Zombie Memories

Morning Sun, Edward Hopper

I’ve mentioned my 50th high school class reunion coming up, haven’t I? I dunno if it already happened or what.

 An acquaintance on Facebook has been making caricatures and other memorial graphics for classmates using AI. He’s been posting them in his feed which, apparently, a lot of our class follow. Apart from my big-ass issues with AI generated art, which is a rant for another day, this is really thoughtful of Jim. He seems like a truly nice, genuine, gregarious guy. Putting aside my own experiences and feelings, I can imagine that, for him and, possibly, a lot of other people with whom we went to school, this final reunion’s a big fucking deal.

Automat, Edward Hopper

I don’t feel like I’m a part of my graduating class. The only friend I have from way back then is in a different year. The few friends who are actually from my class, I met on Facebook decades after graduation. Seeing Jim’s Facebook feed and getting the occasional reunion email update feels a little voyeuristic – like I’m reading a stranger’s mail.

I've also been experiencing an odd resurgence of rage over the mean girls who tormented me throughout high school. Please don’t say ‘Oh get over yourself — that was 50+ years ago.’ Goddammit, I KNOW THAT. Do you honestly think I want to be carrying around anger and sadness over what some gang of absolute low watt twinkies said and did 50 years ago? Do I think about those girls (old grandmothers now) daily? Weekly? Once a year on Rosh Hashanah or Bodhi Day? Ahhhh, no. The reunion served as a trigger to unearth these zombie emotions which I obvs need to put to a final death. How do you kill zombies? Cut off their heads?

Early Sunday Morning, Edward Hopper

I’ve NOT been thrilled AT ALL to have memories of my high school years and these total twatzillas back in my head. Life at home — with my ultra violent, narcissistic brother, wild older sister, and my uncaring mother, freshly diagnosed with NF2 — was hard enough. I desperately needed and wanted school to be a respite, a haven from home. The mean girls, with their stalking, bullying, prank phone calls, and smear campaigns ensured that this wouldn’t be. As did a half dozen teachers. A few male teachers actually made humiliating comments about the size of my ta tas in front of other students. Once, in front of the entire orchestra class. This was a small town in the early/mid ‘70s — imagine how that would go over today. Visualize lead balloons and law suits.

Shit was so bad back then, I felt so alone, that I joined a Methodist church group, naively believing church kids would be warm, kind, and welcoming. Ya know, I’d find friends there. Ah…NO. These kids were every bit as judgmental as the mean girls and the creepy, hypercritical teachers. Kind and welcoming? Only in a plastic covered couch kind of a way.  

Giorgio de Chirico

One girl, who went on to become a Methodist minister (!!!) was relaxed and smooth with everyone else. With me, she instantly became formally polite and pointedly distant — like I was a plague carrier, a demonic being OR just too, too low class to be within her presence. It was weird. Oddly enough, decades later, she sent me a Facebook friend request. It quickly became clear that she’d either forgotten who I was or sent it by accident. How do I know? In response to a direct, friendly, non-intrusive question, she again pulled this same frozen, polite but get-the-fuck-away-from-me tone (which she doesn’t take with anyone else). Weird. Last time I checked, I do NOT have the plague. NF2 yes. Plague, no. Also? Not a demon.

Ya know, I know I was an awkward kid and maybe a little too fluorescent for my classmates. Sadly, I didn’t have the confidence or self-esteem to laugh at the mean girls. I was vulnerable — an easy target. I was a solid four years away from being able to confidently deliver killer Jasmine Crockett style slams. “Bleach blonde, bad-built, butch body?” Man, that would’ve slayed! Oh, to time travel and deliver flaming kill shots. 

Point of the story — obvs I’m the opposite of nostalgic about those years. I’m surprised that, 50 years later, I’ve been having these big feelings about a reunion I’m not going to.

Aside from the resurrected rage, I’m envious of people who have happy memories of childhood hometowns. My family moved so much (due to Daddy’s academic pursuits and chasing a tenure track teaching gig) that I can’t lay claim to a childhood hometown. 

