asakiyume: (feathers on the line)
[personal profile] asakiyume
Cumbia
Sometimes I have perfectly wonderful dreams--this morning, for example. I dreamed I was invited onto the dance floor to dance cumbia. I've had exactly one cumbia lesson in my life--not even a whole lesson; it was tacked onto a salsa lesson. But in the dream, I put aside all timidity, joined my partner, and it was perfect. We were so in sync; we improvised--I can catch the feeling just writing these words. This had the same joy as dreams of flying: incredible, freeing movement.

Krucial
The cashier was a young guy with fluffy hair pulled back in a pony tail. His name tag said "Krucial."
"That's an awesome name," I said.
"My mom gave it to me. It was on a wrapper," he said. [Maybe related to this: Krucial Rapid Response]
"That's great," I said. "You're crucial for your mom!"
"Awww, thank you!" he said, and and we high-fived.

Snowy Owl
A snowy owl has been hanging out near where I live. All the birders in the area are going there and taking pictures of it, and some of these have filtered into my social media, and they're magnificent, like this one, by someone named Dale Woods:
Snowy owl in a snowy field of corn stubble

Sturgeon
Elsewhere on social media someone recommended the story "The Man Who Lost the Sea" (1959), by Theodore Sturgeon. I've never actually read anything by him, and the person linked to a 2009 reprint in Strange Horizons, so I gave it a read. The poster said it involved a surprising twist. Well not really: I understood the situation halfway through. But I liked the story all the same: the writing was lovely, and I wanted to see how the main character would realize the truth. This, very near the end, struck me especially:
For no farmer who fingers the soil with love and knowledge, no poet who sings of it, artist, contractor, engineer, even child bursting into tears at the inexpressible beauty of a field of daffodils—none of these is as intimate with Earth as those who live on, live with, breathe and drift in its seas.


If you want to read it, here's the link: "The Man Who Lost the Sea."
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[personal profile] michaelboy


There was a place to where you led me (or at least I imagined it was so), that all clouds were turned with the dark-side up and the rest of the sky was rather like a castaway citrus - bobbing around the island in its own azure sea. Here the air was scented better than any dryer-sheet could ever imagine and the incredible wind in its whimsy; swept and tousled your hair (so bold as to even tatter your sundress - yet not in any forlorn fashion).
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[personal profile] mallorys_camera
Slipped off into The Zone for many hours last night while hammering away at a climactic scene near the end of Part I in the Work In Progress.

The Zone is a kind of oneness with the act of creation that can best be likened to a benign psychotic episode. You climb so far inside what you're creating that all your critical faculties disappear. Your brain is tracking imaginary events the same way it tracks real (ha, ha, ha!) events! It's wild. It's fun!

But you have no idea whether what you're writing is good or bad.

And it's a kind of mania, so it's physically unhealthy. When you fly that near the sun, your wings can get burned. Last night, for example, I didn't fall asleep till 1 a.m., but I still got up at 6—it's almost impossible for me to sleep in—so I'm feeling quite brain dead right now.

And I still haven't yet dared sneak a peek at what I wrote last night: Neal's rescue of Grazia just before she's about to be waterboarded baptized by spooky apocalypse cult. What if it's terrible, overly melodramatic drivel? It very easily could be.

###

Plus, we're heading into the fifth consecutive day of grey, impenetrable sky and blank white snow. A grey and white world is hard on the eyes. No doubt, that's compounding my addled, sleep-deprived mind set. Right now in this present moment, there's barely anything that's happened to me in my everyday-a-little-bit-longer life that I don't regret in some way. I line my pillows with regret!

My financial situation is in flux. Schlock isn't giving me the hours I want, and the current Remuneration client stopped communicating with me after making the current Remunerative assignment, leading me to wonder whether this isn't some kind of augury of how they're gonna react when I present my invoice. Shitty behavior! Do I ignore it & keep on working, figuring: Of course, they'll pay me! Or do I cut bait now and keep the retainer?

The Patrizia-torium is an utter mess.

And I'm living in a geographic location I dislike, where I have no friends to commune with or even activity partners to hang out with casually. I have plenty of friends, of course, with whom I communicate through phone calls, texts, & email & at some point during each and every one of those phone calls, texts, & emails, both parties invariably lament: I wish we lived closer...

But the only reason I'm not dying of loneliness is that I'm pathologically self-involved, and thus can survive for looooong periods of time entertaining myself.

