Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Acheronta Movebo. Sorry Princess, Latin Says It Better Without The Translation

I have been up pretty much as long as I normally to tell you the truth.

Got up a little after 5 to get the Elder Duck ready to do the things he needs to do (that means I am the dad that gets him up early so he can play video games before giving up my room all day for him to go to school) and then, normally, even if I don’t fall asleep, I lay in bed for a few hours and gradually acclimate myself to the soul-shattering fact that I need to go a whole day and not be asleep. Sometimes little dude comes up and crashes with me for a bit, which is adorable as it sounds of course.

That was the plan this morning when the power went out.

Now, there isn’t a real reason I couldn’t have stayed in bed, my bedroom is not only cold because I like it that way, but it is also the only room in the house that gets absolutely no direct sunlight into the bedroom proper. It stays cool in there even on the hottest of days, which we are definitely at yet to be sure.

No, the reason I couldn’t stay in there, other than the little squirming child next to me who was bored all of a sudden, was because there was absolutely no noise. I can’t go with absolutely no noise. It freaks the shit out of me and I just don’t do perfectly normal and quiet. Hence the sound machine, the fan when there was one in there, the air conditioner, the diurnal things I listen to. I can’t be absolute silence, it brings up memories of things that I don’t want to have memories of and, regardless of the skills I have learned, it always flips that particular switch.

So I am tired.

Know what else I am?

Soul-crushingly fucking tired.

I don’t have any of the spoons and fucks anymore. There are too many squirrels in my head and I am not going to last much longer if I don’t do anything about it.

So here is what I am going to do.

First, this will be the last thing in here for a bit. Feeling guilty over not writing things that I like to write is idiotic and I refuse to continue on that particular pathway.

Secondly, I love you.

Thirdly, let’s hope this ends sooner rather than later. I do not do myself or any of my people favors when I fo into hermit mode, and I am feeling a pretty strong itch to lay in a quasi-comatose state for 19-23 hours a day with occasional breaks for the food and the bathroom. We all remember what happened the last time I got stupid like that.

So if you know me, text me. If I don’t answer, I probably still think you are awesome?

The title says it all, let’s just hope we can do the former before the latter, yes?


A Little Later In The Morning We Find Our Main Character Doing The Same Thing He Had Done Hours Before, Just With More Background Noise To Add Dice To His Sanity Check.

A few hours, a weird nap, a diaper change for the little guy and a lot of 90’s trance music later, I return fresh and caffeinated with a thought of something interesting.

Seeing as my kind apparently goes to a school that defies gubernatorial orders and is off next week, in addition to being able to write more things it has just occurred to my minuscule piece of gray matter than I will be able to at least attempt to sleep threefold as long as I am now. I probably won’t succeed, but that isn’t the point is it? The effort put into the thing counts. If I can even lay there awake and gt my brain focused that cuts down on all kinds of pain later int he day when I am foggy and out of sorts and the like. While not El Dorado, it is a pretty decent boon nonetheless.

I am going to immediately, upon conclusion of this, add to the series I have started, namely The Card and The Leader with at least one one-off story thrown in there because my brain doesn’t feel like a pool of mushy goo right now and I can express the innermost desires of my Id to the world in the form of badly contrived and barely concealed metaphorical stories.

Or something like that at least.

So, I am sitting here listening to some heavy techno music. Why? It is easily available on Spotify and repeat is my friend when I want to do the writing things and, importantly, it drowns out the bad choice of buying my Elder Duck Call Of Duty because he has, truly, been awesome the last few weeks during all of this. I am not worried about the differentiating thing some parents think about or the evil bad bad others do. Nope, it is just fucking loud as hell so I just need to make my music louder which, in case any of you have forgotten, techno will always win at.

I have a little dude neatly curled into a serpentine ball at my feet staring at the Universe and happily doing nothing at all, poised to strike in an instant the moment coffee is needed and he can tail me and “help” me with the said procedure. The variant of help he provides is counting, meticulously, the amount of anything and everything I can possibly do while I am in the kitchen. I must admit when I am in there with him and I don’t hear certain numbers I actually question and see if I have done all the steps I am supposed to have done to make said coffee in the most palatable and delicious ways.

The rest of the house, and in fact most likely a decent chunk of the Eastern Seaboard, lay in sleep still. The traffic flows interrupted by the pandemic and the cycle of noise around the entire globe awkwardly skipping a beat these last few weeks and the next few months to come. I suppose the hippie in me is happy that we are dumping less of this, that and the other thing into the oceans or into the air, but there is also the pragmatic part of me who wonders all sorts of things about economic backlash and the inevitability of depression-like measures.

