I take issue
with most of the writings of Saint Paul; still, there are still a few verses of
his work that speak to me. This is good-bye.
I believe that
science fiction is vital. Speculative fiction gives me the chills. What’s passed
off as acceptable because it takes place in a fantasy world scares me
sometimes, delights me at others. The works of Charles DeLint, Robin McKinley,
Marion Zimmer Bradley move me. Comic books and video games shape how people
think, or sometimes, serve as a convenient excuse to not think. Science fiction
flicks are some of the few films I have the patience to sit through anymore.
A year and a
half ago, I asked to write a regular column for Heartless Bitches
International, agreeing to a column a month. I never conceived that my life
would change so radically, that I would change, to the point where I could no
longer do it.
I’m weeding
out my comic collection. You’d be amazed at what I’ve cumulated, and at how
little I care about most of it. So it’s off to the auction block, and I’m off
to Zanzibar on the funds. I’ve quit my tabletop game, but my tomatoes are
thriving. I enjoyed Serenity and Batman Begins and Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince, and I recommend The Wee Free Men to anyone who will
listen, but I don’t go online and post about any of those things.
In fact, I
don’t have time to go online anymore, check my e-mail (except for at work), or
to care when the old alarmist “Fans is short for fanatic!” grind gets printed
in the paper. It doesn’t bother me as much as say, President Bush changing the
requirements of H.E.W.
This is my
end.