Nighthawks, Edward Hopper

My favorite place was Townsend, Massachusetts. We lived there for a year when Daddy taught at Fitchburg State College. My fantasy is that we stayed there. I graduated high school, went on to UMass Amherst, then moved to Cambridge with my chums.

In real life, I DID move to Cambridge with pals. It was just later and via a much more circuitous route.

High school wasn’t nonstop hell BUT close enough. I’m happy that Jim’s experience was different and he's getting to see all of his old friends. It's good that not all of us have zombie memories.

Brain Blur

 My brain is fuzzy, my eyes hurt, and I don’t feel like thinking this morning. I blame the humidity – also brain tumors. They’re an awfully convenient scapegoat. Sometimes, often enough, they’re the perp, the devious malefactor, the ravening horde looking to steal my good health (what’s left of it anyhoo), creativity, and critical thinking abilities. Not today though. My most recent MRIs showed that my meningioma farm is fairly stable. So today is about the weather, being old, tired, cranky, maybe a little dehydrated, and being in need of more CAKE dammit!

So then, in lieu of deep thoughts, here are some cartoons. Yur welcome. ‘scuse me now, I’m gonna take a nap.

He spent day after day feeling uneasy and muddled, like someone who has mistakenly swallowed a thick swatch of cloud.
~ Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process.
~ Virginia Woolf

Tragic Girls Katie Mansfield 

Tom Gauld 

Danial Ryan 

*sigh* as do we all, you absolute moldy turnip. *sigh*

This Modern World Tom Tomorrow 

Wrong Hands John Atkinson 

This F*cking Guy

Looks like it’s been a very bad week so far for the elderly, ever decaying, pedophilic, orange shellacked, malignant narcissist, huh?

Pedo's soiled Depends are all in a wad because New York City booed the fuck out of him and it’s been broadcast worldwide. He looks like the loser fool he is and everyone’s laughing at him. 

There was also that interview with an actual journalist, Kristen Welker, who performed actual journalism instead of the usual fawning interview fellatio. Pedo did NOT like that!

The Kennedy Center has begun the process of removing references to Pedo from the building, email signatures, letterhead and all other documents. Friday, June 12th, is the court ordered final deadline. 

And he’s on the losing end of a bunch of other lawsuits. It's a rough, no fun week for LOSER boy!

What’s a loser fool who can’t stop humiliating himself on the world’s stage to do?  Why…puff himself up full of bullshit, bile, and Hollywood B-movie villain posturing, fire off a post on his sad little Twitter knock off, Truth Toilet, and take a nap in a Cabinet meeting. Of course!

Trump says Iran ‘took too long’ to negotiate and now will ‘pay the price’

The US president has restated claims that Iran’s military is a “complete and total mess” and like its navy and air force “doesn’t even exist anymore”.“They have been completely defeated. Iran is all talk and no action. The Bully of the Middle East is DEAD!!!” he said in a post on Truth Social.

“They’ve taken too long to negotiate a deal that would have been great for them, now they will have to pay the price!!!” he added, without elaborating. (source) 

WHAT a clown. Does 'Vanky replacement, Natalie Harp, know that Pedo needs a new binky and a diaper change? If not, someone ought to text her – she’s sleeping on her very important babysitting job.

If you want to understand how to fix a problem in the world, you have to ask who is profiting from the problem. Not who is suffering from it.
~ Dr. Amos Wilson 

A new poll by the European Council on Foreign Relations thinktank has come out and, boy howdy, we’re just not a popular lot right now. Absolutely no fucking surprise there.

