Wednesday, April 16, 2025

March 2025


March.
March. March.

In March we began marching.
Baby steps at first.
Small circles with little signs.

March.
March. March.
March. March. March.

"Are you here, too?"
"Isn't it terrible?"
"I wish there was more we could do."

March.
March. March.
March. March. March.
March. March. March. March.

By the time April arrived
We looked around,
Realized that we were strong,
And began planning to get stronger.

March.
March. March.
March. March. March.
March. March. March. March.
March. March. March. March. March.

But it began with baby steps.

March.
March. March.
March. March. March.
March. March. March. March.
March. March. March. March. March. 
March. March. March. March. March. March.
March. March. March. March. March. March. March....

--John Magee

Thursday, March 20, 2025

You Like to Think You Could Do Better


You Like to Think You Could Do Better

You like to think you would have done as well,
Maybe even better.

You give thanks that you will never find yourself
In such dark times.

Then your times change, despite your efforts.

So you try to do better,
Or at least as well.

And you come to realize
That all you might be accomplishing
Is to make sure the yellow stars
To be pinned to chests
Are at least as pretty as possible.

You like to think you could do better.

--John Magee

Friday, January 31, 2025

January 2025




January 2025

 

It is January.

It has always been January.

It will always be January.

 

Now is the January of our discontent.

Made wintry by soul devoid.

 

It is January and Los Angeles burns.

It is January and it snows in Pensacola.

 

It is January and the news is flailing.

It is January and the news is failing.

It is January and the news is ailing.

It is January and the news is news no more.

 

Once more unto the ice, dear friends.

We close the month with our frozen dead,

Buried in slush beneath a river of lies.

 

It is January.

It has always been January.

It will always be January.

 

Even when February comes,

It will always be January.

We will always remember January 2025.

 

--John A. Magee


Monday, January 20, 2025

What I Plan to Do with My Next Four Years

I have very few illusions about how the next four years are going to go. As a nation we are recklessly plunging towards disaster. I hope I'm wrong. 

I've spent a fair bit of time over the last couple of months thinking about what I intend to do about it all. [Waves arms hopelessly in every direction.] 

The first thing is I'm going to start giving myself a bit more credit about how hard I'm trying at my job. I don't write or talk about my job a lot -- yes, this is probably why I'm afraid to watch the show "Severance" -- but I work with a bunch of people to make it easier to find good, truthful, accurate information in online library databases. If I do my job well, it becomes easier for good information to crowd out misinformation, and good information needs all the help it can get these days.

Still, these days in the Age of Misinformation it feels as if I'm one of those Japanese soldiers defending his foxhole on a remote atoll while the war has swept past him. So I'll also spend some time looking for a better opportunity to help good information.

Second, I'm going to keep an eye out for opportunities to help where I can be my most effective. It's easy to despair when it seems all about us is burning. It's impossible to fight everything. So pick one thing that you can do, then do your best at it. Then when you're done, rest up, find another thing then do your best at that. No single one of us got us to this place. No single one of us can get us out of this mess. But if all of us do just one thing to move the ball in the right direction, things will improve.

Along those lines I picked a few groups I like that will be extra busy over the next four years and sent them a little donation today: the ACLU, the Sierra Club, and Amnesty International. It made me feel better about things. I recommend it.

Third, we're headed into four years of meanness for meanness sake and performative cruelty. I'm going to do my best to fight back with beauty and joy and humor. When I say that my plan is to fight fascism with pretty pictures, I mean it. Fascism feeds on hopelessness. Beauty feeds hope. I intend to do my little part to feed hope.

Over on Bluesky the artist Jay Bigam (@jayispainting.earthskyart.ca) -- who created the wonderful #ArtAdventCalendar movement -- recommended that today be a day to post #OnlyBeautifulThings online.

I like that notion. So I leave you with a pretty picture.

Hang in there, everybody. Try not to let hopelessness get the upper hand.



Friday, December 20, 2024

Farewell, 2024

Normally I put together a little year-end poem for my final out-of-office message at work. This year all I could muster up for 2024 was a haiku:

Twenty Twenty-Four,
A kidneystone of a year.
Farewell. Good riddance.

That seems a bit depressing, so we'll see if I come up with something else before 5 pm. What I'd like to remember of 2024 is that we welcomed Benny Beagle into our home, we saw a cool solar eclipse and several amazing nights of aurora, we built a new porch and deck, and that Monique and I have made it to the wrapup of this year a little the worse for wear, but still here and still in love with each other.

I live a blessed life and I'm keenly aware of it -- even in the midst of a day-by-day disaster like 2024.

I'm also a usually a pretty optimistic fellow, but it seems likely to me that we're all headed into rough waters in 2025. I'm going to give some more thought over the next couple of weeks to just what I want to do in 2025. I haven't felt very effective in recent years. I've mostly felt exhausted. But perhaps I can find a useful place to put my shoulder to the wheel and find an effective way make things a little better at some level in the world. 

For now I'm trying to combat it all with pretty pictures. Here, have one of my favorites from 2024!


That might not seem very effective, but in an online world filled with possibly even more horror and anger than we see in the real world, some beauty to balance the scales can't hurt. 

I've thought about dipping my toe back into politics. I've been pretty good at fixing things and building things in politics, but it seems to me that the next four years may call for constant full-volume screaming into the void. I could do that, but I'm not sure it would change anything and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like who I'd become by the end of four years of that.

I might try going back to some writing in 2025. Time flies and it's been quite a while since I've written any fiction. The last sustained push was a couple of decades ago when I wrote a few short stories set in a near-future dystopia. I set it aside for a variety of reasons. One of those reasons was that it was a fairly depressing world to live in. Now that I find myself actually living in a near-future dystopia, maybe it's time to revisit it. (I wasn't entirely prescient. I thought it would take at least fifty more years to get to where we are now.) I'm not sure another run at science-fiction is in my future. But I might like to tackle something. We shall see. I fear it might devolve into what I mentioned above about politics: four years of shouting loudly into the void to no effect.

