L. David Wheeler

Finally, finally got around to setting up a Dreamwidth account and importing my old LiveJournal into it. Granted, I haven't made any posts since 2016, when my beloved wife Diane passed away -- most of my social-media activity these past several years has been on Facebook, and that probably will continue to be the case. But I wanted to make sure my old posts are archived while I decide what I want to do with this thing.

I look forward to re-establishing connections with those of you who were among my LJ friends, and maybe making a few new connections.

I will post at greater length here next week or so -- most of my communication on the subject has been on Facebook, where far more of our friends are -- but for anyone who's still seeing my LJ posts who hasn't already heard:

My beloved wife Diane passed away last Friday, Feb. 26, due to a massive heart attack brought on by acute coronary disease.

I am crushed, though not destroyed. Diane was THE great love of my life, and none can ever fill that role. I am devoting the rest of my life to living as she did -- fully, truly, kindly, fiercely, whimsically.

Her kids and I, as well as her parents and siblings, have been uplifted by the kindness expressed by so many people, in words, thoughts, prayers, photos shared, meal and other offers, assistance with tasks (both everyday tasks and funeral-related). The wonderful erinwrites even set up a gofundme page for us -- we would never ask for money ourselves, understand -- and the response has been tremendous. Overwhelming. As I've said elsewhere, Diane always thought the best of people, and it's nice to see her proven right.

But still, I am heartbroken. And there will be an emptiness in my life, my heart, my soul for the rest of my life.

Goodbye, my Cuppycake. Until we meet again. And we will. We will.

OK, a mere 10 days into 2015, we finally have my Year In Review, 2014 Edition. A good year, mostly. Actually, a great year, dominated by two main elements:

1. Mawwiage! Diane and I got all nuptialized in September, in an outdoor tent ceremony in Seneca Lake State Park in Geneva, NY, with the lake as our backdrop. There were all manner of comedies-of-errors surrounding the wedding, including the park informing us three days before the wedding that it rented the pavilion to a different party (Diane's dad came through, got a tent and generator and convinced the park -- he and Diane's mom and longtime users of the park marina -- to let us set it up) and a bridesmaid discovering, like an hour before the wedding, that the security tag had never been removed from her dress. (That's when the I-thought-dubious-at-the-time wisdom of booking a hotel 45 minutes away from the wedding to put up wedding party members proved prescient -- said hotel is less than 5 minutes' drive from one of the Rochester area's biggest malls, and one of them proved amenable to removing the tag.) But all the brouhahas fell away when Diane and I spoke our vows and our extemporaneous comments to each other, exchanged rings, and were pronounced married. It was highly enjoyable seeing people from a diverse cross-section of our lives in attendance -- and mrgoodwraith provided the most epic of toasts at the ceremony. (It's up on his LJ.)

That's the wedding; the marriage itself has been blissful. Diane and I just get each other in just about every way, and have a conscious commitment to always understanding each other, always having the other's back, and always, always letting each other know how deeply we are loved.

2. Movin' in. Slowly moving out of my old apartment -- more quickly and maniacally as the lease expiration drew nearer -- was a long haul; it's when one learns how much stuff one can accumulate in 10 years at one location if one is a bit of a minor pack rat. Had help from Diane and her daughter, and a couple friends who helped haul the Big Stuff. But whew, I don't want to do that again for a long while. I'm liking our place -- I'm back living in a trailer park again (deja vu -- lived in one throughout my childhood, adolescence and part of my adulthood), but this one's a nice building in a particular nice park/community. Double-wide, with a garage and a shed. Not parking in the garage yet -- had to have someplace to put that 10-year accumulation of stuff for the short term, after all -- but we'll get there.

