". . . But the past does not exist independently from the present. Indeed, the past is only past because there is a present, just as I can point to something over there only because I am here. But nothing is inherently over there or here. In that sense, the past has no content. The past -- or more accurately, pastness -- is a position. Thus, in no way can we identify the past as past." p. 15

". . . But we may want to keep in mind that deeds and words are not as distinguishable as often we presume. History does not belong only to its narrators, professional or amateur. While some of us debate what history is or was, others take it into their own hands." p. 153

Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History (1995) by Michel-Rolph Trouillot

Sunday, November 29, 2020

'Tis the Holiday Season, Yes?

      . . . . El V walked out for three hours; I worked out at home.  Fairly soon, the winter will shorten these walks.  Not yet though; gonna be warmish again tomorrow, with a lot of rain and wind due the storm coming up out the South and the Gulf, which will bring a lot of snow and wind, They Say, west of us, all the way up into Maine. Thinking of making butternut squash soup for tomorrow as an antidote to the clammy feel of an all-day rain on the verge of December.

Schools Open! No Closed! No! Open -- Wait, Closed! Ooops, Open Again!  the mayor keeps playing covid-19 ping pong with NYC's public schools.

In yet another NY Public School volte face, tomorrow, de Blasio again declared Back to Physical School. He couldn’t maintain keeping restaurants, churches, gyms etc. open when he closed the schools. But all the shoggoth real estate gangs are his masters, so keeping bars and restaurants and big luxury shops open is what matters.

Keeping people from spreading the damned virus doesn't matter -- even when all the people who work in these shops and restaurants are sick -- then make the beyond over-worked, over-stretched, underpaid medical people sick, dead or burned out and just quitting. We’re up to the rates we were in May for cases, positives and hospitalizations, which will make a double, triple, quadruple leap when everyone comes back from Thanksgiving, They Say, as They have been warning since September and what happened with Labor Day.

This Thanksgiving week felt endless, not because one wasn't doing anything -- on the contrary. There is so much to do every day, and it never is finished, it seems. Which contributes to a sense of being driven, but without ever an end point gained, from when one can move to something else.  ... No finitum to be had?

Which is why people's dogs have become even more important to them? Dogs need to be walked several times a day, which does punctuate the day by getting out and moving, away from the endless procession of chores, work and other obligations.

Partly though this sense of never ending is due to the holiday $ea$on being ushered in -- the real e$tate emperor$ are determined the City is to $pend as it always has in re$taurant$ and $hopping and $ocialiazing.

Nevertheless, in the past, we have loved this annual interregnum in which we weren't so tightly tethered to deadlines and schedules, with instead a calendar marked with events social and relaxed – not professional. It was a bubble in the year, within which we sort of floated above the usual and mundane -- followed, since January 2015-2016, by Postmambo taking a group of Travelers to Cuba. But we are denied all of that  this year by way of a gang of evil thugs who have for four years sent an army to beat wrecking balls into the nation at every point as hard and completely as possible before January 20th, 2021, while keeping us imprisoned within a virulent pandemic and cynical changing the rules yet again -- de Blasio even, has nothing on their sorts.

Yes, I've begun watching BBC1- PBS’s The Rise of the Nazis, the political history of  Hitler and the nazi party take over Austria and Germany (there are serious criticisms as to both its talking heads and some of its claims). It happened very fast, which I hadn’t quite realized -- I thought it took about ten years. The very first lines of the first episode tell us "In 1930 Germany was democracy, had a free press and was recovering economically. Within four years all that was gone, and the first concentration camps had prisoners." We literally see blood and violence throwing up in the streets and people being herded at gunpoint out of their homes and jobs, taken away.

I kind of knew all this Before.  But prior to these last four years, never had this knowledge felt urgent, threatening and filled with the understanding that this is our last chance to turn back our own version, emerged out of what used to be the democracy of the United States of America, from setting the entire world on fire as on September 1st, 1939.