However, I shall not let that cloud over my day. I have my babies with me, we are all healthy and at this point, nothing is more important than that single fact.

Stay safe, #StayTheFuckAtHome.

The Mind Of An Introvert In Consensual, Non-Consensual, Social Isolation – Day The Monday

Monday, right?

I am pretty sure it is Monday because I had to wake the Elder Duck up so he could do the remote school thing and be the smart one in the family and go on to do great things, most likely in Astrophysics, at least that is the interest at the moment. I am so proud of him. All AP classes next year, that is including the extra one he actually asked to be in. I am not stupid, but that boy will always put me to shame. I think that is the right way though, the next generation smarter than the last, trying to solve the problems the generations before caused, making their own mistakes for their successors to solve and so on.

Today it is List25 day on YouTube. I mean, it is better than the Super Mario Maker he was watching and a lot more interesting, to him, than the blacksmithing videos I have been hooked on the last few days. I think it was a bad idea to start the day with torture devices, but hey, we all make mistakes right? He loves them and, more importantly, it keeps him enthralled for hours at a time, a thing that is more important now than ever. I will take him outside later if it stops raining, social distancing does not mean stay in your house, just a walk, even if it is around the backyard, let the kid feel the wind on his face for a few minutes if nothing else. I should do the same thing with Connorface, hell it would be easier with his wheelchair anyway actually.

I am going to do this today. Write a blog post, then a story thing, then maybe rinse and repeat. I want to get some things out of my head anyway.

That brings me to a thing.

I love all of you who are concerned about me. I do. I am not a self-harm guy, not anymore. I can promise all sorts of things and I know the score on that. I will just assure you the best way I can that I am simply overtired of a lot of things and I will adjust, I always have and I always will. I don’t handle rapid change particularly well and given the ever-evolving situation we are in presently, I think a little panic and worry is normal if not particularly desirable. I am taking all of the medications I am supposed to, I am eating and drinking and doing as much self-care as I can when I have the Ducks to worry about twenty-four hours a day. I am not critiquing people for their worry, I am just trying to tell you that I am, while not fine, not in that much of the Dark as some of you think I am and if I do get to that place I know what I need to do to get myself out by myself, or, in the worst case, who to call if I cannot.

Now I am going to sit here and listen to War Child by Hollywood Undead, get my brain in storytime mode for a little later. Maybe have another cup of coffee, a little bit of food and see where the day takes me in its ever-spiraling complexity.

I love you all, I do.


An Abundance Of Caution

An Abundance of Caution.

I have come to hate that turn of phrase in the last forty-eight hours. I hate how it is neatly hypocritical and perfectly correct in the same way. I hate how no matter what, it always cuts you like a knife even as you try to hold it against you as a shield.

Let me back up a bit.

My two littlest ducks are what are considered high-risk and medically fragile by various health authorities who are, admittedly, far smarter than me. Their issues dictate that they are placed in these categories for their own good and that by being in these categories, they are theoretically safer because of the protections offered them.

I am grateful for these measures and I am by no means complaining that they are in these particular groupings in the slightest. Let me make sure that is understood. I have no problems with how the various Departments of Health from the local to the national level have assessed and listed them. What I have a problem with is what I, Me, James, Bear, Myself, cannot do that they can.

My Elder Duck’s school just transitioned to home-based learning effective immediately. There were no confirmed or even suspected cases of COVID-19 at his school. They did this out of, as you probably guessed by now, An Abundance of Caution. I respect, applaud and wholeheartedly approve of this measure and any other move that will keep my babies as healthy and safe as possible.

In the wisdom afforded them by the Goddess, the county I live in has decided now to close the school districts, including the largest of them, which my ducks are all enrolled in. I watched a news conference where a man sat for about an hour and effectively said the same thing over and over again using slightly different forms of emphasis on the words he was speaking. I counted, and I started long after he did, fifty-three instances where he used the words “Department Of Health”. Now while I agree that the schools should not unilaterally decide to close whenever they want to in a situation like this, when entire states, ENTIRE STATES, are closing their schools, perhaps they could, they being the Council of Superintendents and the aforementioned Department of Health, could look a little farther afield to seek the answers that I cannot imagine are easy to ascertain in a situation such as this.

Now we come to my dilemma.

