Yesterday we were notified that the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers will not grant the easement to cross Lake Oahe for the Dakota Access pipeline. Instead, they will prepare an Environmental Impact Stat
Well, about three years and a field of poppies later, the combined efforts of a zillion scholars have arrived on my desk in a physical manifestation of printed paper, green bindings, and a snappy lit
So what is it with New Mexico green chilis? Is it something in the soil? Something in the dusty valleys scorched by the desert sun where even lizards fear to crawl and only the toughest, gnarliest lif
It’s strange to think about the fun-fest of Readercon — which it always turns out to be — as a hotbed of controversy where ripples of fallout will radiate outward for weeks and months after the event. On the other hand, science fiction fandom is a sort of canary in the coal mine of society at large. The feuds and alignments and banishments and rapprochements that swirl around fandom, punctuated by mass scrimmage events (also known as cons), are now inextricably linked to the culture wars raging around us. It wasn’t always this way. Long ago, in never never land, cons were communal freak-outs held by like-minded escapists as a sort of exhibitionist rebellion against the bleakness of mundane culture. A con was where your propellor beanie, flowing cape, Vulcan ears, and purple velvet bag-of-holding concealing a pint of scumble were perfectly normal, and you were surrounded by fellow fen celebrating the freedom to be weird.
Pondering the depths of guilt and despair, the criminal is led to the scene of a crime. His handlers are not brutal, they too are subdued; as if ashamed themselves, and feeling the general shame of
Yes, it’s towel day! And I wore my official Miffy towel, that I bought at Watsons on Nathan Road in Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong many years ago. It’s a little thread-bare, but when you are roughing i
Just before the New York primary I noticed this sign posted on the Quincy Street billboard in Harvard Yard. This is directly across the street from entrance to the Harvard Art Museum, at the gate b
In another post (about blood moons and werewolves) I had occasion to examine the various cover paintings for Jack Williamson’s great novel, Darker Than You Think. In addition to Edd Cartier’s black
That inertia is the tendency of a body, when cold, to stay cold; and when hot, to stay hot — that during Star-flux when the thin white lines which cross and crisscross the skies of night tremb
It has been a contradictory and confusing year, 2015. At times it has been downright neurotic and malevolent, which I suppose is to be expected from a Year of the Goat! We seem to have gotten farther into the woods, into the darkness,