Yet, here we are, thinking o yes, tomorrow I can dash to Mille-Feuille and get one of 

their heavenly baguettes to go with the squash soup. Can there be greater cognitive dissonance than fear of white supremacist, anti-women, neo nazism in company with a pandemic determined upon the same evil, deliberately cruel, destruction of climate, economy, infrastructure and genocides of all kinds, with -- "O, I can get a genuine French baguette -- even croissants if I want -- made by genuine French people"?

Yes, our lives are generally surreal now, completed the day after Thanksgiving by an acre of evergreens set up as a Christmas Tree market on what had been the only uncolonized-by-restaurants sidewalk block within miles of us. All that's left of that now is a bare 8 inches for the pedestrian to squeeze through.

Friday, November 27, 2020

Thanksgiving TV Dinner

      . . . .The Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode, "Pangs". from season 4, the Thanksgiving episode, of course.  Watched it last night after our really successful dinner a deux.  Moroccan Lamb Pilaf will have to become a permanent part of the meal repetoire.

“Pangs”  has been one of my favorite Buffy episodes all along.  It still remains very good – and, making it all the more pertinent watching this Thanksgiving, "Pangs" includes ‘plague.’ Or syphilis.  Something microbial that kills released by the Native sorcerer who was executed by Spaniards of California's Mission era. Of course the character infected is perennial butt, Xander. But it does get in history, which is another reason this has always been  one of my favorite episodes.

The episode gets in everything that people dream to be the Traditional Family Thanksgiving they want it to be, to how Thanksgiving generally works in reality, when it is family-centered: the insufferable instruction from the newly clued in kid home from college for the holiday, political arguments about history, while Mom, determined to save her perfect Thanksgiving with all the people at the table behaving just as she wants them to. Which means she manages to find a place for the unexpected guest but squeezes a place for that guest at the table anyway.

This is the Buffy family, so Things Untoward Happen. But what's always been most notable for me in this episode, which is ultimately about family, was who wasn’t present at this meal.  Riley, who’d gone home to Iowa for his Saturday Evening Post  cover traditional country Thanksgiving with great big family.

Thus it is equally notable as to who was there, for Buffy's Thanksgiving.   Spike – who had nothing to eat on this day of gorging.  But he was there, as he was even through the very end, and on into the Angel universe. Gads Marsters plays his character so very well throughout all his permutations.  What's even more impressive is at this time no one involved with the series could know there was a season 6, much less what was going to happen in season 6 -- or season 7.  To me this has been a turning point episode in the Buffy verse.

This is also, in spite of Big Matters, one of the funnier episodes, with Buffy as Mom who is going to have Thanksgiving as she pictures it or kill everyone trying, and Giles as reluctant Dad who has no choice but to go down before Bulldozer Thanksgiving Buffy.  Marsters contributes a great deal to the comedy.

I haven't watched any Buffy in years, but I easily could get sucked back into the Buffy verse.  I have the complete boxed set of seasons sitting right here, to hand, by the dvd player.


More new books arrived today. We are hunkered now, isolating as much as possible. Thus all the phone calls made and received from friends all over who are in the same situation were so precious.  We talked, we zoomed, we emailed.  We're all determined to make through to the other side.  So we all stayed home yesterday and ate by ourselves. 

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Read, Watch, Eat: Thanksgiving 2020

      . . . . Ordered a newly published book today, first in quite a while; I'd put a hold on it from the NYPL, but it is still on order and there are 18 holds ahead of mine, so I gave in to temptation: The Last American Aristocrat: The Brilliant Life and Improbable Education of Henry Adams by David S. Brown.

The Last American Aristocrat,” a new biography by David S. Brown, “reveals how dynastic burden shaped the personality and career of the brilliant, bitter and thoroughly unlikable man who brought the prominence of the Adams family, and expectations for the endurance of political legacies, to an ignominious end.

