At this point for me, none of anything they purport to believe or be, can be trusted to be real. So like most whine-blogs on the internet, it’s not worth my attention anymore. I understand that because it had some value for a time, it is difficult to let it go, but none of what made it worth participating remains. None of the truth or truthfulness that was there before remains. It is as worthless as the overly liberal, overly coddling sites I abandoned before because they were too full of nothing helpful or important.

One can waste a lot of time and energy playing social games on the internet…having useless arguments that don’t change anything, and don’t help you to grow. Many people do it, and sometimes it’s a nice way to pass the time when one has nothing better to do at the moment, or needs a break from heavier concerns. The end for me is when it stops being fun at all…when you know you’re just dealing with nasty, bitter people vomiting their bile on the net. I don’t need all that festering, impotent negativity. At least give me some fists raised against oppression that are strong enough not to be turned into “why are you hitting yourself” by the bullies plaguing us all.

Yes, I do write some poetry and short stories. I’m currently working on a science fiction novel based on some dreams I’ve had. For some reason, I have a sort of dream universe in which I will sometimes “wake up” in a body that isn’t my own, sometime in the past, present, or future, sometimes human and sometimes not. In this book, it’s the future, and I’m living on an African planet.

On the side, I’m working on one that is sort of like a Battlestar Galactica with a dark twist.

Over a decade ago, before the idea of human biodiversity was as popular as it is now, I was writing a series about the rise of a subspecies of humans whose compulsion it was basically to kill people who killed innocent people. The elite helped it along until some of them started killing the people who were responsible for the deaths of too many innocent people. They’re not revolutionary, just predatory a certain way, and there was a long and somewhat successful attempt to track and organize them, but it ultimately fails.

Writing fiction isn’t my day job, and I’m not sure I ever want it to be until I’m retired. So look for me on the shelves in 20-30 years.