Maybe that's all resilience really is: a pathological level of self-involvement.

###

I miss Brian.

The fact that he was so supremely self-confident in his choices, and that one of his choices was to love me, made him a grounding force.

Without him, I feel neither grounded nor lovable.
asakiyume: (highwayman)
[personal profile] asakiyume
It's extremely excellent to come across a short story completely at random, from someone I don't know at all, and then fall in love with it. (I love reading stories from people I know, too, of course! But in those cases, I already know I'm likely to love the story, whereas when it's by someone I don't know, it's an unexpected surprise.)

"Do You Love the Color of the Sky?" by Rachel Rosen was just such a story. In it, the curator of a museum that collects art and artifacts from the multiverse's doomed timelines (and who has a pet dodo from a timeline where dodos weren't hunted to extinction) is confronted by a thief from one of those doomed timelines who wants to take back what's either a plundered item or a rescued item, depending on what side of museum discourse you fall on. The multiverse is a great place for museum discourse, it turns out!

But beyond that, the story's just got a great narrative voice and some killer lines, such as...
Hadn't this always been the pattern of civilization? Tea and bullets were undeniably intertwined.

and
"But your world is dying."
I hadn't expected her smile. The bullet had been gentler.
"Every world dies," the thief said. "Even yours."

Here's how the thief is described on first appearance:
You can sometimes tell where [a multiverse traveler is] from at a glance. A gleaming bull’s horn on a chain around the throat, or a shangrak tattoo. A Hapsburg jaw or a colony of melanomas, if it’s one of the worse timelines. Not this woman. She had burst from the fire fully formed and innocent of all history.

And the various artifacts themselves, and the possibilities (or tragedies) of the various timelines are great.

Free to read here: "Do You Love the Color of the Sky?"

Rachel Rosen has also apparently written a short story titled, "What if we kissed while sinking a billionaire's yacht?" which short story lends its title to Issue One of Antifa Journal, with this great cover. To read the story requires purchasing the journal, but as an ebook it's only $4.99, so I'm sore tempted.

Final Week of Class

17 Feb 2026 07:53 pm
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[personal profile] wayfaringwordhack
 ...and we are supposed to paint two pictures from our own photographs.  I have been doing this for a while, of course, but it feels more weighty now because someone called it "our graduation" painting. 🤪. I have done two, but I think I will do another to replace the olive trees that perhaps highlights more of the things this course was specifically about.  I'll see if I have more time before the weekend.




Endless Winter

16 Feb 2026 07:13 am
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[personal profile] mallorys_camera
Twenty-five hundred words into Chapter 6.

Fifteen hundred to go.

I have no idea whether it's any good or not. Fictioneering like this is uncharted territory for me. But writing is definitely engrossing, so if nothing else, the Work In Progress will have gotten me through a brutal winter, relatively psychologically unscathed. Which is a good thing.

###

Ichabod asked me point-blank if I wanted him to start giving me a set monthly amount toward living expenses.

I said, No: "Not right now. We both know the financial burden of my support is going to fall on you at some point in the future because my fixed income from social security & pensions is not enough to support me. But I'd like to delay that moment as long as possible. You work hard for your money, and you deserve to enjoy it. I can work the Rube Goldberg side-hustle gigs for a while longer. I'll know when I can't."

Jeanna asked if I wanted her BF to fly me out to New Mexico some time this summer. I said, Sure. Though it's inconceivable to me that this winter is ever going to end: The landscape is buried beneath seven inches of snow, and the sky is unrelentingly grey & overcast. Temps this week are gonna flirt with 40° but drop again next week. I honestly do not know how humans managed to survive these kinds of living conditions back when they relied on wood-burning stoves for heat and horses for transportation.

Eyes Closed

15 Feb 2026 08:27 pm
michaelboy: (Default)
[personal profile] michaelboy
Are you able to miss someone that you never chance to see or touch?
Can you keep looking to them and not see the curve of their mouth?
Without a conversation, will their voice stay embedded in you?
It’s closer to reverie and what you often see when you can not.


* * *

Sinéad Lohan's lovely performance of a memorable Bob Dylan song:

Happy Valentine's Day!