Plus, how strongly Henry Adams despised and resented President Grant! Gore Vidal went right along with that, lifting (almost) entire paragraphs from Adams's presentation of Grant, in his novel, 1876.  (Yes, Henry and Gore shared unlimited reservoirs of vitriole, malice and envy of others' successes.)

This pairs nicely with the just finished, frustrating, This Vast Southern Empire: Slaveholders At the Helm of American Foreign Policy (2016) by Marthew Karp.  Karp quotes Adams frequently throughout. 

Brown's Last Aristocrat will go equally well with my most recent biography of a 19th century New England aristocrat, The Civil Wars of Juliet Ward Howe (2016) by Elaine Showalter.  Never mind that Julia Ward was from New York City, known both as "the Diva" and "the Belle" of her generation of wealthy heiresses.  She foolishly married Samuel Gridley Howe, a Bostonian, and suffered for that until he died. In fact, Howe didn't even live in Boston per se, but South Boston, surrounded by rough, laboring sorts, that was two and half miles away from anyone in their own social circles. Despite his intimate relationship with Charles Sumner, one of the most famous of Abolitionists, he didn't even like Julia participating in that movement. Already, during their honeymoon, Julia concluded Howe should have married Sumner, as "she" was more suited to him than she was.

Howe, an intimate of the intimate circles around Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, which included Sumner, kept the future author of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" fairly locked up in his school school quarters for his Perkins Institution, the first school for the blind and deaf in the US.  He believed with every fiber of his being that women were only wives and mothers, and had no desire for doing anything else except caring for her family -- and certainly no desire for sex or sexual feelings at all, much less a desire for personal fulfillment in work.  In fact, this much older husband, was remarkably like Julia's vastly wealthy banker father, whose more than handsome legacy to his daughter Howe busied himself in losing as fast as possible. Hawthorne and Longfellow, and Sumner too -- and so did William Wordsworth -- thought Julia was 'forward' and heartily disapproved of her having opinions and speaking them.

Julia's husband, Samuel Gridley Howe, was as wrong a husband for her -- or just about any woman as could be. He even (unlike Longfellow) objected to women using ether to escape the dreadful, prolonged agony of child birth. He was as wrong for Julia as Henry Adams was the wrong husband for Clover (and  would have been for just about any woman).  But Julia was of sterner stuff than Marian 'Clover' Hooper Adams.  Julia persisted.  She did not kill herself. She did become famous in the public sphere. and she outlived the appalling, Samuel Gridley Howe, with a reputation in U.S. history at least as well-known as his.

It's interesting, while the Longfellow biography I read earlier this year, was filled with so many loving, happy marriages in the circles around the poet, both these books feature deeply miserable, failed marriages.


When it comes to watching, some nights, as briefly as it happens in my dreams too, I soar and fly!  There are scenes in Nirvana In Fire episodes in which martial artists from the Pugilist World evoke what it must feel like for a human to fly -- that purposed weightlessness. This is as much a contrast with the scenes of Saraphina Pekkala flying in HBO's His Dark Materials, as we can get; Serafina straining to hold to her position, flying against the massive weight of air.  This is the best stuff in Nirvana In Fire; most of the productions scenes are pedestrian talking heads, in the way the BBC's early foray into historic, period drama was with I, Claudius.

I'm only up to episode 18 of 54. But at this point, the Turkish Ertugrul: Resurrection, has much more sophisticated, active cameras and a large variety of locations, many of them landscapes. The plotting is at least as intricate, but a lot more specific.  Nirvana In Fire can get claustrophobic at times.


Busy days at home, trying to keep going, while we ascend upon wafts of hope, and then crash painfully again, smashed against the impermeable boulders of the idiocy of nearly half the nation's population when it comes to shoggoth and his equally cruel, determined to-destroy-the-country-and-its people, minions -- and the even larger portion of the nation's population determined that they are exempt from following guidelines and regulations, about covid-19 -- particularly about traveling, mingling, wearing masks and keeping Distance.  So many infected, hospitals and morgues overwhelmed, yet even otherwise smart people insist they will fly and drive across the country to, o, Minnesota, to spend the holiday weekend with their children, grandchildren, siblings and grandparents (including our own relatives). 