European trust in the US has crashed to new lows. Europeans do not expect America under Donald Trump to protect them, and they recognise the need for more autonomous security (even funded by common debt). But they do think the relationship will likely improve after Trump and want to leave the door open to that possibility.
   ~~~
This shift comes after Trump threatened to annex Greenland; attacked Iran without a plan then demanded Europeans resolve the resulting problems; pressured Kyiv without delivering a Ukraine-Russia peace; dismissed US commitments to NATO and announced withdrawals of some US troops from Europe. (source) 

Go to the link and look at the charts. Of the countries noted, the US’s status as ally took the deepest dive in Estonia, the UK, and Denmark (of fucking course). Our ally status was already in the basement in Spain, Italy, France, Bulgaria, Switzerland, and Germany.

NObody likes Trump. I’m betting Putin and Kim Jong-un aren’t even taking his calls. Of course, if I looked like a rotting orange bundt cake wearing a Temu Farrah Fawcett wig, and spewed grandiose, delusional stream of consciousness imaginings, I suspect my pals might not take my calls either. 

Nah – they would. I'm good for a laugh here and there. Also, I'm cute as fuck. OH, yes I AM!

How NOT to Start Your Day

Honestly, you’d think I’d know by now that I shouldn’t open the news first thing in the AM. I should ease into my day – preferably with carrot cake and a nice piping hot cup of tea. Right? 

Maybe scroll through some cute cat pics. Enjoy a few videos of elephant families and then a few more. Maybe check into Facebook – which is mostly ads now but I still see occasional posts from friends. I scroll Threads for some fun tales – get some grins. Read a chapter of my new Murderbot book. THEN, only then, I might be ready to face the horrors of the what’s happening in the world.

Did I do that this morning? Fuck no. First thing I read was a front-page article in Al Jazeera about the sexual abuse, rape and torture of Palestinian prisoners in Israel. The report comes with a warning – This story contains descriptions of sexual assault that some readers may find disturbing. “Disturbing” is a profound understatement. I won’t quote any of the descriptions of the horrifying, brutal, dehumanizing, absolutely demonic abuses performed by the Israeli soldiers. They make the reports of the US military’s savage torture, rape, and murders of prisoners at Abu Ghraib seem almost tame. 

Eyad Baba

Allegations of the sexual abuse of Palestinians in Israeli prisons are not new – they date back decades. But launching its genocidal war on Gaza following the Hamas-led attack of October 2023, Israel appears to have increased the use of rape as a weapon of war, according to the Al Jazeera investigation and various reports by the UN and leading rights groups.
   ~~~
“Surviving sexual violence and torture in general, and rape is brutal,” Albanese (UN Special Rapporteur on the occupied Palestinian territories) said. “Imagine when it’s done on a large-scale systemically to a population. It means to destroy the people as such. (source) 

And piss drunk, brain fried, always posturing, mysogynistic, micro dicked, white supremacist, Christofascist Pete wants to further integrate our military with Israel’s. Mind you, it’s not just this deranged nazi clownfuck who’s promoting this. 

At a time when the American public is expressing unprecedented levels of distrust in the Israeli government, Congress just proposed tying the U.S. to the Israeli military more than ever before.

Buried in the House's version of the 2027 National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) released on Tuesday, is section 224, entitled “United States-Israel Defense Technology Cooperation Initiative.” The provision would arguably do more to intertwine the U.S. military with the Israeli military than the more than $200 billion (inflation adjusted) in military assistance Israel has received from the U.S. since its founding in 1948. (source) 

The House is set to vote on this horror show, this marriage to another ruthless genocidal power before the summer recess. When’s that? Saturday, June 27 through Sunday, July 12, 2026. Call your rep – demand they vote NO on the 2027 National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA). As a nation we need to be divorced from and no-fucking-contact with genocidal rapists. From within and without.

We have to purge the bastards in our own country and NOT hook up with nations who think *gee willikers* training my guard dog to rape prisoners is really, really fun! (yes, they did and are doing exactly this – read the article). 

I am constantly amazed by man's inhumanity to man.
~ Primo Levi 

Inhumanity, n. One of the signal and characteristic qualities of humanity. 
~ Ambrose Bierce 

Wild animals are less wild and more human than many humans of this world. 
~ Munia Khan

News and Memes

Supposedly there’s a ceasefire going on in the Middle East. Words used to have meaning – I miss that. I guess that’s just SO 20th century.

As of 12:30 GMT Israel launched attacks across Iran. There were explosions reported in Tehran, Tabriz, Karaj and Isfahan. These followed a wave of missiles that Iran fired towards northern Israel in retaliation for Israel repeatedly violating the ceasefire in Lebanon. Israel says they’re only indiscriminately bombing Lebanon because Hezbollah is there.

How soon before the reason for the bombings, the murders of innocents is “He keeps touching my sleeve!”, "She's breathing on me!”, "They looked at me funny!”, "He started it!”

