Sunday, November 23, 2003
I was in utero when John F. Kennedy died. I will never cease to find it odd that we count the moment that a life begins from the moment the child leaves the mother's body. The Chinese have a better system, I think. When John F. Kennedy was killed in Dallas, forty years ago today, I was about three months old. There's no way of reckoning the stress passed along to me from my pregnant mother, but it must have been significant. I was conceived in one world and born into another. I'm not sure if the assasination, per se, was The Moment when America lost its innocence, but it was certainly devastating and must count as one of the milestones in an age of terrible, violent, rapid transition. Today, it's impossible not to play the "what if" alternate-history game. It's something I do anyway, without Significant Dates as inspiration. Could Kennedy have gotten us out of Vietnam before the war did so much damage here in America? What would America be like today if the Watergate scandal had never occured? Under Kennedy, would there have been another Cuban missile crisis, one that led to WWIII? Would President Kennedy's extramarital affairs have become public? And so and on and on. In other universes, these questions were answered, I'm sure.
Here, now, I can only mourn an age when we still allowed ourselves to believe that "great men" might exist.
I need to get back to work. I'm done with Murder of Angels for now (Jennifer's proofing it before it goes to John Morgan at Berkeley) and the "Mercury" chapbook cover is done and it's past time to begin the novella for Subterranean Press. I am without an idea, or beset by too many ideas, most requiring months of research, months that I can't spare, if I am to do them the right way. Regardless, I'm getting that particular anxiety I get when it's been too long since last I actually wrote. I finished "Mercury" on October 30th, almost a month ago now. So, it's time to write again.
But write what? That's the question. That's always the frelling question.
Derek cf. Pegritz (of Nyarlathotep) and I are discussing possibly doing a "soundtrack" for Low Red Moon. No details yet, really. Subterranean Press is interested. This time I think I might actually sing on the disc, so that would be interesting. I know Derek and crew would do an amazing job. It's really just a matter of time (as in whether or not all parties involved have the time).
Last night, we had superb burritos from Raging Burrito in Ansley, then Spooky and I spent much of the rest of the evening kicking each others asses on PS2, playing Tenchu: Wrath on Heaven. After a while, she went to download songs and I switched to Star Wars: Starfighter. It did occur to me that I could have spent that time reading the collected works of Tolstoy, but there you go.
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