The white supremacist conspiracists and the flouting of Covid-19 sorts, merge with our state and city politicians who decided to lose the city yet another bunch of money by shutting down the public schools, but obeying the real estate moguls by leaving that travesty of  'outdoor' dining and restaurants OPEN. A construction with roof and ceiling, closed windows and walls and doors with heat lamps on the floor pumping out dry hot air is neither outdoors nor ventilated. Nor is it Distanced, as groups of 10 and more, without masks, dance to their own party around their 'own' table. Depressing. Distressing. Frightening.

We too are fighting off being depressed because for the first time in our lives we will not be spending this day with others whom we love, respect and admire, all of whom enjoy the company of each other socially and professionally.  But not possible this year.

Thus I spent a great deal of time fretting about dinner for tomorrow.  We are eating so well all the time.  What could I possibly come up with that we haven't done, if not frequently, still, not that long ago? Though it feels much longer, it hasn't even been a full year of Distance and constant anxiety and adjustment to this way of life, which starts with eating everything at home.  The stuffed refrigerator and freezer hasn't space for a turkey; the ten lb ones are running well over $50 (also, organic, free-ranged and local, so actually that's a good price, considering).  I like turkey but not $50 worth, not in These Times!

Ah ha! it came to me in the night: Moroccan CousCous Pilaf.  Have all the necessary ingredients including the almonds and pine nuts, lamb in the freezer, el V brought home fresh mint and parsley from the GG the other day.  I've never made this, though have enjoyed it in restaurants.  It will go well with bread, olives, salad and a bottle of a particularly nice Spanish wine that was stored away a couple of years ago.

Monday, November 23, 2020

Lost Empire's Lost Magic

      . . . . This morning, with tea, reading a London Review of Books's "Diverted Traffic" piece, was struck by this, as was the author:

Warren Hastings's Calcutta 1789

"... how little enduring fiction emanated from British India, despite its commanding hold on the imperial imagination. With the exception of Kipling, many novels about colonial India have fallen between the cracks: who reads Meadows Taylor or Flora Annie Steel now?"
-- Maya Jasanoff; "So Much for Staying Single" / LRB, Vol. 30 No. 6 · 20 / March 2008

However, that leaves out the most well known fiction* of all, out of the British Indian Empire, which, these days, I'd argue, is even better known than Kipling's, Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden. Though, strictly speaking, this fiction isn't 'about' India, but India and the scent of the far-off, the exotic, including the exotic right at home to the middle-class reader in the twilight of the British Empire, permeates The Secret Garden. Without India and the very idea of 'magic' Mary Lenox brings with her from India to Dickon's Yorkshire, this novel couldn't have exerted the spell upon generations of readers, which it still does, even now.

The magic of the British Isles' North in fiction -- has endured, from Sir Walter Scott, right to Ann Cleeves and beyond.

* Or would that be Paul Scott's The Jewel In the Crown, thanks to the BBC (1984)? Though those books were about the end of the Empire -- which Mary Lenox and Colin Craven would witness, while probably having lost a son or two to WWI, while one of them, if not both, may have succumbed to the Great Influenza.

Friday, November 13, 2020

Friday 13th: Drifting Into Darkness

      . . . . Friday 13th began appropriately. Woke into cold wind and rain. Then switched on the Big Computer to learn what the latest announcements regarding Covid-19 were for NYC, while waiting for the tea to steep.  But instead ...

What happened, evidently, is MS started installing this massive  update last night and I shut it off in the middle.

But when I shut down last night there was no notification that updates were either pending or happening. Not at all. I always see that message if there are pending updates because it is there on the shut-down menu. If updates are pending, there is a menu of options to upload now and restart? upload and shut-down? Or, updates installing, do not shut off your computer.

None of that there last night. So all was borked this morning when I booted up.  Could not even log on.

