This reminds me of something George Carlin once said: "When you're born, you get a ticket to the freak show. When you're born in America, you get a front-row seat." God, I miss George. He wasn't right about everything (no-one is), but he was right about many things. (And yes, I know 'many things' is vague. It's about as helpful as 'lots-o-stuff!')
I noticed in a post by AARP -- yes, I am qualified to be and am a member -- a couple signs of possible dementia include changes in personality and lack of attention to one's appearance. Well, okay, but where does that put people who have a spiritual or religious experience in which they realize the life they have been leading is inauthentic, and that there are more important things to worry about than a nice haircut and natty wardrobe? Buddha dumped life in the palace to live first as an ascetic and later as a humble teacher. And so on. Maybe it's society that's demented and moving away from its norms is a first step toward sanity.
Well, I'm not nearly as harried and concerned about my shortcomings as I was when I was forty. I've abandoned makeup, restrictive clothing, heels, uplift bras, panyhose, and other torture devices meant to make a woman more acceptable in society. Ergo, I'm going with moving away from norms as a step toward sanity. .
This weekend's attempted assassination of Trump reminded me of a book by H. Beam Piper from around 1960: Lone Star Planet where the citizens had the right to exercise a .30 caliber "veto" of a politician's policy stance. There were issues with such a "right".
I love using Scriviner for my writing. Makes things SO easy to organize. (and yes, that's a brief excerpt from my fantasy.)
I haven't used Scrivener yet, but am I right in thinking that picture started out as a Khajiit in Skyrim? "So many refuse to talk to us. They call us thieves and smugglers. I am glad to see that you are not such a one!"
A bit of a random, useless thought -- here's a little out-of-date (and so not-quite-news), but anyway: Driver tries to escape police ... by jumping his car 100 feet, over a bluff and into Long Island Sound Miraculously, he survived ... just like Wile E. Coyote. Less miraculously, he was (surprise, surprise) arrested. Does anyone think alcohol was involved?
Wow. I have dabbled with Scrivener, but this is the first time I've seen it used so comprehensively. Impressive. I'm inspired to go back and work again on my fantasy book that I have been working on there.
Not necessarily. I don't know which or whose falafel you tried, Graham, but I've made falafel fresh from scratch, and it was always delicious. I agree that if balls of falafel spend all day under a heat lamp, they'll be dry and unappetizing. But if you make them fresh -- little patties of chickpeas, plus herbs and spices, and deep-fried -- and then stuff them in a warm pita pocket, along with pickles and fine-chopped vegetables, and slather the pita pocket with a nice sauce (even a little mayonnaise, mixed with fresh-squeezed lemon juice) ... hmm-mm-mm ... well, if you do that, then falafel is no more awful than a fresh-made hot dog, or a fresh hamburger, or any other fresh, hot sandwich. (In fact, fresh-made falafel is probably healthier, seeing as it's the vegetarian option. But you do you). And now I feel like making some falafel. Yum!
I think the slogan for the customers of my fictional universe will be something like: "Poor sods won't know what they've bought into."
Vinegar is a natural diuretic. (I ate out a few days ago and the cuisine I ate used a LOT of it. Found out about the effects after, of course. Lol.)
Just realized I have become mean old Mr. McGregor. I used to think backyard rabbits were cute, now that we have begun gardening in semi-earnest I find myself hating them. Just looked out the window and saw one pleasantly stretched out in the yard enjoying the approaching evening, and I went out and chased him away lest he get too comfortable in "my" patch.
Hmm -- have you tried capturing and domesticating him, Graham? I apologise if that sounds thick, I've no idea how easy/difficult that would be, or whether you'd even want a pet rabbit. I'm just thinking that, although you chased him away, the rabbit might be back with his friends.
Mumblemumblemumble wood nail hard mumblemumblemumble. Double entendre, me? Never! *polishes his halo* More seriously, I'm kind of impressed that the authorities (i.e. the ship's captain/officers etc.) didn't take action before the ship nearly fell apart. ======================= Anyway, earlier tonight I had an idea for a fantasy/history novel. It would be all about a young brigand who carries on operations in the mountains around Cordoba. In time, he becomes a very old, established, and respectable head of an organisation of brigands, desperadoes, ne'er-do-wells, and so on. And I have title a that would sell a million copies -- I'd call it Old Man Reaver. But I'm sure The Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization would probably sue. Dratted lawyers, won't leave creative people well enough alone to earn an honest day's pay! Grumble.
