"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)
Clinton, South Carolina, Wednesday, May 16, 2018, 10:22 a.m. Sameness has become weird, which is unsustainable because if the weird becomes the same, it will cease to be the weird. One would think there would be limits. To this point, one would be wrong. Life reminds me of a Tom T. Hall song called “Everything …
Continue reading ‘I’m Mad as Hell and … So Is Everybody Else’
Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, July 13, 2017, 10:27 a.m. When I was a boy, my grandmother used to say, when a thunderstorm approached, that it was about to “come up a cloud.” My lawn needs mowing. I’m going to do so if it doesn’t come up a cloud. I’m also going to write fiction today …
I’m not a doctor. Nor am I scientist. I do not reject science, as, inexplicably, many do, and I do not oppose medicine, particularly not the need for insurance coverage. One of my recurring frustrations is how experts have fallen into disfavor. It seems to me that one would respect the view of climatologists …
Nightrider's Lament 