And just then el Vaquero calls out to me to look at these computers and tell him if I like any of them, because he's ordering me a new one as we'd planned to do since last winter. 

I booted up the small computer, which is still running just fine though I don't use it for for much, but to watch shows on Brit Box and read downloaded e-books in bed.

 So there is the news and it's even darker than usual (except for Biden-Harris, etc. thank all the powers -- and what too those damned powers so goddamned long hmmmm?_ though entirely expected.  Yesterday the Governor announced more travel quarantines and, starting tonight, the restaurants had to close their 25% indoor dining at 9 PM and their outdoor 'dining' then too, though they could continue to provide take-out service and delivery.  Also gyms and other public venues such like are to close.  No public gatherings -- meaning churches, etc. more than 10, or at home either.  But how does one police homes?  Which now is where the real transmission is going on?  Especially when the rethug NY assembly idiot on Staten Island thumbs his nose at the governor and publicly announces his family is having a huge Thanksgiving dinner together and there a many of us and we WILL NOT WEAR MASKS.  That's RED Staten Island for ya, full of cops and other anti-social sorts.

Today, the stupid mayor announces it's likely the city's public school system will close and go entirely Distance Learning, even as soon as Monday, so parents make plans.  But he's NOT closing the stupid restaurants, which, far more than the schools, are places people, especially now, are getting infected.  We're already considerably over the mark he'd declared for shutting them the restaurants but he hasn't, and has reopened hotspot zip codes throughout the city.  What kind of management is that, I ask.

The rain stopped.  Amigo K was in the nabe, so donned my mask and coat, cashmere scarf, cap, gloves and coat, and hung out with him for a while.  It was so great to talk, mask-to-mask, instead over the phone for once.  Good stuff happening with him and C, and I'm so glad!

In the meantime, el V got Big Computer up and running, uninstalling what had gotten installed ... and and and.  (According to the googles, there are hordes of miserable MS users who have been highjacked by this update that never updated.)  But ordering the new computer is still in process; I just have to decide which HP seems best for my needs.

But with shoggoth refusing to concede and desperate for his narcissist-sociopathic supply and the states running out of not only ICU beds, but all beds, medical supplies, medical personnel -- and by golly, even teachers ... this is looking ever more dire.

How in heck are we going to avoid catching it, no matter how careful we are, when this isn't even a wave like last winter and spring, but a national tsunami?

And yet, while hanging with much beloved friend, the sky turned blue and golden leaves fell into my hair.

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Watching In Our Days of Darkness + Reading Wednesday

     . . . Last week we got tipped to a Korean streaming site that allows free access to Nirvana in Fire (2015), the Chinese series with which so many viewers in the US and Asia have passionately fallen in love. There are many fan sites and fan writing so the title may be a familiar one.  One does not need to sign-up for the paid service without commercial interruptions. As I haven't interest in the full service, I'll put up with the short commercials.

The English subtitles are good, the viewing quality is outstanding. Evidently the showrunners had an unlimited budget for production, locations and wardrobe, cameras and editing. The capital city is a huge, lavish set, which is shared with other productions. What we get on the screen is beautiful as well as graceful, so much so, it hovers at Too Much, at any moment about to fall into an overly styled realm of rococo preciosity -- at least to my USian eyes. 

However, the actors save the screen every time. They are not mannered or styled, or precious.  At least so far. Their screen presence is like to that of the most centered characters in Marco Polo, which Netflix lamentably canceled in 2016 after only two seasons.

Nirvana in Fire's first season has 54 episodes; The sequel season has 50 episodes, but I don't know if that's included on this service with the first.

