Sol Solet (Solstice 2023). This will have to do as both the customary Solstice greetings and the 11th Ash Memorial. I’m too cold and pooped and dispirited for discrete productions. Have a good one. Ash, I still miss you but no longer mourn you. Perhaps you’re lucky that you’re missing the colossal amount of crap we’ve been getting in these past 11 years. More power to your emancipated particles, me old china! XXX

Organized Chaos. Unhappy Anniversaries. (A little bit late but as the saying goes…)
There’s chaos and then there’s chaos. There’s one kind of chaos that brings release and joy and renewal. The chaos They bring, unfailingly brings mindless, gratuitous destruction, all-round misery and moronic decay. And dreadfully predictable (perchance prearranged?) consequences. What’s worse, it’s hailed by some as progress. Oh, well. Let’s Beckett on best we can, shall we…

Merry Obituary. aka. Speaking Ill of the Dead
Sometimes life is sweet. And sometimes it’s extra sweet. This past few days for example. Not only we’ve had a couple of high-end politicians giving a diplomatic finger of sorts to that asshole Netanyahu -and in these days of craven subservience a modest, suave finger counts for a hell of a lot- but my Über Bête Noire, that deranged mass exterminator, demented politicians-whisperer, granddaddy of RealCrapPolitik, Henry Kissinger has finally kicked the bucket. And as the two Non-Euclidean dancing damsels say, not a fucking minute too soon. Of course don Pedrito and the Belgian guy’s gestures will have no great consequences other than irritate the living shits out of the ghastly N-Creature, but as the Spaniards say, Menos da una piedra. And of course, Horrid Henry leaves behind not only a long string of acolytes, apprentices, chelas, worshippers and sundry cloned whatnots, but a “Kissinger Institute on China and the Unites States”… Bumba have mercy… (Not to mention a galactic sized lorry-load of curses from every corner of the planet and the beyond-deplorable memory of numberless dead Chileans, East Timorese, Laotians, Cambodians…you name it.) So, well done don Pedrito and meeir De Croo, and mauvais voyage to you, Dirty Harry. May you rot in a specially tailored Hell. And don’t give me any of that “don’t speak ill of the dead” putrid pieties, please. 🙂