Meanwhile,  The clearly decaying Clownfuck Pedophile in Chief is screeching on his little Twitter knockoff for Israel and Iran to just immediately stop “shooting.” Can you just hear Pedo stomping his foot, huffing and puffing? Ah, given those intensely swollen cankles (when’s the last time you saw him standing) I doubt he’s up to stomping his feet anymore.

Anyway, it's truly hilarious – like anyone's paying him serious attention anymore.

If you haven’t read yesterday’s Heather Cox Richardson’s post PLEASE DO.

Amongst other things, she talks about how Scott Pelley, a thirty-seven year CBS correspondent, fired last week from 60 Minutes, outed CBS news director and Trump asslicker (and Goebbels wannabe) Bari Weiss over her attempt to rewrite reality.

Hours before airing, he explained, after the story had been approved, Weiss sent an email to Pelley’s boss asking them to make the protesters look more violent and to say that before an officer shot her, Renee Good was driving toward him.

But she wasn’t. Pelley continued: “On the video, you see the officer standing slightly off the front of the car. And you clearly see Ms. Good’s wheels turned completely as far as they will go, away from the officer. But he shoots her in the head, kills her, and says something about her that I can’t repeat in polite company.

…”The video showed that the officer wasn’t standing in front of the car and she wasn’t driving toward him, but that’s what the president said about that, and that’s the way she wanted it described.” (source)

Weiss’ Wikipedia page claims she’s a journalist. I can think of more accurate terms. Just for starters – fabulist, prevaricator, mythomaniac, deceiver, fantasist, and liar.

You’ve surely read about how unpopular Vanky and her partner in crime, Jared, are in Albania? You know, their plans to pave paradise and build condos, malls, hotels – turn it into a playland for the überwealthy?

One of the biggest sources of controversy surrounds the project's potential impact on environmentally sensitive areas.

The planned developments overlap with the Karaburun-Sazan marine national park and the Vjosa-Narta protected wetlands, regions known for their rich biodiversity and importance to migratory bird populations. (source) 

Yeah, fuck the planet – there’s money to be made!

Ivanka, who is definitely as dim, greedheaded and every bit as much of a liar as her father, described Sazan Island as a "private island" she and Jared had “discovered,” despite it being sovereign Albanian territory. 

Environmental groups from Albania and elsewhere in Europe condemned the work, with one prominent local group charging that long-protected habitats are being "irreversibly destroyed."

Albania's state anti-corruption agency has confirmed it opened an investigation related to the project but has not disclosed details. (source) 

Protests are huge and charged. Also, the EU has weighed in on the matter now. 

Basically, anything with the Trump name, or just associated with that name, is suspect and as appealing as radioactive warthog fecal matter.

Perfect Murders

Eight Perfect Murders is a psychological thriller and mystery novel by Peter Swanson. The story follows Beacon Hill mystery bookstore owner and recent-ish widow Malcolm Kershaw. He’s a quiet guy – goes to work with his two employees every day, comes home, reads, has a beer, goes to bed, gets up, and does it all over again.

I want to like him.

Then, one extremely cold, snowy, February day, a young FBI agent stops in with questions. It seems there have been murders that might be echoing a blog post he wrote years ago titled, "Eight Perfect Murders.” In that debut post for the store’s website, he listed the top eight trickiest murder mystery/thrillers – the most unsolvable murders. 

These included: Agatha Christie’s A. B. C. Murders, Patricia Highsmith’s Strangers on a Train, Ira Levin’s Death Trap, A. A. Milne's Red House Mystery, Anthony Berkeley Cox's Malice Aforethought, James M. Cain's Double Indemnity, John D. Macdonald's The Drowner, and Donna Tartt's A Secret History.

There appears to be a copycat about – someone who’s using Mal’s blog list as a blueprint, a script, a project inspiration site (Instagram for killers). Except shit gets WAY deeper than that. You see, Mal is something I totally fucking despise. Mal is an unreliable narrator.

Was ist das, you ask?

