One Second After by William R. Forstchen. It is right wing, gun toting, claptrap if you want it to be. Claptrap with some very suspect grammar and questionable automobile “facts”. But, I am revisiting the post-apocalyptic genre. If you get over the grammar and talk radio right wing hysteria – it is OK. It is not great literature like The Road. Just a story – in dire need of grammar-checker – designed to scare the crap out of the reader.
Our enemies were smart enough to figure out how to crash jet planes into buildings. So, I’ll accept that “they” could set off an EMP generating nuke. But, just as likely – the sun will flare up – big time – like on September 1, 1859 – Carrington Super Flare. But, the idea that “they” did it to us makes for better right wing, gun toting talk show hyperventilating.
Heading off to the wilds of Lake Anna for the weekend. I am making it into a modified no-technology retreat. Oh I am taking the L1 w/new killer lens and the iPod and maybe the charger for the pod. But, that is it. No computer. No online. For 48 – 72 hours depending on how long we stay. Doesn’t that sound like fun boys and girls.
I really hate the country. Peace, solitude, maybe deers that jump out in front of your car. Yellow jackets and snakes too. The lake is warm. That is the good news. The bad news is that it is warmed by a nuclear power plant. Sigh.
If I survive life in the country then I get to move on to a visit to the dentist, a mammogram and cystocopy. These are strung out like little “jewels” during the rest of September.
I just decided – the iPod charger is definitely making the trip. Tunes to out shout the buzz of insects.
Look on the darker side maybe there will be stars. We don’t have stars in the city. Sometimes I feel like I am living in the Isaac Asimov sci-fi classic Nightfall.
So, if I don’t blog for a few days I haven’t died. I am just enjoying pastoral solitude – cemeteries are like that too.
Truth in bitching. We have yellow jackets in the city too.
Good thing I wasn’t hoping that the new lens would turn me into a wildlife photographer.
The Road. By Cormac McCarthy. An almost unbearably bleak post-apocalyptic tale. But, so well crafted that you are force to read it to the end, knowing all along that nothing good is going to happen. Cormac McCarthy, for no apparent reason moved to El Paso. Lived there for some years. Escaped to Santa Fe. Returned to El Paso for a visit – and was inspired to write The Road.
I read the book several years ago. Have to support old homeboys, you understand. And, the book did win a Pulitzer. A couple of months ago, a bought the audio version from iTunes. I am currently listening to it. The audio version is just as bleak.
It is a modern day Heart of Darkness, but all the more real. Reminding us of how much we have to lose and to treasure the here and now.
And, yes, the film version is coming out this fall. And I wish it well, but will not be seeing it.
Just noticed that my rainy day saving earned a big 86 cents interest this month. MomIda’s mantra of Don’t Spend the Principal ain’t hacking it in the 21st century. Think the old Cash is Trash mantra might be more appropriate.
A new plan for a new reality: When not earning interest, spend on items of interest.
Watched Senator Kennedy’s funeral Mass and explained all things Catholic to Carlton. Catholic does great theater. Only`the insiders noticed that Ted was dissed bigtime by tbe high command of the church.
No new pictures today. Volunteer, rain storm, and a nap derailed photography.
Just curious: I wonder what sarah palin is doing for health insurance these days? Unfortunately I fear that any sort of real health care reform is toast. And that it will be another 15 years before the democrats decide to try again. Is it uncharitable for me to hope that all the screaming lunatics end up waiting on line for free care when Remote Area Medicalcomes to their town?
The fridge is full, the new lens is in the house. Life should be good today. But, the Lion of the Senate sleeps. Life in not good today. Peace and comfort, Senator Kennedy. I can not remember a time where there wasn’t a Kennedy in political life.