That's the Big Stuff, which have pretty much dominated the year. There have been a few other elements of note:

• My mom had a pacemaker installed this year, after a scare in which she was having a hard time walking more than a few steps without being completely exhausted -- turns out that her heart was only pumping at half the beats a minute as it should (and was slowing down further in the ER, which necessitated the decision of running her up to Strong for the surgery that very day). Since then, her heart's been pumpin' right along. Mom is in her late 80s (had her 88th birthday last Saturday), so there's really one health issue after another these days -- but she keeps on truckin'. She's tougher than she'd ever admit.

• After gaffiating a bit from the filk community for a while, though not totally and not completely intentionally -- Confluence 2013 was canceled, we missed OVFF 2013 for another of my mom's health issues, and we skipped FKO 2014 to save a bit of money for the wedding -- we got back in the thick o'things with attendance at Confluence in its new and pretty nifty digs and then at OVFF, the Woodstock of filk. (We also made it to Eeriecon this past year — concerts by Ookla the Mok, Worm Quartet and Luke Ski, among others, plus a reunion of sorts of Radiance, the Houghton College speculative fiction group that mrgoodwraith started back in 1989.) It's not overstating to say that filk has become something of a family for me, exponentially more so since I've been with Diane and she's been embraced by and enfolded into the community as well.

• Work? It is what it is. As at many newspapers, the news/editorial staff is more or less skeletal these days, but we manage -- we do good work, and occasionally great work. I hardly ever get to write these days; I'm mostly on the copy-editing/administrative side of things -- though occasionally I've been able to snag a byline, such as in a recent piece about Robert Sawyer's appearance at the local community college. I keep my antennae up for something within my skill set and proclivities (but with better remuneration), but I'm more or less content. Domestic bliss kinda helps that way.

• Books read this year: I didn't really keep track, but off the top of my head, here's a sampling (there were many more, of course, plus re-readings and periodical copy, research and such):

The General in His Labyrinth by Gabriel Garcia Marquez — After Marquez's death, I thought I should honor him by picking out another of his books (after quite liking One Hundred Years of Solitude and Love in the Time of Cholera). I wouldn't put this historical novel/meditation/reimagined-bio of Simon Bolivar on their level, but it was interesting, if only for the larger-than-life figure at the center.

Redshirts and Lock-In by John Scalzi — Pretty good sci-fi thrillers from Scalzi. Lock-In in particular raises a number of questions about interlocking rights and responsibilities and potential for abuses that Diane and I have talked about. Redshirts was just a great read for this old Star Trek fan.

Innocence by Dean Koontz — Never had read any Koontz before, and was pleasantly surprised by how lyrical and evocative this was, along with being a page-turner. And one heck of a twist ending.

Ashes of Honor by Seanan McGuire — Seanan, and Toby, are reliable favorites: I will pretty much always like her books, no matter what she puts Toby through.

The Given Sacrifice by S.M. Stirling. I'm loving the Emberverse. It's looking like we're poised to jump forward a generation for the next book. I'll be there.

I know I read many more, but they aren't coming to mind right now -- will have to update this later. This year, so far I've read Hood by Stephen Lawhead and have picked up Connie Willis' Blackout again. May keep making my way through Dostoevsky, Dickens, Chesterton, Stephen King and that big stack of science-fiction compilations. May try to catch up on Harry Turtledove, though he writes (and publishes) faster than I read.

Have a good 2015, all.


Words: Blackout by Connie Willis
Sounds & Images: My iTunes shuffle -- currently "Unlonely" by John Prine from The Missing Years
State O'Mind: Content

Some folks may think that, because I'm a Christian, I would agree with and celebrate the recent Supreme Court ruling affirming a town board's practice of opening meetings with prayers, generally from Christian clergy. (See http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702303647204579543572388368040?mg=reno64-wsj&url=http%3A%2F%2Fonline.wsj.com%2Farticle%2FSB10001424052702303647204579543572388368040.html.) And many who share my faith certainly are celebrating it, as they have championed the practice in question in this and other towns

But as for me ... I'm not so sure. I'm leery about it for two reasons: the effect on non-believers, and the effect on believers.

