Small Notes on the Vast Unpleasantness
Christ, another Veterans Day. I've said what I have to say on the subject: On Veterans Day: Fuck that Shit. I just looked it over and see nothing that requires alteration. I could probably add more four-letter words; the subject, and the related common cultural attitudes, certainly deserve them. You might also want to read this post, especially for its discussion of Pat Barker's exceptionally fine World War I novel, The Ghost Road.
With regard to horrors of a far less significant kind (although they nonetheless loom quite large in my small, battered corner of the world): I'm afraid the small financial cushion that generous readers enabled me to enjoy for a short while is now seriously depleted. I would be most grateful for any donation you might be able to make. That is particularly true since Cyrano, my beloved companion who turned 15 last August, needs to take a trip to the vet. (He insists he doesn't, but he does.) He seems basically okay, but he's old now, and he should be carefully examined. At the moment, I simply can't afford it, which makes me a rather horrible and irresponsible human being.
PayPal is still okay to use, although I will continue to withdraw funds as quickly as I can (and usually almost immediately after they appear there). The tax crap goes on, and the ultimate outcome remains some distance away and uncertain in its outline. If you prefer to mail a donation to me, that is fine too, of course. (If you would like my address, please write me at: arthur4801 at yahoo dot com .)
I'm working on several new essays at the moment and hope to publish at least one of them within the next several days. Many thanks for your consideration, as always. Cyrano and Sasha say thanks, as well. (Actually, they're both snoozing after the great exertions of eating breakfast. They half-opened their eyes and nodded very slightly, as if to say, "Yeah, thanks, whatever." But in person, they're wonderfully affectionate. They took turns curled up in my arms last night, as they do most nights.)
With regard to horrors of a far less significant kind (although they nonetheless loom quite large in my small, battered corner of the world): I'm afraid the small financial cushion that generous readers enabled me to enjoy for a short while is now seriously depleted. I would be most grateful for any donation you might be able to make. That is particularly true since Cyrano, my beloved companion who turned 15 last August, needs to take a trip to the vet. (He insists he doesn't, but he does.) He seems basically okay, but he's old now, and he should be carefully examined. At the moment, I simply can't afford it, which makes me a rather horrible and irresponsible human being.
PayPal is still okay to use, although I will continue to withdraw funds as quickly as I can (and usually almost immediately after they appear there). The tax crap goes on, and the ultimate outcome remains some distance away and uncertain in its outline. If you prefer to mail a donation to me, that is fine too, of course. (If you would like my address, please write me at: arthur4801 at yahoo dot com .)
I'm working on several new essays at the moment and hope to publish at least one of them within the next several days. Many thanks for your consideration, as always. Cyrano and Sasha say thanks, as well. (Actually, they're both snoozing after the great exertions of eating breakfast. They half-opened their eyes and nodded very slightly, as if to say, "Yeah, thanks, whatever." But in person, they're wonderfully affectionate. They took turns curled up in my arms last night, as they do most nights.)
posted by Arthur Silber at 6:31 AM
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