An unreliable narrator can be defined as any narrator who misleads readers, either deliberately or unwittingly. Many are unreliable through circumstances, character flaws or psychological difficulties. In some cases, a narrator withholds key information from readers, or they may deliberately lie or misdirect. (source) 

Confession – once I fully twigged to this (about 45% of the way through the book), I ended up skipping to the end. Yes, despite Eight Perfect Murders being well written, engaging, having a couple likable characters, AND a cat. WHY did I do this? 

My fault (?) – I can’t and will NOT tolerate being lied to. 

There are myriad reasons why people lie.

They lie to cover their shame.

A friend told me they had sent their children to live, temporarily, with their ex (several states away) for a few months because they needed to take care of some general, unspecified issues. A partial truth at best. Child protective services had stepped in and made this choice for them.

People lie because they’re, perhaps, not fully aligned with reality. 

A person I knew and loved told me an elaborate, detailed story about how they lost their job at an eldercare nonprofit which they supposedly created – built from the ground up. The person was completely blindsided – absolutely stunned.

The more they talked the more they contradicted themself. There were SO many gaping holes in the story. They fully believed what they were telling me all while reality was standing there saying "nah babe...sorry, no way." This was an intelligent person but, in certain circumstances, objective reality was beyond their grasp.

People lie for profit and power. Fer instance – Pedo and his Party of fools, sycophants, planet and people rapers, greedheads, thieves, and micro-schwanzed morons, lie with every breath they take.

Some other reasons why people lie:

Sometimes it’s to shield or protect others. Would you lie about Abdullahi Mohamed or Vargas Arellano hiding from ICE in your attic? I sure as fuck would.

“White lies” are theoretically told to spare someone's feelings. Would I? //shrugs// Maybe. It depends. I think I’m more likely to tell the truth as gently as I’m able. This might be how I’ve gotten the rep for being honest – AKA direct, blunt, a stone asshole. //shrugs// Someone's gotta do it.

Lies of omission are committed in order to protect privacy and/or avoid conflict. Sometimes that’s good and necessary. Sometimes that’s chickenshit assholery.

Back to Eight Perfect Murders though – because of this lying shit and me, inevitably, being sparked off into the next dimension by it, I returned the book to the library early. Yes, I read the last chapter and I’m glad I did (no, I won’t give away the ending). Now, NOW I want to know how Mal, the lying little shit, got to that end. I wanna know if his two bookstore employees and the cat (ESPECIALLY the cat) are okay. And what about the FBI agent who seemed like a nice, less buttoned up Agent Scully type. Maybe. 

I might have to get back on the waiting list and take the book out again even though I’m still RILLY pissed off about this lying ass narrator shit.

And now I have Annie Lennox in my head singing Would I Lie to You. THIS is a good thing! 

Gone Too Soon

As you’ve probably already heard, Rupert Giles, Buffy’s Watcher, her mentor, her father figure, has died. Okay, it was the amazing actor Anthony Head who played Giles who died. He was only 72 – just a handful of years older than yurs truly.

Jesus Vampire Christ, I’m bummed.

Giles had some of the best lines on Buffy. Granted, that’s the writers but his desiccated, wry, yet still, somehow, warm delivery was absofucking brilliant. Of all the actors on the show, Giles was the most fully realized – he was seamless. Spike was a close second.

Below are some of his witty, pithy lines – all delivered with that wonderful, tone. If you’re unfamiliar with Buffy the Vampire Slayer (What? Have you been living under a rock?) or weren’t a fan (? HOW can this be? Next you’ll be telling me you don’t like ice cream!!!) this’ll be a bit inside baseball-ish. You can however find the show on something called Hulu – go binge.

~~~

Buffy: Does it ever get easy? [she asks after killing a newly risen vampire]

Giles: You mean life?

Buffy: Yeah. Does it get easy?

Giles: What do you want me to say?

Buffy: Lie to me.

Giles: Yes, it’s terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or black hats, and, uh, we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after.

Buffy: Liar.

~~~

Giles: Don’t taunt the fear demon.

Xander: Why? Can it hurt me?

Giles: No, it’s just…tacky.

~~~

I just think it’s rather odd that a nation that prides itself on its virility should feel compelled to strap on forty pounds of protective gear just in order to play rugby.

