Any sentence with the word Macaque in it ought to be superfluous, but the main point of this blog is to report the final of the new Tedboro Trilogy (the first installation of The Casebook of Reese Macaque, P.I.).
When amaryllises bloom: a six-bloomer!!
Time’s a funny old dimension of reality, isn’t it? Subjectively I feel as though The Tedboro Trilogy is new writing. I also remember being in a terrible hurry to finish “President Nero’s Golden Palace” in 2017 for fear that the Trump administration would end before I could get the piece finished. I needn’t have worried. “President Nero” has long since been up on Amazon in two individual versions and as part of two sequential draft versions of the trilogy with “Two Terrible Weeks in Tedboro” and “Danger Is My Alibi”.
A green mini amaryllis.
Has it really been three years? I may have overdone the publishing of what was still draft material, back in 2018, 2019 and 2020. Did I honestly think I was a player of some kind, in the discourse over the public scourge of Trumpism? No, of course not. I feel lucky when my sales reach two digits. I am secretly not nearly as vain as those who know me assume I am.
Big pink ones.
If I had published the final version of The Tedboro Trilogy one week sooner, the final version would have been available to readers before the insurrection on January 6 at the U.S. Capitol. I’m not sure why I was trying to deadline myself or why I cared. But “President Nero’s Golden Palace” is very close to events of January 6, 2021 and related events yet to come according to F.B.I. warnings. “Danger Is My Alibi” may be coming to fruition momentarily and we are having the two bad weeks in Tedboro now.
The intimate structure of these giant tropical flowers is amazing.
I seldom feel I have to write topically. I am much fonder of nonsense. I dislike politics and no wonder; public life really does attract the worst of us, over and over.
They sometimes seem sentient.
It’s big, it’s bold, it’s another amaryllis.
The “President Nero” reference is obviously to Trump. Apology is needed for that. Nero built the Domus Aurea. He was a sociopath of dreams, much beloved on his own account, and not merely by a faction of the Senate, though he sometimes embarrassed the cultural elite, for instance by murdering his mother and wives or burning the city. Recorded by history as a psychotic serial killer among other things, he lived a truly fully feral life—which is very rare for intellectuals as well as fun to pronounce—and if all he had to his credit were vices, at least his vices were astonishingly bad.
Trump, on the other hand, seems increasingly dwarfed by his campaign signs. Nero burned his Christians; Trump merely befoozled the ones who were willing to volunteer for it.
Trump, on the other hand, seems increasingly dwarfed by his campaign signs. Nero burned his Christians; Trump merely befoozled the ones who were willing to volunteer for it.
Think I’ll dabble in these seeds, Praise Jesus.
Trump and his followers have exchanged mirrored images. Nature deplores a vacuum. QAnon rushed in to fill the vacant moral space, and QAnon will eat the Trumpists the way Trumpism ate the GOP. Crowds can’t take very much disappointment.
There’s a lot left to see and things will play themselves out, but I look forward to returning to more nonsense and less seriousness as The Casebook of Reese Macaque, P.I. continues.
There’s a lot left to see and things will play themselves out, but I look forward to returning to more nonsense and less seriousness as The Casebook of Reese Macaque, P.I. continues.
The wine of life.
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