infra dignitatem

I am not spending much time online anymore.
As of January 17th I am late of the hellmouth that is Louisville, and currently reside in Laconia, Indiana. It is the house of my younger sister, and we have accomplished thousands of dollars worth of work to prepare the property for sale. Well, the bank is trying to foreclose, though they are also pushing for a short-sell. Either way, she is losing the place, but we hope to have a few more weeks, maybe even months, before any of the redtape can ravel itself. It has been nice though, in a town with a population of 30 or so. We have no internet, no cable, resulting in plenitudes of peace and quiet, allowing us to make up for lost time. She is recovering from both Meningitis and Lyme Disease, which might well take some years. She is without insurance now, but her doctors will not allow her to work. She deserves none of this, so, I am doing the big brother thing.
While I could probably find means to work online more, I actually prefer not to. More opportunities for print work present themselves every week, but this quieter time means more to me now than reviewing mediocrity or interviewing vanity or even proofreading anyone else's godawful script. I do enjoy the irony of every other hapless hack's willingness to lie, cheat and steal in order to get their pitches read, while I have never submitted anything anywhere. And strangely, in this silence are increasing requests for my words. But non serviam.
So, as days are spent reading and writing for myself, exercising my culinary muscles and watching movies with my sister, the two of us roadtripping through great lengths of Kentucky and Indiana, I am knowing degrees of calmness that have resisted my attention for too many years.
And regarding my reading list, I finished L. Sprague DeCamp's merciless Lovecraft: A Biography. I read Bram Stoker's Dracula and thumbed through the Complete Idiot's Guide To Freemasons. I was inspired by Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, and then read Aldous Huxley's Brave New World and Brave New World Revisited back to back. And now am rereading Roger Zelazny's Lord Of Light.
Wherefore now? I will have one final review set to go up here on the sixth, for a great book from a great friend of mine. I have three interviews finished or nigh finished, which will need to remain in limbo for the time being, but I have canceled other pending interviews, and am no longer accepting requests for any of it. I do not mean to imply that I think myself god's gift, but perhaps if more folks knew how to compose a review, knew how to conduct an interview, then perhaps I would not garner these insane levels of feedback. And comic book journalism in general is now really just such a predictable game, like watching slow-motion footage of a car wreck. On repeat. I have said before that I equate contributing to society with what Alcoholics Anonymous refers to as enabling, and this view only grows with time. As much as I love creative industries, the shocking number of poisonous personalities I have crossed paths with have taken their toll. I can and shall oppose your drama by completely negating your very existence. In stead of being made to feel like a big fish in a small pool, I would rather slither up on shore. I will not make money for you. I will not support your mediocrity.
Persons capable of communicating by letters or business calls know what my print output will be over the many many months to come. Some projects are collaborations with old friends, but I do things my way. I have never asked others for assistance in anyway, creatively or professionally, and I am no longer offering my assistance to others.
A has always been and always will remain, A.

Virtus junxit, mors non separabit.