14 Feb 2026 09:52 pm
eller: iron ball (Default)
[personal profile] eller
Again, I made the fitting color for the occasion:

Living Rose mini

Living Rose. :)

I'm kind of busy, but hey, making paint is my way to relax - and anyway, I always need large amounts of dark red, so... XD
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[personal profile] mallorys_camera


A Fitbit that won't stay charged for more than 16 hours is worse than no Fitbit at all.
Reluctantly, I accepted this yesterday and prepared my Fitbit for its final journey to the lithium-ion battery waste facility. Om Ami Deva Hrih...

Do I need a Fitbit? The damn thing has never accurately measured my activity on account of it straps to my wrist, not my ankle, and when I'm walking fast on a treadmill, I hold on to the side rails, I don't move my arms. I take it as an article of faith that the Fitbit measures my sleep patterns, and that's the bodily function I'm most concerned with because I never feel as though I get enough sleep! But does it really?

Whatevs, there won't be a new Fitbit this month. My share of the heating oil delivery referenced yesterday is an astounding $440. I don't know whether this is due to the Law of Supply & Demand—winter this year is brutally cold; people have been going through a lot more heating oil than they usually do; supplies are short—or whether it represents price gauging. Probably both.

Anyway, there won't be any discretionary income purchases this month.

And probably not next month either.

###

Meanwhile, the Social Security Administration is apparently instructing employees to tell hysterical callers, Suicide is one option.

And then there's this article about a male narcissist cult. Members of this cult are called Looksmaxers, and they revere Matt Bomer, whom I would agree is the most beautiful male human ever spawned upon this planet.

###

In News of the Work In Progress, I am deep into hammering out Chapter 6. This one is tricky because there are so many points at which the whole thing could slide off into melodrama, particularly the Spooky Baptism Scene at the end of which Neal is actually gonna swoop down and rescue Grazia. Most of the chapter should be written in a hyper-realistic style with a lot of vivid visuals but minimal humor until after the rescue scene, when the tension lets up, and Grazia can go back to her regularly scheduled wisecracking.

From there, the writing style should get lighter and lighter and lighter until the final poignant line at the end—The heartbreak for me is the lonely guardianship of all those memories, floaters from an increasingly ephemeral past—when the reader suddenly remembers: Oh, right. Neal's dead.

I mean, the whole point of this section of the novel is to make Neal a vivid enough character so that the reader forgets that he's dead.

###

I am hoping to complete Chapter 6 over the holiday weekend.

We'll see if I can.

Barometric Brain

14 Feb 2026 07:44 am
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[personal profile] wayfaringwordhack
 I suffer from migraines, trigged by a couple of things, but as a storm came in yesterday, I was painfully reminded of my sensitivity to barometric pressure.  I know I exacerbated the migraine with my living room cleaning (allergy to dust mites), but the onset of the pain was ferocious and sudden, sending me to bed with painkillers.  I fell into a fitful sleep where I dreamed of having a headache and needing to lie down.  Dreams of being in a snow storm with risks of avalanches burying me where I was cowering with my headache were followed by me going from bed to bed in strange houses, seeking rest and relief.

I woke with the headache about an hour and a half later, long after the meds should have done something.  Then, about 20 minutes later, the storm finally broke and the headache dissipated.

______
 
* The avalanche fears were probably brought on by nearvy construction work and noisy neighbors, which made me think of the several buildings that have collapsed recently in Lebanon.

Bombsite, No Visual Included

13 Feb 2026 09:21 am
wayfaringwordhack: (art - guitton housework)
[personal profile] wayfaringwordhack
I'll leave it to your imagination to picture what our living room looks like as I sort through books, games, puzzles, cables, bric-a-brac...  I wish I were the kind of person who could do this type of task neatly. But, no.  It seems I have to have it all spread out in order put it in appropriate piles of giving (so many different categories here), taking back to France now, taking back to France later... Even the trash is not always straightforward. 

I already threw away 4 sacks of art papers, things I had been hanging on to recycle, to use as collage, for nostalgia, but I have yet to go through all the supplies.  I am sure I will have do a second pass, too, on things to keep or toss as time to go draws near and reality becomes sharper, cutting away the sentimental with the restrictions of space and weight.  Many of my art supplies will go back this time in order to encourage me to finish what I have on hand and to paint things that are easily transportable.

I have hoarding tendencies which I excuse by spouting my philosophies of reuse and less waste.  But the truth is that I have a lot of things I will never use.  I was rather proud of myself yesterday and happy for a reason to get rid of a random object I had found and intended to keep, knowing full well I wouldn't actually do anything with: a discarded Lebanese license plate.

