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Scrambled cities: If you're not gonna do the work(on your soul), then you might as well work til you die

 There are two tiers in normal life. Those who are survive and those who thrive.  But nothing is a mistake in life: Nothing comes by chance. You have to prepare for it.  If you thought life was about making money and beating out the Jones's, you've lost already.  Life is: Desire for connection. All unhealthy competition is isolating. We live in an isolated-enough world already. This connection comes from a surprising place: Self-acceptance. A lot of us need to go back to the classroom. A lot of us need to take a silent breather and check in with what we need. This takes serious work. It's the real work. It relies on respect for others and self-respect.  A lot of people in the self-help community try to push the self aside: Manning up is the only side of it they see. But there are certain non-negotiables in this life. Certain things we can't cheat ourselves out of. We are not a piece of meat being acted on.    However, this is where God comes in. Some o...
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The Ill-Won fame of Margie Atwood

Idiot

Underlying Margie's benevolence is a hubris that knows no bounds. 

Few writers showcase the ability of even the driest of show-pony quasi-librarians like Margret Atwood to get literary fame with the right Washington connections. 

Margie is the current pest of the literary world. The Gadfly of literary narcissists in the entertainment complex that we fallaciously call "literature" today. That's a long sentence but a necessary one. She used to come up every time I clicked on a YouTube video with her Masterclass Spiel: "It was dark inside the wolf's stomach." 

Yes. . . We know the cheap way to create magic, Margie. You just tell people the spell, with no feeling and they say it and they win a literary prize like you...

Now Margie is going on and on about how her book the Handmaid's Tale will get banned by creating an "unburnable" copy from special materials.  She's taken to the stage, showing how burning the thing with a blowtorch won't work. 

I say you're using the wrong blowtorch, first of all. What you need is an oxy acetylene blowtorch. That thing's flame will cut through anything. .  .  Anyway, this is all very CNN-esque, ivory tower stuff and carnivalesque as well. But it's the most boring carnival of my life, thankfully. It's not my kind of carnival anyway. I'd never attend. And it's not even a real act. William Burroughs didn't need help loading his gun and shooting a pinup of Shakespeare... Probably one of her great friends in Hollywood got the torch set up for her because let me tell you, she looks hella uncomfortable holding the thing.  

The stuff people get up to before elections I guess... 

Oh well. I'm not going to spend too much time on this wretched post, but let's just say she's making waves for no apparent reason. Bottom line being: No one wants to ban your books, Margie. They're too busy with real life. 

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