Like the Turkish 13th-14th C epic series, Ertugrul: Resurrection (2014 >>>), with which I fell in love around the same time West Coasties were falling for Nirvana in Fire, two eps per day were broadcast. Like Ertugrul, extremely popular also outside of Turkey, Nirvana in Fire (extraordinarily poor title in English -- what it would be in Chinese?) this 6th Century Chinese epic, is extremely popular outside China too. Ertugrul also shares all the themes and concerns that Nirvana In Fire dramatizes, as did the real Turkish tv equivalent to Nirvana In Fire, set as it is primarily within the claustrophobic, toxic atmosphere of an imperial palace, The Magnificent Century (2011 >>>), also passionately popular outside of Turkey. What Nirvana in Fire doesn't share with Ertugrul, is the splendid horses and the relationships the riders, particularly the protagonist, Ertugrul, have with their steeds.

Back in 2018, Strange Horizons provided the best description of Nirvana in Fire that I, at least, know of in English, written by Erin Horáková.

Nirvana in Fire participates in several generic categories, aligning itself with historical fiction, fantasy, political fiction, family sagas, romance, the cop show, drama, and comedy. I get a strong sense that it’s positioning itself largely against Asian genres I’m not very familiar with: the umbrella categories of C-drama, most obviously, but as SF, Nirvana in Fire works something like a super-heroic wuxia. I saw a weakly translated fanfic reimagining the story as shenmo, which is both a fascinating idea and an illustration of how various international definitions of the fantastic may not neatly map onto one another.

I finally settled into watching two nights ago. (For some reasons it takes some energy to fulling commit to watching a new series.)  Having now viewed 4 episodes, I think Nirvana in Fire may well be my always dependable Watching through the end of the year. Thank goodness for that, since we have dark days ahead.


O ya, Reading Wednesday: This Vast Southern Empire: Slaveholders At the Helm of American Foreign Policy (2016)  by Matthew Karp. 

Which they were, the slaveholders, running US foreign policy to protect slavery everywhere in view of protecting their own economy, for most our nation's history until the election of Abraham Lincoln.  And then, they really cranked up the steam engines for protection of slavery and a slavery system.  By then of course, despite Britain having freed the West Indian colonies' slaves, Britain was fully operational with other forms of slavery, in the West Indies and their other colonies in Asia.  In many places such as the opium plantations and factories in India, it was plain, out-and-out slavery.  Other European nations with colonies were doing the same.  This is an informative account of how then how the US's southern slaveowners and their counterparts in Europe worked in other parts of the world to prohibit abolition in Cuba and Brazil.  Protecting these two hemispheric slave systems meant protection for their own.

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Code Red, Red, Red, Wherever We Are

     . . . .NY's C-19 positivity/infection rate has risen from 1% to 2% in the last 3 weeks -- since indoor dining, etc. was opened. Deaths and hospitalizations have also steeply increased since that time. We are at the point that Cuomo said he'd reassess indoor dining, etc. Will he though? All along there have been locations where the rate was much much higher than this, and then he reversed himself and took away the quarantine and allowed the schools to reopen.

I sure wish he and the mayor would do for NYC what the mayor of Denver has done as of today: mandated a 10 PM curfew -- except I think here it needs to be 9 PM.  Denver thinks having a curfew will enable Denver to avoid another shut-down.  I haz doubts a 10 PM curfew will be that effective, shall we say.

He's already issued partial-assly 'quarantining' directives on those coming in by plane.  Which you know is so enforceable. But he's put the National Guard on it.  NYC police are useless for anything but beating up people.

The governor's also requesting ing all private colleges and universities to switch entirely to Distance Learning, no f2f classes, at Thanksgiving break.

Does he want to get those kids out of his state's stats, by them going home for T-Day and keeping them there? OTOH, it keeps them from returning with infection from partying on their home turf over the break.

For weeks already the experts have been informing us -- not just NY but the world -- that the next two, two and half months, are going to be the worst yet, worse than last winter.

