I was talking to Andrea recently when I mentioned that no one reads my fiction when I post it here. She seemed surprised by that. I’m not sure why. But it may not be so true anymore. Frankly Curious is now a destination for a fair number of people. For whatever reason, they think I should be checked in on. I do hope the NSA is checking on me, because a revolution (of despair) could break out at any moment.
Just as a lark, I went looking through some old notebooks for one of my Nixon puppet plays. But I got sidetracked in reading my thoughts from April 2010. My notebooks have always been a mess of lists, diary, random projects, whatever. Some of the descriptions of my life at that point are heartbreaking. I don’t remember feeling that sad. But mixed in are lots of fragments to my second novel “Treading Asphalt” — which is still fragments. But crammed in the middle of it is the beginning of a short story I had completely forgotten about. I rather like it. I wrote later, “I have no idea what the plot is about.” But it seems pretty clear to me now.
Here it is:
She would be paid fifty dollars for the article. This alone made the ceremony worth missing, but it wasn’t the main reason she wasn’t marching with her colleagues in those stupid dresses — which they made the students pay to rent. The title of her dissertation was, “Four Investigations into Strong Force-Weak Force Interactions in Strong Magnetic Fields at Relativistic Speeds.” It was just four papers she had published that were impressive enough to get her several post-doc opportunities without seeking them out. And she had accepted Dr Ahmed’s offer at UT Austin. But she still hadn’t decided if she would show up. She really didn’t like physics — so soiled as it was by “reality.” She should have gone straight with her strengths — pure math — or her weaknesses — literature. Now she had this ridiculous degree. And it seemed no one would ever again let her do anything fun.
And then, almost without missing a beat, the journal goes back to “Treading Asphalt” — into Brian’s first person description of what is for me, the most creepy part of the book. I think poor Rene would be shocked. But they are joined in being lost souls. But I think I have a happier ending for Rene. For Brian, it will be as it always seems to be for my male characters — the way it is for all of us: a muddle.
Since the rise in the dollar in the late 1990s, the US has had a large trade deficit, which creates a big gap in demand. This gap in demand was filled by a stock bubble at the end of the 1990s and a housing bubble in the last decade. When the housing bubble burst, there was nothing to fill the demand gap created by the trade deficit.
I think that the Supreme Court will find for the government in King v Burwell — the silly case where four words in the Obamacare law are supposed to trump everything else said and implied in the law. I just don’t think that any reasonable person could could find the challenge to be anything but laughable and that is why I think only three justices on the Supreme Court will find for the plaintiffs — because three of the justices of the court are unreasonable (and unreasoning) ideologues. But that’s just what I think. What I know is that I can’t predict what the Supreme Court will do — especially in such politicized cases. Who could have predicted the Supreme Court would decide to take Bush v Gore — much less that it would decide as it did.
We seem to have had a couple of good days this week regarding politics. Of course, a large part of this is due to my greatly reduced expectations. Obama’s
As you may know, I have a special fondness for Geeshie Wiley. She was the young and apparently volatile blues singer who traveled around the south with Elvie Thomas. They are both legends — in both senses of the word. I wrote about them in some depth last year,
On this day in 1607, the first permanent English settlement in “the new world” was started in