In a Shameful Way

I'll go out.  I'll take more pictures, I swear.  A lot of people don't like the new ones as much.  It's O.K. with me.  But I'm not trying hard enough, and that isn't o.k.  It is summer, though, and I am lazy and it is hot and do not want to do much.  I don't want to do anything, really.  Just sit in the a.c. and snuggle and read.  There is nothing to watch on television.  Nothing. 

Last night I was talked into trying some FOX show called "Whispering Pines."  Came with recommendations, I was told.  Total hogwash.  It is the sort of thing I liked when I was thirteen.  It is a sort of "Coronet Blue" combined with "The Prisoner" though not as good as either one.  It does have quite a cast, though.  Too bad. 

I researched a bunch of alternative processes for making pictures yesterday.  I am hoping to try a few, but as I have said, I am lazy and otherwise occupied, too.  It all takes time in bunches. 

I am startled that the SpaceX missile disaster hasn't brought about more (any?) inquiries into what toxic materials and in what quantities were blasted across the atmosphere over Florida.  Are reporters really stupid or will news outlets not let them publish anything about this?  I am sure it is making people ill, and surely the government will do everything it can to keep this all under wraps, but come on.  When has secrecy not been an invitation to investigative reporting?  I am right about this just as I was right about the Japanese nuclear plant.  It doesn't take much thinking to get ahead of the curve, it seems.  Maybe reporters need degrees in something other than journalism.  Perhaps they need some meat in their curriculum that promotes critical and imaginative thinking? 

My writing is dull. . . duller than dull.  My pictures are mundane.  I am hoping it is only a phase, a patch, a spell, something to get through before getting on with things again.  In the meantime, I will struggle on in public in a shameful way that should be awful to watch.  Many people aren't.  Who can blame them.