Oh Muses of the Frogs of Doom, sing to me now . . . once upon a time in the bad old days when four boys from a small town in a far away land took over the world without a shot fired, whose only weapon was song . . . when we fought a war with no clear reasons why and no idea when it would end . . . when politicians were corrupt but said they weren't, and people who called them on it were thought the ones who were wrong . . . Which do I sing of, o Muses, o Frogs, the past or the present? And might I be singing of the future, for all is a circle and a cycle and though details change the song remains the same? In thirty-five years I may look back at U2, Iraq and this time with the same nostalgia with which I now look upon the Beatles, Viet Nam, and Nixon . . . but would not that imply that in that far ahead time things will be that much worse?

I pray not, o Muses, o Frogs, or if I am that I am far away from here. A brave man faces the storms, yet a coward knows when to run like hell. At the end of the movie two there are -- the hero and the spineless wretch who saw the writing on the wall and headed for Kalamazoo. So in some twisted way cowardice is actually a survival trait . . . and it's usually cheaper. So sing to me now, o Muses, for I have no axe to grind save the one that cuts the rope holding back my thought balloons. So sing! And the madness begins.

It is the shortest day of the year. December 21st, the winter solstice, MidWinter. I have often toyed with the idea that I should consider the solstices and the equinoxes to be significant days as a Jedi, for no other reason than that they are days that pertain globally to the entire planet regardless of religion or belief. If you're human you came from Earth, and the solstices and equinoxes apply to the entire planet. They're astronomically verifiable, not dependent on human bias or cultural recognition.

Speaking of, the Force tests me again. I'm in the middle of a moral and ethical dilemma regarding a stray cat. For a while I was feeding her, but the food was attracting three other cats who all look to be large males. One of them must have got in a fight with Boo, because I woke up one morning to find Boo with this huge abcess on the side of his head. I took him to the vet and he's all right now but now what do I do? I stopped feeding the little girl cat; the other cats haven't been around, but she is still showing up expecting to be fed. It's been dangerously cold outside for the last week. I know she's hungry, I want to feed her, but I don't want my boys to be torn up by these strays anymore. She can't stand to be around Boo and Fuzz or I'd bring her inside. Every time she sees them she starts hissing and puffing up and runs. The boys are just curious about her but how long is that going to last if she's in their house eating their food? And so here I am, wracking my brains trying to come up with a solution before the poor thing freezes to death out there. And feeling horribly guilty. What, am I supposed to leave her out there to die of hunger and the cold? Or deal with my boys getting beaten up all the time? On their own home ground, yet.

So once again the Force puts a boot in my rear.

At the moment it looks like the only thing I can do is somehow get her used to the boys and take her myself. But how I can do that without her freaking and tearing into one or both -- or either of them tearing into her -- with me having to be out of the house so much is beyond me. Or I can leave her to starve and die from exposure.

No reward, no remorse, no regret.

Merry Christmas everyone...


Oh well. In other news, I have completed my first quarter at school. Grades have not been sent yet. I'm set to begin Desktop Publishing 1 and Pre-Algebra in January. So until then I'm free in the mornings, hence I'm doing my blog here. I came up with a way to end that weird story I've been working off-and-on on for the last several months, so I'll be doing that. And perhaps getting around to writing "Comet Catcher".

I did write a short essay type of thing several days ago regarding the space program and the colonization of Mars. I'm planning to use that as part of my attempts to convince people to hire me, partly writing sample and partly my views on the future of manned space exploration. I think I'm going to expand upon it as it's rather condensed and didn't cover anything in any true depth. But I used that FreeMind concept mapping program to organize my thinking for it, so that was an interesting experience.

I have decided to take my own preaching to heart. I've decided to try to get a job with places like the Air and Space Museum, the Space Frontier Foundation and others like them. If I have to have a day job, I want my work to go toward getting our collective butts off this planet. Time and work is money. I want mine -- my entire life -- to be devoted to that goal. You gotta do what you believe. That's the key to the whole "no reward, no remorse, no regret" thing. The work itself is the reward. If you believe in what you're doing, there's no remorse and no regret. The Force knows there's few enough these days who still hold on to the dream.

And if the life-extension people are right in their predictions, I may see it one day myself. I may never go further than the Moon, but to be there and see the Earth hanging there in the skies ... that's a moment to live for.

So I guess I'd better start taking care of myself, eh? If I want to get off this mudball I can't keep planning on dying at 40.


Still no word on "Shepherds" or "Public Assistance", though I sent an e-mail to Far Sector to ask about "Shepherds" and the editor said he'd be getting to it soon. One man office. So I must be patient.


So am I an "old-fashioned" sci-fi writer because I write ships-n-aliens? I'd kind of prefer the term "Neo-Golden Age" myself... makes me sound simultaneously avant-garde and respectable. The Force help us all...


Greatness came calling, and Pretention opened the door.


Giggling galumphing googleplexes gaining on gigantic gibbering gorkleflortz!!