~~~

I watched Passions (a Twin Peaks by way of All My Children daytime soap) with Spike. Let us never speak of it.

~~~

You have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone.

~~~

Forgiveness is an act of compassion, Buffy. It’s not done because people deserve it, but because they need it.

~~~

Giles on playing D&D: I used to be a highly respected watcher, now I’m a wounded dwarf with the mystical strength of a doily.

~~~

Books smell. Musty and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer, it has no texture, no context. It’s there and then it’s gone. If it’s to last, then the getting of knowledge should be tangible, it should be...smelly.

~~~

When Buffy was trying out for the cheerleading squad:
You have a sacred birthright, Buffy. You were chosen to destroy vampires, not to ... wave pompoms at people. And as the Watcher I forbid it.

~~~

We listened to aggressively cheerful music sung by people chosen for their ability to dance.

~~~

Xander: Am I right, Giles?

Giles: Almost certainly not, but to be fair, I wasn’t listening.

~~~

Xander: Here's your coffee. Brewed from the finest Colombian lighter fluid.

Giles: Thank you. [takes a sip]

Giles: Horrible. [takes another sip]

Xander: Aren't you supposed to be drinking tea, anyway?

Giles: Tea is soothing. I wish to be tense.

Xander: Okay, but you're destroying a perfectly good cultural stereotype here.

~~~

On driving an automatic: I loathe just sitting here, not contributing.

~~~

Buffy: We don’t say ‘Indian’.

Giles: Oh, oh, right! Yes, yes. Um, always behind on the terms. Still trying not to refer to you lot as ‘bloody colonials’.

~~~

But that's the thrill of living on the Hellmouth! There's a veritable cornucopia of fiends and devils and ghouls to engage. (pause) Pardon me for finding the glass half full.

~~~

Alright, I'll just jump in my time machine, go back to the twelfth century and ask the vampires to postpone their ancient prophecy for a few days while you take in dinner and a show. (To Buffy who wanted to go out on a date instead of slay vampires) 

~~~

Testosterone is a great equalizer, it turns all men into morons.

~~~

James Marsters (Spike):

“There’s a hole in the World. Anthony Head has passed on from us. He was an unflaggingly kind and steady presence on the set of Buffy, and the best actor in the cast. He was the best of us. I was lucky to have known, and learned from him. He left the world a better place for his presence. Thank you Tony for all you gave.” (source) 

Behind Blue Eyes – Anthony Stewart Head 

Fatigued?

I’m tired. No, that’s not quite it. I’m weary. Maybe flat out exhausted best describes it? It’s the nonstop evil from this administration and the entire soulless, spineless, ethically putrefied, greedheaded, morally bankrupt Republican Party. Add in the complacent and, often enough, confederate media. Then there’s all the absolute, mind-bendingly astounding stupidity. 

This clown orgy of diarrhea beset half sentient turnips couldn’t manage the job of governing even with a complete set of the best books on political history, access to the sharpest advisors, 100 years of apprenticeship with Abe Lincoln, JFK and Obama, and three fast espressos from Sant' Eustachio Caffè in Rome.

Watching Republicans in control of all three branches of our degenerate, corrupted government is like watching drunk frat boys, after a massive kegger, driving a school bus full of sweet kindergartners through the Rockies. Roads are thin, guardrails are weak, the drop-off is lethally steep, and the frat rats are blotto. Buy your tiny caskets now before the rush!

Maybe it’s time to take a few days off from the news. Ya know, read murder mysteries and watch horror movies. Something comparatively calming and restorative.

Searching my heart for its true sorrow,
This is the thing I find to be: 
That I am weary of words and people, 
Sick of the city, wanting the sea.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay, Second April

The bags under your eyes? That’s the luggage you took, on a trip straight to hell that you didn’t even book.
~ Lokesh Tuli, Notes From Exile: The “Manual for the Broken”

...because I want to see the last one fall. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.
~ O. Henry, The Last Leaf

Hope was a thing you lost when simply trying to imagine better days became so exhausting, overwhelming, and depressing a task, that one opted for despair out of sheer weariness. Giving up brought a kind of peace. 
~ Sunyi Dean, The Book Eaters