Out of the blue, a friend, who has returned to the States after many years of life in Lebanon, posted on one of our mutual WhatsApp groups that she was looking for a Lebanese license plate to put on her van.  Someone from here is traveling to see her in a couple of weeks and could take the plate back, so could anyone on the group tell her where she could buy one?  Voilà, I thought, perfect thing to do with my find.  Pass it along!  Now she is happy and I have less things to worry about and tote across the sea.
asakiyume: (feathers on the line)
[personal profile] asakiyume
Landline

From the age of three until I went to college, I lived in the same town. We moved house once, but our telephone number stayed the same. When technology moved from rotary dial to push-button, I came to know the sound of that phone number by heart. I could "sing" it.

Even after I and my siblings left home, my parents stayed in that house and kept that number. My mother died, but my dad stayed in the house--with that number. He got a cell phone, but kept the landline too.

Now he lives elsewhere, closer to me and one of my siblings. That house has been sold, and the landline disconnected. But I still call it from my own landline from time to time just to hear the push-button tune. So far, the number hasn't been reassigned.

Reporting for Duty

Reporting for Duty is the English-language title of a Brazilian comedy cop show on Netflix, in which a gentle, laid-back guy from a sleepy district gets reassigned to be police chief in a mafia-plagued central Rio precinct. It's pretty hilarious so far. The second episode, "Good Cop, Better Cop," sees the new police chief, Suzano, and the precinct's second-in-command, Mantovani, interrogating a suspect. "Let's do good cop, bad cop," Mantovani suggests. Suzano agrees, and they go in. Mantovani offers the suspect water. Suzano follows with "Some lemonade? A soda? A cold beer?"





Mantovani is getting more and more flabbergasted. When Suzano offers a charcuterie board, Mantovani asks if she can have a word with him. Turns out he didn't recognize her good cop as good cop. "If you're more comfortable being the good cop," she begins, but he says no no no, he can do bad cop. He storms back in. "You think you're getting coffee? Well no! No coffee because the coffee machine is broken!" [established earlier in the episode]. "And no massages, either, except for maybe shiatsu for your health." --And he proceeds to massage out the guy's tensed muscles.

Suzano gives shiatsu to a detainee while Mantovani watches, flabbergasted

It's a very cute show, and the guy who plays Suzano's sidekick who's come with him from his old precinct has a style of Brazilian accent I really like and have only heard from a guy who teaches ancient Tupi on Instagram.

Diamond and Misty

One of Wakanomori's former students is married and keeps chickens now. He gave W a quartet of eggs, and the carton comes with this cute label that lets you write in what chickens laid the eggs. Ours were laid by Diamond and Misty.

egg carton label features cartoon chickens and says "fresh eggs"

You Are Just One More Annoyance

12 Feb 2026 08:04 am
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[personal profile] mallorys_camera
I'm lucky to have a sense of humor and an obsessive creative project that functions as a background process. Otherwise, life would seem pret-ty grim and absolutely meaningless just about now.

At least, it's warmer! Temps have been above freezing for the past few days and are forecast to be in the 40°s all next week.

On Monday, when it was -4° overnight, I woke up to a freezing cold house because Icky, once again, had neglected to order heating oil, and the furnace had run out of fuel.



Yes, again.

Icky, in NYC, was not answering his phone, so I called the Ulster County Sheriff's Dept to come and do a welfare check—hey! A 73-year-old woman, alone in a 36° house during sub‑zero weather??? Not safe!!!

I mean, I had a space heater, struggling to keep the ambient temps in ny bedroom in the 50°s, so with a coat and a hat, I wasn't gonna expire imminently of hypothermia, but c'mon.

The Ulster County Sheriff's Dept dispatched two officers who were very nice but could do nothing.

"You could try seeing if an oil company will do an emergency one-time delivery," one of the officers suggested.

"And call social services," suggested the other.

I sighed and said, "I didn't think you would be able to do anything. I just wanted this on record in case I die of hypothermia and you need to find the perp to accuse of negligent homicide."

"I will personally pull the electric chair switch on that one," said the first officer. "What a prick your landlord is. The rent market around here is horrifying."

I was due to go into Schlock, but of course, going into Schlock would have meant turning off the space heater because you cannot leave a space heater untended; the risk of house fires is just too great. And turning off the space heater would have meant returning to a bedroom that was 37°.