Honestly?  With the incredible numbers that grow larger every day of new infections in the nation and the world, it feels nearly impossible that we, meaning at this moment, just us, el V and me, to avoid contracting it.  We were successful but we lived totally isolated, ordered everything by delivery, and the streets were empty too, so when we went out we could avoid each other. But now? With everything open? Just not possible. Which is why I think if we even got a curfew 10 PM is just too late.  This part of NYC is where outsiders come to party.  One can't avoid the virus that way, no matter how well masked, gloved, sanitized and disinfected.  We are surrounded by the very demographics that spread widely while barely sick or asymptomatic themselves, and they are the ones who -- particularly the males -- just refuse to mask.*


* Ladies, take notice. If a guy isn't wearing a mask, and complains that masks are emasculating and inconvenient -- even a bit uncomfortable -- he won't wear a condom either, and he'll lie about it.  While expecting you of course to wear 3 1/2 inch stilettos at all times.

Saturday, November 7, 2020

Na na na na, hey hey, goodbye

      . . . . The title line is what they're singing in Brooklyn right now.

However, earlier --

11/07  Woke the same WaPo headline to which I shut down last night: “Biden inches closer to victory ….” 

Dreamed last night of wildfires and voting.  Though the wildfire was in the dreamscape rural landscape of the childhood North Dakota farm where I grew up.  It was a more like an oil refinery black smoke fire coming from a neighboring farm. 

The voting was more a dream C'ttown location than a dream downtown NYC location.  The latter may have come out of the contemplation of what the Eastern Shore of MD is all about, where Kent County and Chestertown are located, that confederate MD, where Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman, and their family members were casually but intentionally abused every single day and night, every time they were in the proximity of a white person, both physically and mentally.  No wonder its taken all these decades for the Kent County Black communities to come enough out of their protective shells to start working, even a little, even now, with the local white activists such L-- and C-- . whom they’ve known all their lives too, since the Civil Rights era.  Trust … that can’t grow completely not even in 6 decades of proven honesty and respect, not after 300 + years of constant, systematic abuse.

Then . . .

11:36 AM – PA called it for Biden Harris, so then did the A&P and the networks!  Hearing screaming on the street through the sound of the Zoom Slavery and Cuban History Conference from the Gilda Lehrman Ctr. at Harvard. The presenter at the time, who lives in Washington Heights, interrupted herself to say, "I'm hearing screaming from outside in the streets. Do you think...?" Went to the NYT.  I screamed – HARRIS, a woman VP, and Black!


Washington Square Park Today

It's so happy making to be outside and see these elderly ladies of the neighborhood, who clearly have known each other all their lives, who are widows, talking of standing in lines of 3 - 6 hours long to early vote here.  

Everybody who isn't Them has had a stake in the Biden-Harris campaign, some far more than others, like Our Ladies of C'town, but still all of us, who have done what we can, which in our case mostly was donations, donations, donations to the candidates, not just Biden-Harris, but the local candidates around the country. Last night already we were getting pleas to donate to the Georgia Dem Senate run-off campaign.

Everybody has earned this great day of public celebration which is also a real repudiation of him and the last 4 years, that not even he can deny, as much as he may lie and lie, and lie some more about it.


When I returned from walkabout during a break in the conference, the local Bistro brought out a glass of champagne for myself and for el V, to go.  And lordessa, is this Conference ever wonderful!  The perfect thing to have going on for us this weekend, since They took Cuba away from us again.  Maybe Biden-Harris will give it back, but then, that was the one strategy They followed that worked for Them. Florida for Them.  Feh.

But for now? Hooray!  Hooray!  Hooray!

I loved what a fellow in Chicago said, when he came out of a grocery store and saw people celebrating wildly.  "It's so good for us to celebrate.  It's been so long since we could be happy together."

Friday, November 6, 2020

Bubbly On Ice

     . . . . Beautiful day here.  Went to library and TJ’s and the wine store.  Got a bottle of bubbly to celebrate when, finally, the official call is made.  At 4:49 EST and it still hasn’t been, though everyone knows Biden-Harris carried the day, very slowly, and very carefully. Otherwise the Secret Service wouldn't be hardening the air space and other security over and around Wilmington.

