I’m angry that I must wear a mask because so many people in this country are cultists of the most benighted sort; swilling down the anti-vax Kool-Aid. To make myself feel better, here’s a rant and a book recommendation.

Don’t know about you, but my impending sense of doom is … impending again. There have been the months here and there when it seemed that my ‘three horsemen of the apocalypse’ had unsaddled … letting the rest of us get a good night’s sleep…no such luck.

 I keep referring to my three doom-bringers as covid, climate and Nazis, but it’s a little more complicated than that: It means pandemics of ill health stemming from the crap in our air and soil and water (and the reality of healthcare being just one more capitalist enterprise); it means that we obsessively-consuming humans have managed to force  the earth into terminal decline; it means the uglier sentiments of populism all over the world—most obvious to us in the cult-of-trump—but it’s rising wherever there are white men longing for a mythical past of unchecked control. Truthfully though, there are equally deadly systems of inhumanity in countries with leaders of every race, culture, ethnicity, religion…wherever men (mostly men) are greedy, frightened; lack knowledge and morals. There…my rant for the week is done. I don’t really feel any better unfortunately…still doomish.

Now for the book review. Notes from an Apocalypse by Mark O’Connell.  I am only about a third of the way in, but I so very highly recommend this book. First of all, O’Connell has a wry, self-depreciating, and … how to describe it … smart-while-silly sense of humor. He’s an Irishman which may explain this irreverent and dark perspective on the state of the world. Notes… is a look at some forms of end-of-the-worldism or, stated more elegantly, civilizational collapse; I’m only through the ‘preppers’ and into ‘luxury survivalists’ but it was a perfect way to spend a semi-sleepless night. Really. Don’t know about you, but when I can’t sleep, I think of what awful things could happen to my family, or how and when I’ll die, or whether the world can survive any of my three-horsemen scenarios, and other unhappy thoughts. So I may as well be reading about end-times—personal and global—as considered by a curious, thoughtful, and oh-so funny guy.  Who knew the ‘apocalypse’ could lull me to sleep with a smile.

A new day. Busy. Perhaps I’ll sleep tonight.


  1. My son Mark sends me messages from Calm. Here is my favorite. Pooh and Piglet are walking in the woods. Piglet: what if a tree falls down ans lands on it and kills us? Pooh: what if it doesn’t? Helps my anxiety sometimes.

    Sent from my iPhone



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