So, instead, I spent the morning calling around to 10 different heating oil companies and every Ulster County social services department that seemed vaguely relevant to my needs. Interspersed with calls & texts to Icky.

The heating oil companies were downright hostile. Heating oil deliveries? Get on line, be-yatch! And put down a $1,000 deposit! The Ulster County social services departments were bored, dismissive, & condescending. They too wanted me to get on line.

Finally, Icky called back. Wonder of wonders! He was even vaguely apologetic. And arranged a delivery with his regular provider. By mid-afternoon, the house was back up to a chilly but habitable 60°—which is where I keep the thermostat because heating oil is expensive but sweaters and sweatshirts are cheap.

###

The experience took its toll emotionally.

'Cause this is the third time it's happened, and fool me twice... So, I felt like a moron: I should have moved, right? Except if I had moved, I would not have had access to the Schlock revenue stream, which is coming in useful.

But more, I felt brutalized because I was old, scared, and met with a tone that said, You’re just one more annoyance. I grokked the bureaucratic flatness was more about their overload than my worth or legitimacy. Still. I felt very marginalized & hopeless & as if I was of no importance to anyone.

Didn't help that I had to trudge out 100 yards through the snow twice to bring the chickens water. Icky still hasn't dealt with that. No, the chickens are not my responsibility, but I'm not gonna have innocent animals suffering on my watch.

Knee update

11 Feb 2026 10:15 pm
wayfaringwordhack: (Default)
[personal profile] wayfaringwordhack
Saw the surgeon this afternoon, and good news (at least to my mind), the angle of my bones does not merit an HTO. The angle is 0.8% past the allowed deviation, but still small enough for this surgeon to think it doesn't warrant that kind of correction.  Instead, he thinks a partial knee joint prosthetic is the way to go.  This seems less traumatic to me, has the same "life span" as the HTO, and has a much shorter recovery time.  I will probably get the operation after we come back from France in March.  Getting an estimate to run by insurance first.  I am not sure I will get a second opinion on this one because, as the doctor said, I can get more injections, but they don't last long and do nothing to prevent further wear.

Falling in - to this or that

11 Feb 2026 01:55 pm
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[personal profile] michaelboy


You may learn a few interesting things about demeanor when someone has a great set of performance tires. But far and away, you will learn much more about them, in essence when they flat on a highway during rush-hour.

* * *

As I write, I am seated under a big wild-cherry tree the warm day temper’d by partial clouds and a fresh breeze, neither too heavy nor light and here I sit long and long, envelop’d in the deep musical drone of these bees, flitting, balancing, darting to and fro about me by hundreds big fellows with light yellow jackets, great glistening swelling bodies, stumpy heads and gauzy wings humming their perpetual rich mellow boom.

(Is there not a hint in it for a musical composition, of which it should be the back-ground? some bumble-bee
symphony?)

How it all nourishes, lulls me, in the way most needed; the open air, the rye-fields, the apple orchards. The last two days have been faultless in sun, breeze, temperature and everything; never two more perfect days, and I have enjoy’d them wonderfully. My health is somewhat better, and my spirit at peace.
(Yet the anniversary of the saddest loss and sorrow of my life is close at hand.)

From: Bumble Bees, Walt Whitman

An ever-present Should

11 Feb 2026 10:42 am
wayfaringwordhack: (Default)
[personal profile] wayfaringwordhack
 I really should post more. I cannot count the times that I have thought it, intended it, started it, if only in my mind.  This is not an obligation I sense from anyone, not even myself, just a desire to have a better record of thoughts and happenings at this time in my life.  

When I finally sit down to do it, it all seems so big.  Too much to share, too much to sift through, which means I inevitably end up with the Bullet Point Post.

It is what it is.  Let's just do a big one for now, with visuals, and then I will perhaps do myself the honor of respecting my sense of Should in the future.

Pottery:
I have not been inclined to do pottery since before Christmas.  It just "weighs" too much in many senses of the term, and I literally set a mental block on wanting to do it because of the logistics of our move this summer.  I am ready to put the wheel and kiln up for sale (if we can get a good price, this will save us having to ship them back to France where we could probably buy new ones for cheaper than cost here plus the shipping); J, however, is going to do a terra sigilata training with an amazing ceramist come May, and he wants to keep the material to practice.  I have been thinking I could throw a few small vessels for him to practice on, too.  Just to keep my hands in the clay.  A couple of weeks ago, I did throw a tumbler for a friend to practice sgrafitto on, and it was humbling how much I felt like a debutant again.  Silly to say debutant when I did, indeed, start less than a year ago.  I do intend to get back to it, but when?  Too much uncertainty about the future to hazard a guess.

