Some vicious sun storm has parked itself over Anhedonia and conditions have become totally unacceptable.  Triple-digit temperatures in MAY, dear reader.  This is horseshit, even for this fetid desert.  If things don’t change soon, I may have to seek cooler accommodations elsewhere.

N.P.: “Veriura” – Ruoska

This weekend traditionally marks the change over in desk whiskey from winter whiskey to summer whiskey.  This year, that means saying goodbye to the Jack Tennessee Fire that got me through another wimpy winter, and Hellooooooo Nurse to good Old #7 Jack Daniels Goddammit Whiskey.  Also purchased were several gallons of the requisite Mexican Pepsi to couple with the whiskey.  Yes, of course, I could spend this squalid summer sipping my whiskey neat, like some kind of gentleman, but I’ve got nothing to prove, so it’s Jack and Mexican Pepsi from now ’til Halloween.

N.P.: “Shake Your Blood (feat. Lemmy Kilmister)” – Probot

Wearing masks in public is giving everybody two or three extra points, which points will immediately dissipate upon removal of the mask.  Like, if you’re a solid 3, throw a mask over half of that ugly mug and bam…you’re a 5 or 6.  This is, of course, because you are withholding information from people looking at you, and the human mind tends to fill in any blanks it finds, and so in the absence of accurate information, people will fill in these blanks with information most suitable to them.  So left to idealize half of someone’s appearance, people do, which creates an impossible standard for people to subsequently meet in reality.  Once bars and restaurants again become popular mating grounds, and people walk in wearing masks only to take them off to eat or drink, some variation of the phrase, “Ooof…holy shit…put the mask back on,” will be all-too-commonly whispered amongst tablemates about newly arrived neighbors.

The language wars continue.  Just a quick update about things I saw today:
“Incel Culture” – No.  There is no such thing.  It’s the inability to get laid, and the ineptitude of virgins is not my concern.  Nor is it yours.  It’s up to them…just figure it out like the rest of us did.  What you’ve been doing clearly hasn’t worked.  So change.  But don’t bother me about it.
“Toxic Masculinity” – This is a pathetically masked and wrong-headed attempt to reframe general assholishness as either a specifically masculine quality or an inevitable quality of being masculine.  Which is patently bullshit. This is completely fallacious rhetoric and shouldn’t be used…it would be extremely easy to weaponize it in an equally fallacious argument against certain aspects of femininity.  But we would never do such a thing.  But knock it off.
“Microaggressions” – Just go fuck yourself.
Also, I am tempted to start shooting at the next person that uses the term “self-care” in my presence.
Sorry, dear reader…I’ve been pretty edgy lately.  As far as I can tell, it can’t be helped.  Maybe tomorrow will be better.  For what it’s worth, it’s been pretty good for the writing today.

N.P.: “Step Up (I’m On It)” – Maylene and the Sons of Disaster

Time does truly strange things when every day is exactly the same.  I think I got a lot done today…I’m just not sure if it’s today or yesterday that I’m thinking about.  Who knows.  Who cares.
The book’s about to kick into overdrive…I can feel it.  Probably similar to the way a pregnant woman knows it’s time.  I think this thing is like a gigantic, super complicated puzzle that looks like a chaotic mess right up until the moment the last piece is solved, and then, suddenly, the whole thing makes total sense.  At least that’s what I’m hoping.

N.P.: “So What” – Metallica

Weird day.  Unsure what exactly made it so.  Got out on the freeway and actually had to hit the brakes once or twice.  Too many people are on the roads again.
Started a (yet another) potentially cool project today.  Got the first few pages down, plus the overall structure of the thing.  I was cracking up while I was writing it…that’s always a good sign.  Gonna get back to it…see if I can make some more progress before collapse.

N.P.: “The Remedy (3 Kord Scissor King) – Puscifer

‘Twas a good day, dear reader.  Got lots done, lots of new ideas. There was thunder, lightning, and a pretty decent soaking from the sky.  All in all, feeling more energetic and optimistic, which is good: there’s a lot on the schedule tomorrow.
Stay well.

N.P.: “In the House – In a Heartbeat – 28 Days Later” – Extize

My good friend The Rain stopped by briefly this morning, but then couldn’t remember if he’d locked his front door or not, so he had to go back and check.  He’s promised to swing by again sometime tonight and maybe stick around for lunch tomorrow before he leaves for 6 months for business in the east.
I’m feeling very much in the doldrums lately, dear reader, and I’m not entirely sure why.  I’m sure it’s a combination of about a dozen things, but I don’t like it.  It feels as if all I can do is wake up each morning and see if the winds of inspiration have started blowing again.  I’m sure it won’t be long.  But in the meantime, I don’t like it.

N.P.: “No Rain” – Drab Majesty

Got a bit of writing done today.  The day’s not over, but my energy level is just absurdly low.  I was sort of tinkering with a song for a while, but again, just not a lot of energy behind it.  Which, if that’s the case, it’s better just not to try.  How’s that for a boring, uninspirational update?
My friend The Rain is supposed to get into town tonight.  That will help.

N.P.: “Sugaan Essena” – The HU

There are oh so many reasons I haven’t gone (and continue not to go into) journalism.  American journalism has not really existed for decades now…the corrupt, vapid husk of what it used to be has corroded into a miasma of ignorance, hopelessly partisan, agenda-driven drivel that any legitimate freethinking writer would be disgusted by and embarrassed to be in any way associated with it.  I could (and eventually will) simply Go Off on how shitty and corrupt American journalism has become, but tonight I just have time to bitch about one thing.
The Associated Press has decided to no longer use the term “mistress,” mystifyingly, arbitrarily, and unilaterally declaring it “archaic and sexist.”
“We now say not to use the archaic and sexist term ‘mistress’ for a woman in a long-term sexual relationship with, and financially supported by, a man who is married to someone else.  Instead, use an alternative like companion or lover on first reference.”
Why don’t we just go back to good old “whore.”  But that usually isn’t too long-term.  Maybe “side-piece”?  Homewrecker?  Concubine?  Trollop?  Harem participant?  Side squeeze?  Holster for his love gun?  Alternative sexual receptacle?
Of course, we kid.  But at least my alternatives communicate the idea.  The AP’s suggested alternatives are, like all politically correct attempts to manipulate the language, moronic and ineffective.  What did they suggest?  “Companion”?  A companion could be a friend.  A companion could be a pet dog.  “Companion” is in no way an accurate replacement for ‘mistress.”  And “lover”?  Any one-night stand is a lover, but not a mistress.  Single-use prostitutes are lovers, but not mistresses.
Any of the terms I suggested are clearly disrespectful pejoratives.  By “mistress” is the feminine form of “master.”  The primary definition of “mistress” is “a woman in a position of authority or control.”  Which is quite a respectful term.  And appropriate, if you exert even a modicum of thought.
The Associated Press would do well to attempt to totally overhaul itself so that it might eventually return to some semblance of the legitimate journalistic source it once was.  But as long as their only concern is dicking around with the English language, they will remain just another easily dismissed/ignored organ of the politically correct best avoided by pursuers of actual truth.

N.P.: “Modern Love” – David Bowie