Legally, in the state I live in, there is no legal recourse for me to keep my children home out of an abundance of caution. There is no way that I can do this without falling into the category of a neglectful parent and possibly have all sorts of authorities at my doorstep within, literally, hours of me making this particular decision.

I understand it is important for children to go to school. I also understand that purposely holding them out of school is a form of neglect.

However, what I do not understand is why I cannot use my rights as a parent to keep my children home in the face of a pandemic. Especially when the Dump-Truck scouring Cheeto-Faced-Shit-Gibbon who runs my particular country seems to be okay with people below a certain income stratum dying because they cannot afford the insane prices for the tests that will tell them if they have this thing, never mind the costs of all of the things that are associated with the actuality of contracting it.

I will follow the local, state, and federal laws because losing my children to any of those entities a thing that simply will not happen. I just needed to say words and get this all of my chest.


Let’s Chat, Shall We?

There are a lot of buttons you can push on me and I will get angry nearly instantaneously. Some of them as trifling as whether the taste of one whiskey is better than the other. I know I need to work on this and I thank the people who bring it to my attention that I am being a pedantic asshole over things. I do.

Then there are the things that are fundamental to who I am as a human being. Those I can not let go.

Most days I would start this by apologizing in advance, trigger warnings, all sorts of things. No. Not now. If you are offended by the things I say and the ways in which I say them, that is on you to resolve, not me. It is not my, or any other human being’s job to control our language to spare your feelings, thoughts, and beliefs a little bump in the hallway.

That being said, let us get the things begun that I wish to begin, yes?

I am a polyamorous person. If you ignore the horrors of the root words incestuous Greek and Latin split root words, you will find it means many and love. In the modern context, it means a lot of things, but to me, it means that I am emotionally and physically capable and desirous of multiple romantic partners, not even necessary sexual mind you, remember that word, sexual, it becomes very important here in a little bit.

I am not greedy, overreaching, a manipulator, a cheater, or any combinations of synonyms that can be attributed to those things. I am OPEN and HONEST in my communication with the partners I have. I do not sneak off to places and have dirty little fucking secrets, literally or metaphorically in this case. The person I am seeing, if they have another partner, they know about me, they might not understand all of it, agree with all of it, or even participate in finding a secondary partner themselves, but they are aware of my existence and my relationship with their partner.

I will not get into the sociological aspect of it, I know I am not educated enough to do so. However, for you Jesus folk, come on over and sit with me a sec, let me tell you a thing.

I don’t care. I haven’t cared about the bible in more years than some of you have been alive and I sure as hell am not going to get lectured by someone who read a meme on a website and thinks they have the moral high ground.

I have already rid my immediate surroundings of most of you, but if I catch you speaking about my children again in any context I will happily go back to prison where I can read for the rest of my life knowing you won’t be able to spout bullshit like a fountain. So you close your mouth about what you don’t understand and I will turn my back and ignore the fact you exist.

NO, I am not saying polyamory is the ONLY way to go. The word CHOOSE is important here, isn’t it? If it is not for you, I will gladly respect that and wish you the best with your one, or even no partner. I am not “converting” people to my cause. I am trying to make people understand that it is MY choice, that’s all.

Let’s keep going, shall we?

You same people who spout on and on about Bible verses you think you know are the same people who tell me that my children wouldn’t have autism if I didn’t vaccinate them.

Of yes, you said precisely that.

Firstly, I will not listen to the “science” you have as it is not only wrong and easily refuted, it is dangerous and life-threatening. Secondly, you read a thing on a blog. Which, I am guessing is where YOU went to get the decade-plus of education that my son’s pediatrician did? You have seen life and death both in your multiple trips to Susan’s Facebook post?

Lastly…Oh yes lastly.

Your logic tells the world that you would rather have a child that is more likely to die incredibly young from preventable diseases than to have them be autistic. In other words, Autism is a fate worse than death in your opinion.

I am not the world’s best father. I know that. I have multiple weak points that I face EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. I love my children more than anything, as a matter of fact, you probably love yours just as much.

The difference is that while I may have two autistic children, I do not see them as you do. I see a smile that will melt your frozen fucking heart in half and a little boy who can sing more gangster rap songs than I can. I see a boy who tries every day to do things doctors keep telling me he can’t and a little dude that loves hugging random people because he knows it makes them fucking happy.

So they should just be dead? They should have been allowed to contract the diseases you and your kind are allowing to come back after being ERADICATED in this country? I should have just, what, shipped them away and tried again? You ignorant and uppity fuck.

This concludes my motherfucking TED Talk.