One of the last things I sold:



Kitty
Pearl is doing well, already an indispensable part of the family with her own quirky character.  She is, unbeknownst to her, getting ready to travel with all her shots and tests.   She does NOT like the carrier, so we have to get a good calming agent for her.  Picture of Pearl a the painting below.

Art
I have been painting a lot.  I am also retaking a course that I was trying to complete when the war broke out in 2023.  Aside from my classwork, I did a series of paintings of the kiddos.



Health
Ugh.  I have an appointment with a surgeon today to see if he thinks I need to have a High Tibial Osteotomy for my arthritic knee.  He had me do the x-rays last Friday to see how I bear the weight in my legs and proposed this surgery to correct it if it is what is causing the compression in the inside of my knee. I went into the appointment thinking he would say something totally different, so his prognosis was a bit of a shock.  I still don't know how I feel about the procedure.  I will get a second opinion. 

Move
J's contract ends in July, and the kids and I will move back to France in June.  Where we will go from there?  Who knows. So far, J has applied for jobs in various French Overseas Departments.  He can apply for another embassy post, but that will certainly mean waiting another year before he is assigned, whereas these other jobs could see him leaving as soon as September of this year.  We are once again in the uncomfortable position of "sitting between two chairs," to use the French expression.

We will see where we land!

Travel
We have prepaid tickets back to France at the end of the month. We'll stay for three weeks and get the house ready.  J's cousin will come back and take care of Pearl while we are gone.  We still don't have her rabies clearance, so she can't come with us this time.  Today we went to get our photos and fingerprints taken for our last Lebanese visa cards.  If we had left Lebanon in Dec as we were supposed to as per J's first contract, we would not have had to do this.  It was a painless experience*, so all is good.  The officials assured us the paperwork will be done before we fly out, which is going to save us 200USD in fines for expired visas.

_______
*This is my 5th time doing it, and I have had to wait an hour (instead of the five minutes it actually takes) before on two occasions because the lady taking care of my papers had to chat and chat and chat with friends, totally ignoring me in favor of her personal drama.  
denise: Image: Me, facing away from camera, on top of the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome (Default)
[staff profile] denise posting in [site community profile] dw_news
Back in August of 2025, we announced a temporary block on account creation for users under the age of 18 from the state of Tennessee, due to the court in Netchoice's challenge to the law (which we're a part of!) refusing to prevent the law from being enforced while the lawsuit plays out. Today, I am sad to announce that we've had to add South Carolina to that list. When creating an account, you will now be asked if you're a resident of Tennessee or South Carolina. If you are, and your birthdate shows you're under 18, you won't be able to create an account.

We're very sorry to have to do this, and especially on such short notice. The reason for it: on Friday, South Carolina governor Henry McMaster signed the South Carolina Age-Appropriate Design Code Act into law, with an effective date of immediately. The law is so incredibly poorly written it took us several days to even figure out what the hell South Carolina wants us to do and whether or not we're covered by it. We're still not entirely 100% sure about the former, but in regards to the latter, we're pretty sure the fact we use Google Analytics on some site pages (for OS/platform/browser capability analysis) means we will be covered by the law. Thankfully, the law does not mandate a specific form of age verification, unlike many of the other state laws we're fighting, so we're likewise pretty sure that just stopping people under 18 from creating an account will be enough to comply without performing intrusive and privacy-invasive third-party age verification. We think. Maybe. (It's a really, really badly written law. I don't know whether they intended to write it in a way that means officers of the company can potentially be sentenced to jail time for violating it, but that's certainly one possible way to read it.)

Netchoice filed their lawsuit against SC over the law as I was working on making this change and writing this news post -- so recently it's not even showing up in RECAP yet for me to link y'all to! -- but here's the complaint as filed in the lawsuit, Netchoice v Wilson. Please note that I didn't even have to write the declaration yet (although I will be): we are cited in the complaint itself with a link to our August news post as evidence of why these laws burden small websites and create legal uncertainty that causes a chilling effect on speech. \o/