I'm not making a constitutional argument: As I understand it, the ruling affirms previous rulings in favor of public-meeting invocations resting in part on their historicity, going back to the First Continental Congress (which, yes, was pre-Constitution) ... and sometimes it seems the No Religion In the Public Square Ever folks tend to think their modern understanding of the Constitution supersedes that of the folks who originally wrote, ratified and interpreted it, many of whom indeed opened their sessions with prayer. The Court's dissenting opinion has a point, though, that a municipality can go too far in having *one* religion represented. The establishment clause does not bar religion from the public sphere, but it does bar government from showing favoritism to one over the others.

So ... why am I skeptical?

1. Their exclusionary nature. A public, board-sanctioned prayer at a meeting of public business sends the message, implicitly (sometimes explicitly, depending on the people) to those citizens who are not believers that: "This is OUR town/village/county/school district -- we tolerate your presence because we have to, and we suppose you're technically citizens; but make no mistake: You are marginal. You are fringe. You are the Outsider." The more sectarian the particular prayer is, of course, the larger the group being marginalized is: A Christian prayer others those of non-Christian faiths or no faith; a trinitarian Christian prayer others Christians of a unitarian bent; a Protestant or Catholic prayer ... well, so on and so forth. But going the other way, as general and non-specific and watered-down as one might make a prayer (and you water it down enough, and one wonders what's the point), you're still telling the atheists and agnostics (EVEN IF THAT'S NOT NECESSARILY YOUR INTENT), "Hey -- this isn't really *your* town. Not as much as it's *our* town, anyway." This goes way beyond merely "offending" people -- it's about setting up a divide.

2. The effect on believers. I think, and I'm hardly alone in thinking so, that one of the most dangerous things for religious faith -- for any faith -- is to become identified with and intertwined with government, with the prevailing culture. No, I'm not advocating a separatist, isolationist approach to culture for believers (far from it, I believe in full engagement) -- but if (and I'm speaking from my own theological background here) faith is best understood as a personal commitment/relationship between an individual and his God (or gods, etc.) and how the implications of that commitment/relationship should compel her actions in society ... then it's very dangerous when that faith IS the dominant culture. One can just be carried along on the prevailing winds of their culture, thinking they're devout believers when they've never really asked the hard questions of faith -- never really wrestled with God. I tend to think that's where Christianity is in the U.S. these days, more or less. I've known people who have argued that the conversion of Constantine to Christianity (and yeah, there's plenty of debate as to how deeply that actually represented a commitment to Christ on the emperor's behalf) in the long run was a negative for Christianity -- sure, it stopped Roman-era imperial persecutions (though not entirely; there was a later wave), but it set Christianity up to be the Dominant Power, the political force, the empire -- and power is always a deadly, deadly temptation. (One of the recorded temptations Jesus faced in the wilderness, according to the New Testament account, involved taking temporal power.) Generally speaking, whenever people of faith aspire to power, the long-term effect on the faith is negative. And the power proves nebulous and temporary, anyway.

Now. I'm not saying that anything like a majority or even a sizable minority of those supporting public-meeting invocations are consciously or even unconsciously trying to be belligerent, or at least confrontational. (Though a certain percentage probably are -- those who tend to be in the "Say 'Merry Christmas' Or Else" camp.) I'm just saying that I think a number of my spiritual brethren have seen this as a my-team-vs-their-team issue and haven't really stopped to think about the impact: on the message sent to nonbelievers and the dangers of cultural religion (specifically of Christendom, which is *not* Christianity). I do think it's possible for a municipality to have invocations with a policy that provides for full inclusion -- but it seems like such a difficult task that it would take away valuable time from the other business facing the board in question. Most town board or city council members -- this isn't their job, they do it in their after-hours; their time is limited.

I have similar skepticism about school prayer, but this is a big enough text block.


