the bastards' last stand

I have been intending to write about an epiphany I had after the sudden end of a torrid affair in Barcelona. I was going to write about how I realized that all women are crazy all men stupid, and how that refined over the course of a walk home to be be we all exist on an X/Y axis of "crazy" and "stupid" determined by the extent of your personal privilege. I might write about that later but I'm actually more interested in my continued distraction from writing the things I vaguely intend to write. When I committed recently to posting twice a month I also planned to start writing more regularly. I've come to realize that I have been writing regularly, probably more than the 30 minute minimum that was my goal, it's just that it's in increments of 240 characters or less. I spend a lot of time sparring with dishonest people on Twitter threads about electoral politics and progressive policy. I worry a bit that this is some weird modern techno social media

In 2006 Stephen Colbert gave a commencement speech at Knox College that concluded like this: So, say "yes." In fact, say "yes" as often as you can. When I was starting out in Chicago, doing improvisational theatre with Second City and other places, there was really only one rule I was taught about improv. That was, "yes-and." In this case, "yes-and" is a verb. To "yes-and." I yes-and, you yes-and, he, she or it yes-ands. And yes-anding means that when you go onstage to improvise a scene with no script, you have no idea what's going to happen, maybe with someone you've never met before. To build a scene, you have to accept. To build anything onstage, you have to accept what the other improviser initiates on stage. They say you're doctors—you're doctors. And then, you add to that: We're doctors and we're trapped in an ice cave. That's the "-and." And then hopefully they "yes-and" you back

I made a commitment to myself to start a music podcast that I would post monthly. To meet that commitment I need to post it today. There's a slight problem. While looking at options for hosting the podcast I consulted with a Twitter friend who pointed out the likelihood of being taken down by publishers. I hadn't considered the possibility that anything I might do would be anything other than obscure. So in order to meet the commitment I will post the first episode of my podcast, The Supper Table . I'm in the process of looking for loopholes to do what I want to do in a completely not for profit way.