In fact, that's the victory: in December, the judge ruled in favor of Netchoice in Netchoice v Murrill, the lawsuit over Louisiana's age-verification law Act 456, finding (once again) that requiring age verification to access social media is unconstitutional. Judge deGravelles' ruling was not simply a preliminary injunction: this was a final, dispositive ruling stating clearly and unambiguously "Louisiana Revised Statutes §§51:1751–1754 violate the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, as incorporated by the Fourteenth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution", as well as awarding Netchoice their costs and attorney's fees for bringing the lawsuit. We didn't provide a declaration in that one, because Act 456, may it rot in hell, had a total registered user threshold we don't meet. That didn't stop Netchoice's lawyers from pointing out that we were forced to block service to Mississippi and restrict registration in Tennessee (pointing, again, to that news post), and Judge deGravelles found our example so compelling that we are cited twice in his ruling, thus marking the first time we've helped to get one of these laws enjoined or overturned just by existing. I think that's a new career high point for me.

I need to find an afternoon to sit down and write an update for [site community profile] dw_advocacy highlighting everything that's going on (and what stage the lawsuits are in), because folks who know there's Some Shenanigans afoot in their state keep asking us whether we're going to have to put any restrictions on their states. I'll repeat my promise to you all: we will fight every state attempt to impose mandatory age verification and deanonymization on our users as hard as we possibly can, and we will keep actions like this to the clear cases where there's no doubt that we have to take action in order to prevent liability.

In cases like SC, where the law takes immediate effect, or like TN and MS, where the district court declines to issue a temporary injunction or the district court issues a temporary injunction and the appellate court overturns it, we may need to take some steps to limit our potential liability: when that happens, we'll tell you what we're doing as fast as we possibly can. (Sometimes it takes a little while for us to figure out the exact implications of a newly passed law or run the risk assessment on a law that the courts declined to enjoin. Netchoice's lawyers are excellent, but they're Netchoice's lawyers, not ours: we have to figure out our obligations ourselves. I am so very thankful that even though we are poor in money, we are very rich in friends, and we have a wide range of people we can go to for help.)

In cases where Netchoice filed the lawsuit before the law's effective date, there's a pending motion for a preliminary injunction, the court hasn't ruled on the motion yet, and we're specifically named in the motion for preliminary injunction as a Netchoice member the law would apply to, we generally evaluate that the risk is low enough we can wait and see what the judge decides. (Right now, for instance, that's Netchoice v Jones, formerly Netchoice v Miyares, mentioned in our December news post: the judge has not yet ruled on the motion for preliminary injunction.) If the judge grants the injunction, we won't need to do anything, because the state will be prevented from enforcing the law. If the judge doesn't grant the injunction, we'll figure out what we need to do then, and we'll let you know as soon as we know.

I know it's frustrating for people to not know what's going to happen! Believe me, it's just as frustrating for us: you would not believe how much of my time is taken up by tracking all of this. I keep trying to find time to update [site community profile] dw_advocacy so people know the status of all the various lawsuits (and what actions we've taken in response), but every time I think I might have a second, something else happens like this SC law and I have to scramble to figure out what we need to do. We will continue to update [site community profile] dw_news whenever we do have to take an action that restricts any of our users, though, as soon as something happens that may make us have to take an action, and we will give you as much warning as we possibly can. It is absolutely ridiculous that we still have to have this fight, but we're going to keep fighting it for as long as we have to and as hard as we need to.

I look forward to the day we can lift the restrictions on Mississippi, Tennessee, and now South Carolina, and I apologize again to our users (and to the people who temporarily aren't able to become our users) from those states.
michaelboy: (Default)
[personal profile] michaelboy
If I knew,
Oh boy blue.




Sometimes, I would simply stare at the print of The Three Musicians on my bedroom wall and wonder about the living man who wore a beret. Why did he paint that way? Why did it make me feel good just to look at something that simple and that complex? Afterall, it was just a bunch of lines and color messed around on a piece of paper, and it was more.

In the days of AM, on many nights, I listened to O’Brien on WCFL (and sometimes even Quatre-Vignt Dix from Canada) -- on a Lloyd's analog clock-radio. Those radio waves bounced around the ionosphere at night and somehow made it all the way to the Ohio Valley, not just for me... but it felt that way.

I’d wonder how far Chicago was and just how windy a Windy City could really be. Were folks walking around with wind-broken umbrellas? Did the litter scatter around the streets in wind devils or was this just stupid capricious fancy?

Sometimes I’d pull down my NASA FACTS brochures from the bedroom closet and look at pictures of the Gemini, the Apollo and of all the rovers and probes.