Words: Various science-fiction short-story compilations I've amassed over the years. Favorite of the stories read in the past week or so: Tanith Lee's "All the Birds of Hell."
Sounds & Images: Songs of the Maniacs by Worm Quartet
State O'Mind: Tired

Happy New Year to all my friends on LJ! Saw 2014 in quietly, working on a jigsaw puzzle with my Sweetie and watching the ball drop while digesting a tasty dinner of strip steak and garlic mashed taters and sporadically reading the newest Fables trade paperback. It's been a nice and low-key way to transition into a new year.

The old year has been a mixed bag. On the one hand, it's seen Diane and me grow closer virtually every day, through times of delight and disappointment -- leading, of course, to the impromptu proposal at Astronomicon last month. On the other hand, this year saw some trying health issues for both Diane and my mother, both of whom spent more time in health facilities than they would have ever liked. Diane's harrowing spring and early summer -- gall issues, sciatica issues, and horrific nausea that turned out apparently to be a reaction to her diabetes medication -- were followed by my mom's ordeal of two stays in two nursing homes for rehabilitation, once for a fracture after a fall, once for a mild heart attack a day after she was released from the first one. But the ordeals are over: Diane has not had to go to an ER for more than three months now, and Mom has been home for more than three weeks -- and her two rehab stays have been funded (one through Medicare, the other through Medicaid), and she has home health aides that come by every day or two to check in on her, so she's still able to live independently, which is highly important to her. Anyway, it seemed at times this year that I was living in hospitals and nursing homes -- at one brief period in late-August, early-September, I was running back and forth between my mom's hospital room and the ER waiting room to see if Diane had been admitted. Figured that if I keep bringing different women in to the hospital, I was going to raise an eyebrow or two. I was buoyed throughout by the Lord on whom I rely and who loves both women with a love beyond even mine, and the support and kind words and gestures of many a friend, whether in meat-space or online. Thanks to everyone!

Otherwise ...

• The year has seen some weird work circumstances I can't talk about, but I can say that the newspaper I work at remains a viable news source that's still doing some excellent work.

• I was in an auto accident in late August, the first one I'd been in since 1991. This one, in Diane's old van, was minor; nobody was hurt, and the vehicle was able to be driven home (we were only about a mile from Diane's home), and she was able to take the opportunity to finally change vehicles (she never liked that van, anyway). Essentially, we were last in a string of about four vehicles; the one in front turned suddenly, forcing everyone to quickly brake, and I accidentally hit the gas instead. Whoops, sigh. Felt pretty stupid at the time -- and felt bad about it in other ways, since Diane and I had planned to take her kids to the New York State Fair that day. But Diane was very understanding and helped me stop beating myself up.

• Got to see a couple of my favorite acts live this year -- Bruce Cockburn in February (I think) in Auburn, N.Y., and the Lost Dogs at Boulder Coffee Company, a Rochester coffeehouse -- that last one, I was seated about three feet from the stage -- I could've reached out and touched Derri Daugherty, though he probably wouldn't have appreciated it.

• Lost track of the books read this year, though they included The Gambler by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Another Roadside Attraction by Tom Robbins, Stand on Zanzibar by John Brunner, Transition by Iain Banks and Ashes of Honor by Seanan McGuire (I'm in Chimes at Midnight now), among several others. Liked them all, though Zanzibar was a sloooow slog for the first couple hundred pages before I really started to care about the characters, and I'm not sure I ever really did for Transition.

In 2014, the big plan will be getting married, moving into Diane's home and setting up our new life together as a married couple, with all the logistics that that involves. I also plan to do more "extracurricular" writing, exercise enough to get closer to my target weight, and spend more time with all those I care about. And as always, my ultimate goal is to grow closer to God, to abide more completely in the Vine. At year's end, we'll see how I did.

In the meantime, Happy New Year! May it be filled with joys and challenges, peace and excitement, opportunities to grow in wisdom and faith and enlightenment, and opportunities to just have fun. May you eat lots of tacos, because tacos are yummy. Let's enjoy this shared year's journey, and may its end 365 years hence find you well.

