to do. I’m not in this for the money (nobody who writes short fiction is in it for the money, but being offered an extra US$700+ for sitting in a room and making shit up…well, that’s nice and it’ll buy a few eggs.

But goddamnit anyway.