For several years, one of the spindles in the headboard of my bed was loose and to calm myself before sleep I would twist it back and forth -- causing it to squeak. It was a comforting routine. One day, for whatever reason, I decided to work a little Vaseline into the joint at the bottom end of the spindle. After that, it never sqeaked again.

I will always regret silencing it

February Updates

8 Feb 2026 04:51 pm
dray: (Laurels)
[personal profile] dray
Hallo, hope everyone's been well! January was a rough year, but at least February's proving to be a shorter one.

Like usual, I fall off of Dreamwidth about midway through January for whatever reason and then come and go like a hummingbird too jacked-up on sugar-water to remember where its roost went.

I have been resolving for months to do the [community profile] weekendwritingmarathon weekend challenge (to do it every weekend, in fact!) but I keep being extremely burnt out by Saturday, and then use Sunday to get all my chores done, and then suddenly Capitalism has shoved me back into its little hamster wheel and off I go again for another week! I've been also documenting my travels with ADHD for the last three quarters of a year, and there's a very specific and hefty amount of that which blocks my ability to focus, both on creative habits and self-care. So it's been pretty rough.

However, I managed to wangle myself back into my WIP's doc for [community profile] everwood ficlets and [community profile] rainbowfic prompts, and managed to tidy up two shorts which are now up on both communities.

The first, Creature Comforts, follows a short blurb about the dryad Daphne and the lumberjack Boyce, from Daphne's point of view. (I love writing from her perspective because Boyce is not a small man, but she is just as big as he is and probably is twice as strong. It's fun trying to get into the heads of the POV characters as I go through each of these ficlets!)

The second, Blood Siblings, was posted nearly a year ago in Everwood, but I hadn't popped it over onto Rainbowfic yet. It's about Brandili's misuse by her political-marriage, her escape from that, and her burning desire for revenge when she realizes that her husband knew of her hiding place all along and had in fact been allowing her to think she'd escaped him. If everything else lines up, I'm looking forward to when she can slice him up with her badass old pirate's sword or have her real beau shoot him through the heart with a cursed arrow. Forgiveness for past wrongs? Nahhhh.

Everwood is composed of many characters over about a decade or so and it's got a sort of ensemble, episodic bent to it, but I do have an overarching plot and message that I'm trying to weave through it all: Found family and found community are stronger in their day-to-day moments than the unceasing sprawl of colonization... and working through the everyday poison of the effects of colonization can in fact be what makes those bonds stronger. It's meant to be hopeful, in the end. Every one of the characters in this story are weird in some way and a lot of them are on the ropes. There's something about writing them recovering from all the blows they've taken that makes me a little happier.

Pressure Makes a Pearl

8 Feb 2026 09:05 am
mallorys_camera: (Default)
[personal profile] mallorys_camera
CRAZY cold when I woke up this morning: -5°F with a real-feel of -13°.

This has been a brutal winter.

The Work in Progress has really saved me.

It's giving my life meaning & forward momentum at a time when, honestly, life feels like an unrelenting slog.

I am the oyster, goo goo g'joob. Pressure makes a pearl!

###

Why do people join cults anyway?

I think because despite the fact that end-stage capitalism dangles meaningless choices in front of captive consumers—choose between 87,000 (!!!) possible combinations of Starbucks caffein customization options—most people don't like making choices, not really. They prefer to crawl into a set of lifestyle choices that have already been made and claim them as their own.

So, I suppose Chapter 6 begins with an observation along the lines of, In my real life, I made a hundred decisions a day: [Your facetious list goes here.] But here in Creepy Mansion, I made no decisions at all. It was relaxing.

But where does it proceed from there?

A word came into my mind yesterday: Profoundary.

I have no idea what a prefoundary is, but I know it's a key element in the New Millennium Kingdom lifestyle.

Oh, and I do want to do a Bible Study parody.

###

Other than that...

Neal has to rescue Grazia, but I don't want that to seem too melodramatic or Lifetime Television-y, plus Grazia has to be profoundly changed by the New Millennium Kingdom experience—henceforth, she does believe that the Universe has a plan and that every move she makes is part of it, preordained somehow.

And the chapter will end with this line after Neal dies and the point-of-view segues back to the front porch of the Catskills cabin where Grazia, Daria, and Flavia have gathered after Neal's memorial service: The heartbreak for me is the lonely guardianship of all those memories, floaters from an increasingly ephemeral past.

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