Saturday, January 21, 2017

Finalist in 2017 Dick Awards (as in Philip K. - get your mind outta the gutter)

That's me on the far right. Go buy the book to see what the fuss is all about. Heck, buy them all. Just buy mine first.
Oh, so now that I'm far away on another planet, people start being nice to me. Spend money buying my book. Nominate it for awards. Lure me into thinking I might actually win by making it a finalist. I suppose I should say thanks for the nomination, not that you have the taste to actually hand over the award to a girl with a mouth classified as a weapon of mass destruction.

I suppose I should say the nomination is honor enough for me. That would be classy. Fortunately, that was another quality my DNA is allergic to.

If you want to see who else is up for the Philip K. Dick Award, check it out here. The prizes get handed out in April at Norwescon in Seattle. I'm not gonna hold my breath about winning, and certainly not leaving this unpronounceable paradise for the swamp that is the US of A at the present time.

At least this prize, the Philip K. Dick Award, has a name that a girl would enjoy being able to brag about: I'm this year's Dick winner.




Saturday, January 7, 2017

Never Truth

“Politics is never about the truth. Who would vote for it? Elections is all about pandering to your tiresome, your put-upon by, and your overweight pretending that their poundage is not at all their fault. To do that, they cannot let a smidgen of truth infect their pure, unadulterated mendacity. No, no. The minute truth gets a toe-hold, soon all sorts of reality-based responsibility creeps in and your creeps won’t be able to keep the delusion going that they are the good guys. The problem with the rest of you is that you’re not miserable enough to need a morally bankrupt liar to hide the ugly reality of your hopeless condition from you. Yet.”

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Resolutions for the 2017 New Year That You Don't Have to Keep

It's the New Year on Planet Earth, which from space you can tell by that little drunken wobble as the parade of midnights travels from east to west.

Typically, this is when even life's winners feel like they have to improve on their perfections by making resolutions that they will not be able to keep for more than a week and thus be faced, however briefly, with the depressing fact that they are no better than anybody else and possibly much much worse. Therefore, in the spirit of interplanetary goodwill, which I am only able to feel for you because of humanity living light years away from my corner of the heavens, I will provide you with a set of resolutions that will be good for you whether you keep them or break them. I got one for body, heart, and mind.

Resolved: not to eat until I explode.

The win-win: No matter how much you eat, you aren't breaking your resolution unless you actually do manage to eat until you explode, in which case you will make it into all kinds of record books and scientific studies, guaranteeing the immortality of fame to an otherwise nonentity.
 Resolved: perform one act of kindness for someone every day.

The win-win: If you do something nice for another person, you get to feel superior. If you don't do something nice for anybody else, think of how kind that is to yourself to not have to put yourself to the trouble of figuring out how to help somebody and then actually doing it. You are someone, so you count just as much as the rest of the losers.

Resolved: to read a book whenever I feel tired.

The win-win: Reading is something everybody agrees is virtuous, certainly more virtuous than napping, and it gives you an excuse to put your feet up and to ignore other people who try to talk to you. If you fail and fall asleep instead, well then you get your nap after all.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Trump, Hillary, and the Lies That Bind

This is the season for politics in the US of A and I am enjoying the spluttering outrage of your fact-based contingent in the electorate once again. Of course Donald Trump can get away with saying Hillary started your Birther conspiracy theory – because she didn't. Me, I'm not the thinker in this family. To understand, and so's I don't have to bother, here's my ma's cousin Claire explaining it in 2012.


It makes sense that the news don't cover the "truth" neither. Who would watch? When Hillary claims Trump is a Birther, you yawn. Even if you love her and hate him – admit it – you yawn. Because elections is all about your tiresome, your put-upon by, and your overweight pretending that their misery is not at all their fault. To do that, they cannot let a smidgen of truth infect the pure, unadulterated mendacity. No, no. The minute truth gets a toe-hold, soon all sorts of reality-based responsibility creeps in and your creeps won't be able to keep the delusion going that they are the good guys. The problem with the rest of you is that you're not miserable enough to need a morally bankrupt liar to hide the ugly reality of your hopeless condition from you. Yet.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

The Four Disagreements

I just read the Four Agreements. Mental Muzak. The human mind is designed to delude you about yourself but you'll be so busy feeling smug in your delusion that you'll whistle while civilization burns. Not that I don't  think civilization isn't a waste of millennia, but you prob'ly think it's awesome. Anyway, here's my antidote ghost-penned by my supposed authoress. 

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

The Election Crazy Show

Your political season can only get crazier. I don't know about you, but I am planning on spending the next 90 days with one hand on a bucket of popcorn and the other on the anti-spacecraft missile launcher in case anybody running away from the madness there tries to come here. Yes, I am a terrible person refusing interplanetary refugees, but then I am not a candidate pretending that you should give me the power to combat global warming with a nuclear winter.  I am not a candidate to run anything, not even my own life.

Not to mention that anybody with enough money to cross the interstellar void uninvited does not count as one of your tired, your poor, your hungry, but in fact will be one of your face-lifted, your rich, and your power-hungry. Those people can come here for vacation, but we got a zero tolerance on immigration here, meaning nobody gets to stay. Except me. And people I like. Which isn't you.

So stay where you are and take care of the political mess on your own planet. This one is taken.

Elections from 1000 Light Years Away

The work it takes to not know a single thing about your upcoming national elections should have its own Olympic sports category. And I guarantee, if they was giving out medals, yours truly woulda got a silver medal if not the gold when I was back on Earth. Being here on Unpronounceable where no one cares, I can watch the parade of political posturing like it's just another seasonal TV show, equal parts cynicism and shmaltz that is the same every year.

First off, nobody, except maybe a couple of guys with Aspergers and no personal life, is looking for real information that could change their mind. Everybody is paying attention so's they can have real or imagined facts to prove the opinion that they already have is the right one. The first time you see and hear a candidate, you make your call, the way you judge everybody from the barrista with the pierced nostril to the jogger in pink velour with her golden retriever and golden ponytail. Snap judgement, right or wrong, that's the motto of the human race.

Then there is the other problem that nobody in their right mind would run for public office in the first place, so even your snap judgement of any one of those louses - or is it lice? - leaves your brain feeling like the inside of a portapotty on a summer day.

Fortunately, your Founding Fathers created a system of government in which it is nearly impossible to change anything. Even when change happens, the people are so not willing to give up the tiny part in the hot mess of their lives that they like to improve the all the truly horrible parts they don't. This is why whole generations protest for the rest of their lives for a return to the good old days, never mind the widespread death from cholera and dysentery, the rape and pillage protocols of conquering armies, and the degradation of slavery and serfdom. Change, these true believers understand, is not a happy daisy in the sun. It more like kudzu that ain't gonna stop after it covers the dead stump you want to hide, but soon will be smothering that old apple tree your granny planted, and you're willing to firebomb the garden just to show it who's boss.  This is why Congress can have a 15% approval rating and a 90% re-election rate. No change necessary here. Do not touch the dial.