Words: Chimes at Midnight by Seanan McGuire
Sounds & Images: Recently, Heathen by David Bowie and Between Heaven N Hell by REZ, because I'm all schizo, er, eclectic like that. Also highly enjoying the latest Oxford American music issue compilation, like always.
State O'Mind: Content, and pleasantly expectant

It really has been that long since I've posted to LiveJournal, though I've more or less stayed some degree of current in keeping up with friends' LJs. Life -- including a switch to all late shifts, plus an ongoing serious relationship -- has accounted for much of my time; it's been easier to post quick 'n' pithy observations over on Le Facebook. But I still value LJ as a means for long-form ruminatin', and as the venue where I got to know a number of folks and got to know others better. So: the update.

As of my last post, I was around one month into a serious relationship. Now, Diane and I are approaching seven months together and continue going strong. I have never met a woman with whom I was so in sync in so many ways: intellectually, spiritually, interest-wise. We have similar off-kilter senses of humor and aghast reactions to grammatical atrocities and Tremendous Geek Tendencies. She's also one of the kindest, most open and accepting people I know. And her kids like me (and I like them), which is not always the case -- particularly considering the circumstances, as they lost their father to a heart attack after years of ill health. Some of you will remember this post from 2007, in which I held forth on the various attributes I seek in a partner. I've found them all in abundance in Diane. All my friends, from various spheres of my life -- church, work, filk/fandom and so forth -- have been quite accepting and welcoming to her: A particular passel of thanks to the filk community, as they're the ones most likely to be reading this post: When I brought her to OVFF last year, everyone was kind and made her feel at home -- in her own right, and not just as Dave's Girlfriend. I had no doubt that would be the case, having observed it happen before with, for example, erinwrites -- still, experiencing it directly has been a Big Delight. (Sadly, she couldn't come with me to FilKONtario this past weekend; she was a mite late in applying for a passport, and even with expediting it had not arrived by this weekend. May be for the best; she was not feeling well this weekend.)

In other news, I remain at the same company work-wise -- enjoying (most aspects of) the job while still keeping my eyes out for something more lucrative in my general field and my general region. (Due to my mother's age and frequent ill health, I want to remain in the Finger Lakes/Rochester area for the time being.) Still a part of the house church. Still doing a bit of "extracurricular" writing, though I'll keep project details to myself until anything comes of them. Still in an unlikely level of good health. Still have too much beard. And still planning to attend Confluence and OVFF this year (both with Diane). The parody I hoped to inflict upon hsifyppah at last year's OVFF should finally be done by Confluence; heh.

And time constraints are, um, constraining, so this is enough for now. I promise not to let another six months -- or even six days -- pass before checking in again. Take care, all.


Words: Stand on Zanzibar by John Brunner. A very slow slog at first, but it's increasingly captured my interest and now I'm more than 400 pages in. It's very obviously dated in some ways, but in other ways it's both universal and prescient. Heh, Shalamaser and Mr. & Mrs. Everywhere predated both the web and Facebook.
Sounds & Images: Ookla the Mok vs. Evil by Ookla the Mok. Long-awaited, and well worth the weight. Come to the dark side.
State O'Mind: Content

The following is one of the rarest of creatures: A political LJ post from Dave. (For that matter, any LJ post from Dave.) Might not happen again for a couple years.

So I was at the Finger Lakes Grass Roots Festival of Music and Dance in Trumansburg, N.Y., on Friday with my friend D. After a fine and mesmerizing day of zydeco, Americana, sacred-steel, bluegrass and more -- and I would highly recommend, among others, Driftwood, the Campbell Brothers and Keith Secola and His Wild Band of Indians -- we settled into the "Cabaret" building for a couple punk acts. The latter, Atomic Forces, closed out its brief set of inspired noize with some 10 minutes of agitprop from the charismatic lead singer Park Doing about the Citizens United ruling and the undue influence it gives corporations, which already wreak disproportionate influence due to the founders/controlling shareholders' wealth; he specifically referred to the Walton family of Walmart fame. My friend D -- who self-identifies as a conservative albeit with socially liberal stances on issues such as same-sex marriage and the like -- was annoyed at the invective leveled at the wealthy and successful. She asked, Why is it a bad thing for a successful family, like the Walmart people for instance, to make all that money? Why the Walton hate?