Asshat ‘center Dems’ who lost their campaigns are whine blaming it’s because of AOC, the socialists, the ‘progressives’ and defund the degenerate cops movement. AOC ain't havin' that!  She breaks it down, as to what her sorts do and did, and their sorts didn't and won't.

Myself am giving All The Points for the Dems making it through this campaign and election to Stacy Abrams, the Squad, BLM and all the other progressive activists for the Biden-Harris ticket. 

Myself am also giving All The Points to OUR WHITE DEM ACTIVIST INDEFATIGABLS of C'town and all the other places like C'town, i.e. ‘white suburban women’ -- who have been knocking their brains out, doing everything to get people of every sector registered and informed and voting, including baking, cooking, driving and poll working, giving money -- and doing it not just this year but all the time, but particularly this year -- they too deserve every bit of thanks and gratitude from the rest of us.  They never give up hope and they always remain totally decent and always have a joke and never lose their sense of humor. All of them are totally competent to run everything -- but that's just it, they don't really want to run All the Things!  They just want a decent world for everyone and their kids, their grandchildren, the cats and the earth.  And that's all they've ever wanted from the gitgo.

Love and congratulations to all of you!

I know it may seem a bit premature, and that's what has become so cool about the Biden-Harris campaign -- they haven't prematurely done anything.  Biden projects and expresses calm and patience.  He counsels calm and patience.  Count every vote he says.  That projects confidence (as unlike the desperate flailings of you know whom).  Count. Every. Vote.  That means not a speck of dirt on which the clowns desperately trying to project their non-existent legal expertise can stand to protest the outcome.

In the meantime, have this photo of Stacy Abrams.  Abrams to run the DNC, hmmm?

4:49 – heard the first Friday night scream here.  The ‘restaurants’ are already starting to be packed.

Myself, giving myself a treat.  I’m having a glass of wine after not drinking any for about 3 weeks; no reason, other than disinclination. But the inclination is now here.  Cheers!

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Protests Resume; One Election Is Only The Beginning

      . . . . Last night may have been more quiet than the River Styx, but tonight it is the opposite. Flotillas of police helicopters polluting the atmosphere both chemically and sonically.  Big demo demanding "COUNT ALL THE VOTES" marching up from Brooklyn to Washington Square Park.

It's been a beautiful day here -- though I wasn't able to go out in it due to working all day in the kitchen and laundry >!< but others such el V were and darling K, who happened to be in the nabe and invited me out to play.  But I was working at work that couldn't be left.  I was so sorry.  I'd have loved a masked hang with K.

I guess we all understand that One Election cannot fix the wreckage and ruin that is this nation (and the world).  We can't stop now. 

Happy to see that the Working Class Families Party gained here this election -- the governor tried his damnedest to get it removed from the ballot.  I voted for my candidates under the Working Class Families column . . . .

All of NYC went exhaustively across the board for Biden-Harris -- with exception of the Fort Apache of Staten Island. (not the Bronx, the original cop Fort Apache (1981) film, 

nor the John Ford WesternFort Apache from 1948).

New Jersey decriminalized recreational MJ.  Which means one no longer needs a doctor's license to print money letter to get medical MJ?  I sure wish that would happen here. But again, the governor is totally against it.

Tomorrow, tomorrow I'll go outside!  All afternoon!  In the sunshine!

Monday, November 2, 2020

The Road To Vote Is Crooked With Many Obstacles

     . . . . Why won't the media call this for what it is, which is terrorism. 

This isn't 'election tensions.' This is straight up terrorism, yet the media won't say it.  Why?

Armed Terrorist Truck Trains closed down the bridges to and from NYC and New Jersey yesterday. It's only going to get worse. Cops did NOTHING because they're all in bed with Them.

Variations of this is going on all over the country, and in many places far more violent with the active inclusion of the cops committing the violence.

Yesterday was, let's admit it, a scary day. For a while, I watched funny animal vids in order to take some deep breaths.

This, this! is much better: