#MeToo is cowardice

I know I’ll probably get a lot of flack for this but so what? Posting “Me Too” on Twitter or FB, if you haven’t reported and at least attempted to charge the person who assaulted you, is nothing more than cowardice. The reasons Harvey Weinstein was able to do what he did with impunity for so long are many. Yes, Hollywood turned a blind eye because they wanted his favor. Yes, He was a rich and powerful man who could buy himself out of trouble. But among the other reasons he was able to do what he did is because so many of his victims refused to say anything or do anything about it. Like it or not, if you have been assaulted, raped, molested, etc and you have not reported it, have not tried to make your assaulter accountable then you are an accessory after the fact. You are, whether you like it or not, helping them to cover-up their crimes and guaranteeing that they will victimise others.

I am not without sympathy for those who have been victimised. I understand that you may feel or have felt shame, embarrassment, and guilt, and that dealing with what happened to you is painful. I understand that you may just want to put it behind you and pretend it never happened. I get that the idea of reporting, testifying, and making your trauma public may well terrify or sicken you. If however, you allow those feelings to stop you from doing what is necessary to take these scum bags off the streets, then whether you like it or not you are part of the problem. Yes, it sucks. Yes, in a perfect world it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Yes, it will probably be one of the most painful things you have ever done. But the truth has not changed since man was born on this world. “All that is required for evil to triumph, is that good men do nothing”.

And like it or not, posting #MeToo, is doing nothing.

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Seven Months later

It’s been seven months since I posted to this blog, seven months since I have worked on any of my WIP’s. A lot has happened in that time. And me? I’ve worked, watched TV, watched movies, and….. that’s about it. So why, after this long delay am I finally thrusting my thoughts upon the internet unbidden once again? Because I’m tired of being a lazy fuck? Because I believe that mine is the one singular voice in the wilderness that can lead the world to the glorious future? Because I’m an attention whore desperate to be heard? Nah.

For me, writing goes in cycles. I’ll spend a few months feverishly writing during every available free minute, and then I’ll go months where I’d rather read or watch what others have created. I’ve been posting a lot on Facebook recently and opened a twitter account, so apparently I’m ramping back up into an active phase. Good. I’ve got several books that need to be finished so I can publish them, and the world is a very interesting (In the ancient Chinese proverb definition of interesting) place right now. Also, I stumbled onto a blog I started over ten years ago, not only is it still up, but I still have the email address I used to set it up. And reading through it, it’s not bad. Many of my views have changed in the intervening years, as have my tastes, but overall I think the content is fairly decent. Hell, I might even resurrect it. So for the two or three people that read this blog when I was publishing regularly, and the even fewer who will read this, would like a glimpse of who I was a decade ago? Let me know in the comments.

He is The Iron Fist.

Slow? So is Bar-b-que. A casual ember from the tip of a cigarette flicked carelessly from a car window burns slowly too; until a wildfire is ignited. Watching the first six episodes of “Iron Fist” was like watching the Space Shuttle lift off from Cape Canaveral. It was a penny a day doubled. It was like the The Iron Fist himself. The slower he looks like he’s moving, the farther ahead of you he is.

These six episodes got a literal goose egg on the tomater site? These six episodes have been called boring?

Yes. Iron Fist starts out on a slow burn, except for the action. Within moments of the cold open, we get a glorious hint of just who exactly Danny Rand is. While multiple mooks attempt to actively hurt The Iron Fist, he effortlessly glides around them, protecting them as actively as himself.

What doesn’t come fast, or easy, are the answers. Where has Danny been, why is he back now, and what has he become? This information is teased out, given out in drips and drabs as the story unfolds.

The mythology, the history,and  backstory play out like a bass beat. Its always there and always moving forward. It’s a subtle yet driving rhythm that seems to keep upping the stakes. Imagine an Ion engine that spat out narrativium.

The world building alone would be enough reason to watch “Iron Fist”. Layering a fast paced and expansive story on top of it is simply gaudy. “Iron Fist” moves fast. Time is taken to establish the stakes, and the players, but when they move they move.

So is “Iron Fist” fast or is it slow? Yes. The iron fist moves exactly as fast as it needs to.

 

The Culture War has come for you.

Most folks on the right side of the spectrum, and I would assume most folks on the left as well, have no interest in fighting a culture war. All most folks really want is to live their lives, raise their families, and do the best at both that they can. But as many folks on the right, or even the moderate left have begun to discover recently, it doesn’t matter how much you want peace, when the war comes to you. This has never been an issue for me personally because I’m an asshole. I love arguing, I eat insults like candy, and I feed on hatred.

It is however news for many who consider themselves centrists regardless of which direction they lean. A few recent posts have made it clear to me that in the wake of Trump’s election victory, even those I would consider soft right, hell even many who considered themselves center left are finally beginning to understand this. First there were a couple of recent posts by Brad Torgersen. One on his blog, and one on his Facebook. Now to understand the significance of this you need to understand that Brad was once called “The baby blue conservative” member of the sad puppies by Sarah Hoyt. Though I don’t know the man personally every single public statement I have ever seen him make has been marked by his humility, empathy, and willingness to see things from someone else’s perspective. None of which I may add are qualities I possess in more than minuscule amounts.

