It’s been a low-key start to 2026, from the very brief fireworks at midnight to the clouds and gloom throughout the day.

Another turn of the screw on our way to the Tribulation.

My grief for a popular culture long departed is turning me against my entire playlist.

It's just another plot development leading up to the Grand Finale.

Long ago, it was as important as learning how to read.

...that which has already been forgotten.

A view of the world from a fine summer’s day in the park.

Death to Nostalgia, Part 1

Just how aware are people, and how many are they?

The Jazz Age, in which that expression originated, is 100 years ago. Everything before 2020 might as well be, too.

More crimes of noticing in our real-life sci-fi dystopia.

The Dreary Sameness of Hell, again.

It’s December and not yet Christmas, but I’m calling it for 2022. Here's my recap of the year and then some.

Of a deceased monarch and the ongoing insults from our media that I need to quit paying any attention to whatsoever.

It just shuffled in muttering to itself, then stood around muttering to itself. Days later, with a lone, choked sob, it shuffled away.

The current state of the apocalypse, with a weather report.

At least you can tell the difference. You *can* tell the difference, right?

Except it’s not, because the media isn’t talking about it. We’re supposed to be angry and upset with the overturning of Roe v Wade.

Who knew the apocalypse would turn out so sordid and tacky?

They have no problem whatsoever getting in your face and shoving their filthy religion down your throat.