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Aargh, I just need to turn off the Internet or something
Gaaahh, I've gotten very little done this weekend except for watching an increasing number of pro SFF writers and editors get drawn into an ever-expanding black hole of stupid. The comics industry, I seem to recall, was a never-ending series of little mini-stupidstorms, moving around each other like weather fronts, sucking people into their vortexes and then spitting them out, dazed, into the path of another oncoming stupidfront. Apparently fiction publishing is not too different.
I'm frustrated and furious on behalf of people I know, people I care about, who are being cut down and hurt by stupid racist stuff that's being said by people who really ought to know better. At the same time, I really do feel for pro writers who are stuck in the unenviable position of having to either stay quiet, and look like they approve of the general fail all around, or speak up against someone who they might one day depend on for a job. I should write more about this, but ... I'm tired. I've been arguing with people online all day, I'm suffering from a major case of Someone Is Wrong On The Internet, and ... blech. Why can't people who are supposedly adults and professionals act like it? (And I've been that stupid white person, too. I've had my own moments of major fail, and one reason why I want to fight the fight now is to try to make up for the person I was then.)
Jane wrote here about confronting her own white privilege in her current project. I can relate; boy, can I relate.
The weather skyrocketed from 40 below early in the week, to 54 above(!!!!!) last Friday. The roads are slick, slick, slick, and the car conveniently broke down on Thursday, leaving us with the truck which has summer tires, a high center of mass, and basically drives like a sliding deathtrap on ice.
Most of the snow has melted. This is going to suck when it gets cold again, as it inevitably will. But the chickens are happy (as happy as chickens get, anyway), and the house is warm, and I like taking the dogs for walks in weather that doesn't require bundling up to my eyebrows.
I'm frustrated and furious on behalf of people I know, people I care about, who are being cut down and hurt by stupid racist stuff that's being said by people who really ought to know better. At the same time, I really do feel for pro writers who are stuck in the unenviable position of having to either stay quiet, and look like they approve of the general fail all around, or speak up against someone who they might one day depend on for a job. I should write more about this, but ... I'm tired. I've been arguing with people online all day, I'm suffering from a major case of Someone Is Wrong On The Internet, and ... blech. Why can't people who are supposedly adults and professionals act like it? (And I've been that stupid white person, too. I've had my own moments of major fail, and one reason why I want to fight the fight now is to try to make up for the person I was then.)
Jane wrote here about confronting her own white privilege in her current project. I can relate; boy, can I relate.
The weather skyrocketed from 40 below early in the week, to 54 above(!!!!!) last Friday. The roads are slick, slick, slick, and the car conveniently broke down on Thursday, leaving us with the truck which has summer tires, a high center of mass, and basically drives like a sliding deathtrap on ice.
Most of the snow has melted. This is going to suck when it gets cold again, as it inevitably will. But the chickens are happy (as happy as chickens get, anyway), and the house is warm, and I like taking the dogs for walks in weather that doesn't require bundling up to my eyebrows.
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