Hmmn ... time for another pretty picture:


Or I might try something else altogether. Whatever it is, I think my way of dealing with 2025 and beyond is going to be building something for the future, whatever it may be. For a long time now it has felt as if life has me on the run, ground down and trying to hold on to what I've got. That hasn't felt all that good lately. It's time to try something new.

Whatever you might be thinking of doing with your 2025, I wish you all the best with it!

Here, have another pretty picture: 






Sunday, November 10, 2024

Mood Melancholy - November 2024

 It's been a rough 12 months for me and Monique, full of disease and death and setbacks and sorrow. We are ground down. Tuesday's election results were a perfect capper.

Early on in the Biden Administration -- henceforth known as the Second Weimar Republic -- I remember saying a couple of things. The first was that it drove me crazy that he was having these remarkable policy and legislative achievements, but was utterly unable to communicate those successes to the American people. The second came as they repeatedly failed to deal swiftly and harshly with an armed insurrection and Trump's attempt to overthrow the American government:

"Feckless Democrats and fascist Republicans will be the ruination of us all," I said, donning the mantle of the Cassandra of the early 2020s.

The feckless Democrats have done their part. Now the fascist Republicans have center stage to themselves.

This was the first time I wasn't directly involved in a campaign since the 2000 election shortly after I moved to Michigan. The reasons were mostly entirely unrelated to the election itself, but I hesitate to offer up a post-mortem for Tuesday's Democratic disaster because I hate to be the guy sitting out on the side pointing out what the players did wrong. However, a fair number of people have asked me for my two cents, so here it is:

Several big lies repeated loudly again and again over four years beat out a thousand small truths mumbled incoherently over the same period.

It would be easy to blame Kamala Harris for that, since it was her name on the ballot. But it feels to me as if these results were baked in before she ever took the lead on the ticket. Had she not run a very strong campaign for her hundred days as candidate this could've been an even bigger disaster for the Democrats. Thanks, Kamala. I appreciate the effort.

Joe Biden was a great Senator and a master of the inside game in Washington. But for all that I admire Biden's accomplishments in his first two years, he also failed to communicate those accomplishments effectively. And it constantly felt as if he failed to understand the moment. He kept trying to negotiate with the GOP of forty years ago but never understood that he was getting clobbered in a back alley of the Age of Misinformation.

"We're the American people," he liked to say after some outbreak of general crappiness. "We're better than that."

"No, Joe," I would think wearily. "I've studied a lot of American history and on average we are not better than that. Not unless we are exceptionally well led."

So what next? I don't know. Our best hope for the next few months is the sheer demonstrated incompetence of Trump and his hangers-on and yes-men. But too many of the worst people have been planning the worst things to give me much hope that we'll be as lucky as we were the first time around. 

I doubt I'm entirely done with campaigning, but I'm not sure if I'll be ready to come back off the sidelines in 2026 or not. As with 2024, it would mostly be for reasons not related to the election itself.

If I was in charge of Democratic Party messaging for the next four years -- and nobody is knocking down my door asking me to take the gig -- I'd pick two or three brutal truths and shout them again and again and again. And again and again and again. And again and again and again. 

Sadly, I belong to a political party that failed to have the stones to deal effectively with the aftermath of an armed insurrection. I doubt genuine messaging discipline will suddenly appear in our bag of skills.

If anybody cares enough to buy me lunch, I'll tell you my nominees for the brutal truths we should be telling again and again and again. But there'll be no lack of terrible things that the Republican Party will do in the next few years. The problem will be picking just two or three. But the real problem is that the Democratic Party never found a truth it couldn't bury under a nuanced 23-point policy statement.

In the meantime there will be plenty of calls to storm the ramparts in protest of whatever's happening. I'll be more inclined to heed them if the elected Democrats still in office look as if they are finally battling on our behalf. For the last four years it has felt as if they were more interested in fundraising off the rising tide of fascism than in actually defeating it. I'm going to need to see something effective out of some of them before they see another dime out of me.

The institutionalists and technocrats have failed us. It's time for a wartime consigliari to take charge.

All in all, not a very cheerful blog post. But it's not a cheerful time. The grey November rains outside  my window match my mood melancholy.

Winter is often a time for rest and recovery. Our new year starts around the winter solstice for good reason. I'm planning some rest and recovery for myself this winter. I wish you all the same.






Monday, September 23, 2024

The Revised Patioboater Guide to the 2024 Presidential Election

Up is down! Down is up! Higgledy Piggledy all around!

Like a lot of folks, I'm relieved that Biden decided to step down after all. I suspect his Presidency is going to age well. He accomplished a ton of things in a short period. 

Since nobody reads this blog anymore this is mostly for myself, but I'd like to go on this bloggy record as predicting a narrow Harris win in November, followed by two months of dirty tricks and lies. I haven't really looked at the Congressional races, but I'd like to think there might be enough momentum to push both houses back to the Dems. We shall see.

I also predict a very bumpy ride for these final six weeks. 

Maybe, just maybe if Harris and the Dems win the GOP will take a look at itself and what is has become and step back from the abyss. I doubt it though. The alternative right-win information environment that a majority of Republicans live in these days is just too toxic. A crushing defeat at the polls might lead the toxicity merchants to step back a bit. But a narrow defeat is likely to just encourage them to double down on toxicity and disinformation. Woe betide us all in 2026, 2028, and beyond.

In any event, good luck Kamala! I'm afraid you're going to need it.