Upon thinking about it further, I realize this hits upon one of the main disconnects we see and hear in current U.S. political discourse when issues of economic disparity are raised -- because someone invariably accuses whomever raises the issue of encouraging "class warfare"; of seeking to punish those who've worked hard and become successful (and to automatically suspect base motivations and sinister means on their part); of just plain expressions of envy.

But the thing is -- No. Nobody, other than some hardcore Marxists or whatnot, begrudge successful people the fruits of their success. The Occupy movement, as I understand it, wasn't a protest of the 1 percent's wealth or success ...

... It was a protest of their influence, of their access to policymakers and the leverage their money gives them in seeking to influence policy. People talk about a disaffected and apathetic electorate ... but can you blame the citizenry when most know that, although Joe Public and Joe CEO (and for that matter Joe Hollywood) are all Americans and all theoretically equal in citizenship and in access to their representatives ... Joe Public knows that the people in Congress and the people who aspire to be in Congress and the people in the White House and the people who aspire to be in the White House are far more interested in the views of Joe CEO and Joe Hollywood than those of Joe Public. Both parties court both of the other Joes, and the Republicans have more luck with Joe CEO and the Democrats have more luck with Joe Hollywood, and Joe Public wonders why he even votes. Until and unless he hooks up with other disaffected and discouraged Joe Publics. And this, to me -- in what's assuredly a sweeping and ridiculously oversimplified generalization -- explains the rise of both the Occupy movement and the Tea Party.

So why is such a simple distinction often lost? Why do so many people think that resentment stems from envy of success/wealth rather than the disparity in political access, in the way that, in our current system, money serves as a megaphone or amplifier of one's political voice?

A number of reasons, I think. Partly there's been a failure on a lot of people in Occupy and similar movements to articulate their position well -- many do, of course, but some have given the impression that they just hate the Rich Folk. And partly the mass media these days is, well, pretty pathetic when it comes to explaining anything complex, with context (and I say this as a journalist myself, or at least a proofreader, which is kinda close). And partly because a lot of people on the "other side" deliberately distort that distinction, and make it look like anyone concerned about disparity of access is just a resentful do-nothing communist who hates successful people (or, more alarmist, an army of budding Robespierres who would chop the American aristocracy in their own equivalent of the Reign of Terror. There are people who think the disparity in access to government is the way it should be -- is only fair and just -- as long as their side is the one that's being listened to. Who believe that Money Talks -- and furthermore, that's the way it should be.

Personally, I begrudge nobody their wealth, however much or little it may be, provided it was made honestly and scrupulously. What I do object to is the sense that our government is bought and paid for -- that the only people whose views matter are the wealthy and powerful (Orwellishly termed "job creators" whether or not they've created a single job). In other words, the 1 percent aren't the problem -- the politicians who choose to listen solely to that 1 percent, they're the problem.

The date doesn't usually occur to me when it rolls around each year -- but it just occurred to me that this day past would have been my father's 91st birthday.

It's been 16 years and some months since his passage, the grieving is over, I'm acclimated to it, etc. And, as you know, I'm a Christian with the hope of resurrection -- I affirm, and I usually believe, that we'll meet again. I can't even say that I think about him every day ...

... But I miss him.

