Charlie for now: Blog

Happy Thanksgiving to SOL in general, but on my IRL list to be thankful for are the people who make and let this happen, and the readers who let me share my fantasies and memories. I am very thankful to the people who let me know my stories have touched them, whether in a positive or negative light, and especially the person that helps make them better, Pixel the Cat. I give thanks for and to you all.

Love, Charlie, for now, at least.

Two weeks after a religious experience, I find there is no goddess. 18 September, The Dome at the Americas Center, the former home of the St. Louis Rams, was the location. She performed extravagantly. I was mesmerized. Chills ran several times, and I was on the verge of emotional peak several times, eyes wet, experiencing tumultuous feelings pressed on by bass booms and a beautiful voice. The set was high tech, over the top, grand, and all encompassing. An amazing time.

Then today I find she opened her mouth about politics, and the fourteen-year love affair with my muse crashed into pieces on the concrete. The beautiful crystal figurine of my imagination, now ugly broken glass shards on the floor. I hope I can still write after this. I truly do, but she and her music have been driving forces behind my creativity, and my life, and I really don't know what I'll do.

If you are wondering why this has an impact, just think of your hero and everything you like about them, then finding that they are in fact, the opposite. All of what you admire about the person, not the performance, but the person, was wrong. Maybe that Elvis was gay, Alanis Morrissette wasn't, JJ Watt kills puppies, use your own example, but it would bother you. A lot.

No, no more goddess. Just another entertainer with more dollars than sense. She could have kept her reputation and her political feelings to herself like she had the last ten, almost eleven, of her adult years, and those of her fans that love her music and admire her for NOT being a Social Justice Warrior could have gone on with their fantasies. That's all it was anyway. POP! Another balloon goes in the trash.

I'm sorry for venting here, but I have no other outlet save the street corner, and it's raining. Maybe later.

I'm posting the title mini-tome as I write this. Please don't take the title too seriously. It's just a lark. I know I'll get push back on this, but please, I don't presume to be perfect at anything, much less and especially writing. It was just a fun idea. If not for the labors of one Pixel the Cat, you wouldn't be able to read it anyway. Thank you, sir, again, for what you do.

Pixel the Cat, amazing person and editor that he is, went through my story The Upgrade with a red pen, sending it back bloody, (As he always does) but a much easier to read fairy tale, complete with mentions of frogs. It now looks to be written in a form of the English language and not my chicken scratch. I have re posted it, in its entirety. Partake if you wish.

Thanks go to Pixel the Cat, and those who read my work.

Pixel the Cat, Editor Extraordinaire, has been very generous with his time and talent, helping me make Colin and Colleen more readable, if you should choose to give it a look see.

Also, thank you to the Hate Bomber that selected the missing ONE rating vote we were waiting for on Fancy Francie. That fills the hate quota. Without you, the spot would have gone unused. Thanks again.

Thank you all, almost, for your support!