Then as I sat down tonight to decide what my topic would be, I saw this post in my WP reader tab. Fuck the Science Fiction Community by Cirsova. Now I admit, I know nothing about Cirsova the person. I hear Cirsova the magazine is doing some really great work, but I haven’t gotten around to actually buying any issues yet. Hell I don’t even know if Cirsova is male or female. I do know that whoever it is, they now know what Brad has so recently learned. It doesn’t matter whether or not you want the war when the war comes for you.

You see unlike Milo, these weren’t folks going out and actually courting controversy in order to make a point. Unlike me, they aren’t assholes from a long line of assholes. These are just folks trying to go about their day, doing what they do, creating their art, and trying to live the best life they can. None of that matters though, when the war comes for you.

 

 

 

Today’s Progress. – 680 words

Current project total – 45,230 words.

Momma said there’d be days like this.

Some days you just aren’t feeling it. It doesn’t matter what “it” is. Whether its work, or play doesn’t really matter much, except that if its work you’re more likely to do it anyway cause it has to get done. Maybe you’re tired, maybe you’re in a bad mood, maybe you had a fight with someone you loved or maybe you just want to veg out. We all have days like that. Today I had one. Couldn’t concentrate at work, wasn’t feeling writing. I really just want to lie back, watch some T.V. and veg for the rest of the night. So that’s what I’m gonna do.

 

Today’s word count – 337

Current project total – 44,550

Reflecting on Milo.

Milo Yiannopoulos is probably one of the most polarizing figures in media/politics today. As a gay, jewish, somewhat conservative, (at least on the issue of free speech) writer who was an early supporter of Gamergate (or at the very least one of the few people doing honest reporting on it) he kinda defies categorization. To those on the left he’s a traitor who wandered off the plantation and sided with the evil right, even going so far as to honestly report on the alt-right, (or alt-west, or new right or whatever the hell else this burgeoning movement is being called today) At the same time to many on the right, especially the mainstream conservative right, hes at best an interloper trying to make his bones off their backs, at worst a Trojan horse leading the future of the right into sodomy, liberalism and sin.

 

My own take on him has always been that he’s entertaining when he pisses off the right (which is of course to say the left’s) people.That he is dead on in his defense of free speech. That his tactic of using wildly provocative and offensive speech is both brilliant and executed nearly flawlessly, and that though we may not agree on many things he is certainly worth supporting in so far as my interests and his overlap.

Recently Milo was the victim of a coordinated media hatchet job that used deceptively edited video and audio to make it appear that he said something he didn’t. Make no mistake, this was not an accident, it was not a coincidence,  it was not done in good faith, there was no honesty in the attack, and it was absolutely and intentionally done with malice aforethought. The truly sick, the truly perverse thing though, is that it was done by the same media that as recently as a couple years ago had applauded attempts to make pedophiles look sympathetic. Worse, the article in question was in fact defended by the flagship of the mainstream conservative right The National Review. Yet the same media that has defended Roman Polansky, Woody Allen, and Lena Dunham, intentionally jumped on bullshit in an attempt to attack Milo, and it came from both the left and the right.

 

Don’t be manipulated. Read the man’s own statement. Go download and watch the Drunken Peasants podcast episode 193 for yourself.

 

 

Men make plans and the gods laugh.

I haven’t posted for a while. That’s mainly because I’ve spent most of that time praying to the porcelain god.Was it food, the flu, or a gypsy curse? Damned if I know. Hell maybe my girl has been poisoning me. But whatever it was, it seems to have run it’s course. In the meantime I have no idea whats been going on. I was trying to create a habit of writing (as opposed to posting) every night, but its hard to write when your head is buried in a toilet trying to feed the sewage trolls like you’re a momma bird.

Tonight however, I felt vaguely human. So I sat down and wrote. Only 1500 words or so but its something. If I were more coherent I’m sure I could tie this into politics and turn this post into a rant but I kinda need to hurl again. But I aten’t dead.

Know that you are mortal.

It is said that when Julius Ceaser would lead triumphal parades throughout the streets of Rome a slave would stand behind him on his chariot, whispering “Know that you are mortal”. Is it true? Damned if I know. So why am I bringing it up? Because we are also mortal and we need to learn to forgive ourselves when we fall below our own expectations. Last night I published the single shortest post I ever have to this blog. The reason why is explained in the post itself. I also wrote just slightly over thirty word last night. In point of fact I wrote exactly one, single solitary sentence.

The thing is, I’m a motal. I got drunk. So drunk I could barely see straight. But I still wrote something, even if It was only one sentence. I still published a post even if it was the shortest post I have ever published. I did this because I am trying to develop a habit, and the only way I know of to establish a habit is to make yourself do it every day until the day comes when you just do. I’m not there yet. Hell I aint even close. I’m just closer than I was yesterday, and even closer than I was the day before.

One day, I wont even have to think about whether or not to write when I get home from work. I’ll just do it, because it will be a habit. So even though I only added one single solitary sentence yesterday, its O.K. I added eleven hundred words today. I’ll add more tomorrow. I’ll more the day after. I keep adding them until I have a book. Then I’ll keep adding them until I have two. One day, I’ll have a career as a writer, one day I’ll pay my bills by sitting in a room alone a lying to the world. One day my only work will be writing. Unless I drink myself to death before that.