For more than 20 years now, I've called myself a political moderate. It's a term that's not all that helpfully descriptive, bespeaking little than an aversion to extremes in policy and approach. I've also called myself an independent, which suits me better, as an expression that my views can't be pigeonholed and sanded down to fit within the parameters of either of the two major U.S. parties -- that of the factors I bring into play when making an informed investigation and judgment prior to voting, political party affiliation isn't one of them. (Plus, as I posted several years ago, I've also stayed clear of political parties for a faith-based reason, as I've seen too many people of my faith who, from my perspective, seem more aligned to their politics than to the teachings they claim to cherish.) Besides, words like "conservative" and "liberal," as far as I'm concerned, have been leached of all meaning -- they say a lot more about the speaker's own stance than anything else. (My own paper has been called left-wing and right-wing -- at the same time. What does that prove? Absolutely nothing at all.)

Well and good -- and I'll probably remain independent, even though that effectively disenfranchises myself come primary time, at least in my state. But as the political dialogue gets louder, coarser, shriller and more ridiculous (with bombastic claims of "war on faith" and the like) ... and as now in the Facebook Era I see how many of my old high school classmates have moved rightward of me (or maybe they always were, and we never talked about politics; or maybe I've moved leftward) ... and as people in various circles in which I move think nothing of, say, unleashing all manner of anti-Obama invective casually, figuring that, well, pretty much everyone in the room must agree with them ... and as each day brings a statement out of a candidate's mouth more jaw-droppingly outrageous than the day before ... I wonder whether I'm still that moderate. Politically, I don't really know what I am -- kind of a mutt, really.

( 10 RANDOM THINGS I THINK )

So, we appear to be some 26 hours into a new year. Well met, say I. I don't have any momentous departing words for 2011 -- it wasn't particularly momentous either in a positive or a negative sense. Mostly, it was quick -- as in, really quick. Which may be a function of age, or of too-long workdays, or something.

While I appreciate the clean-slate attribute of a new year, arbitrary as the Jan. 1 date may be, I don't do conventional resolutions -- more like basic over-arching goals toward overall improvement in every sphere of my life (spiritual, physical, social, financial, creative, vocational, intellectual, and general attitudinal). Last year I set a basic goal of overall, complete transformation. I realized that's a bit much for a grandiose one-year plan, so I made it into a grandiose three-year plan, which I'm one-third into now. 2011 saw some steps forward on a couple fronts: I'm slowly developing a more focused approach to life; I'm finally on course to be out of dire financial straits; I was able to resume some duties at The Company that I dearly loved and found fulfilling but which had been unceremoniously taken out of my hands in early 2010. This year I'm hoping to kick healthier-living and some dormant creative projects in gear, and maybe being somewhat less reclusive.

As ever, I hope to discover what "transformation" in each sphere entails as I go along, ideally in fellowship with the Author of my being who knows His plans for my welfare, future and hope.

Yeeks, the preceding several paragraphs were mighty hifalutin'. One "resolution" I will make is to spend considerably more time with the people I care about, and if you're reading this post, chances are you're among that subset of the human race. So ... lookin' forward to seeing you sometime soon.

Happy New Year, all. Enjoy writing across that blank slate of 2012 -- may your lives write poetry and comedy and romance and adventure across its pages. May any conflicts and tensions promote the character development. And may it have a happy ending ... one that sets up for the sequel.


Words: Finished Brian Aldiss' What Can Replace A Man short-story collection. I'd read about half of it this summer and then misplaced the book until last week. Good, good (and highly diverse) stuff -- the human condition reshuffled many different ways.
Sounds & Images: Saw The Adventures of Tintin tonight and was quite pleased. I've been a Tintin fan since, yikes, age 7 or 8 or so when I found a few battered volumes (Land of Black Gold was the first I remember seeing, I think) and when The Black Island was serialized in a children's magazine. So I approached the Spielberg-Jackson treatment with the same trepidation one usually does with adaptations of books or comics or such that's important to one. Needn't have worried -- from the wonderful opening-credits sequence, I knew it was in good hands. I hope this catches on well enough for future installments.
State O'Mind: Anticipatory