Going to bed early

I’ve been asleep in a chair for about an hour and a half, and fuck it, I’m going to check off the handful of Things I Do Every Day and call it a night.

#REVIEW: Pope Francis (1936-2025)

Okay, no, not really, but as soon as I thought of the headline I couldn’t not use it. I was already going to Hell anyway; it’s not like that can get worse.(*)

Despite having been an atheist for literally my entire life, I frequently refer to myself as biologically Catholic; my parents both attended Catholic schools for at least part of their childhoods and while we were never regular churchgoers or even “Easter and Christmas” Catholics, I attended the occasional service with my grandparents and, of course, any weddings or funerals in the family were inevitably Catholic services, to say nothing of how religion affects a family’s general culture even when that family stops practicing the religion. I taught at a Catholic school for three years at the beginning of my career, and hung around at a part-time job at the parish for another year or so after that. One way or another, the Church fascinates me, with all of its plentiful warts, and Francis in particular has been a fascinating Pope, especially after his odious predecessor. I look forward to everyone on the Internet becoming an expert in the Conclave over the next week or two (note that I am already an expert on the Conclave, as someone who has been opining on religion in public for over a decade) and I am tantalized at the idea that this guy has a nonzero chance of becoming the next Pope:

I saw a decent article a few weeks ago, while Francis was hospitalized, about five or six of his most likely successors, and my recollection was that Cardinal Pizzaballa was actually one of the more progressive possibilities. Anything can happen once they head into that room; I’m fairly certain that Francis himself was a dark horse when he was named Pope, but I may be misremembering. It’s hard to imagine how the same crew of people that named Benedict XVI, plus eight years of cardinals he named, might have chosen someone nearly Benedict’s complete opposite, but it happened. Anyway, if I can find the article I’ll post it. The same part of me that enjoys reading about old-school political party conventions back when they actually chose the Presidential candidate rather than simply coronating him loves to read people speculating about the Conclave, which obviously doesn’t happen in public, so there’s a lot more people wantonly making shit up out there. Maybe I’ll pretend I’ve got an inside source! We’ll see.

At any rate, it would be nice if something happens in 2025 that doesn’t make things worse, so even if you aren’t a Catholic we can all hope that someone sane emerges after the smoke turns white. One thing not swinging further to the right this year would be great.

(*) To be clear, I don’t believe in Hell either.

#REVIEW: The Silverblood Promise, by James Logan

You may have noticed this about me by now: I love me a good heist story. Any time a book is about a charming rogue whose job is to rob somebody, I’m pretty well in from the jump with no further information needed. Breaking into somewhere? Breaking out of somewhere? Scamming the local merchantry or rich assholes into, well, anything? Yep, here’s my debit card, we’re good.

The Silverblood Promise is not quite a heist novel, at least in the sense that it’s not about a single overarching act of scammery. Main character Lukan Cardova is a bit of a con man and certainly a charming rogue, but the story kicks off when his estranged father dies and sends him off on a wild quest to a hive of scum and villainy on the other side of the continent, in search of … well, Lukan’s really not sure at all what he’s in search of. He has a last-words type of note written in his father’s blood with three names on it: his, the name of the city, and another he doesn’t recognize. This is very much a “one thing leads to another” type of book, where he finds out who he’s looking for, but she’s in jail, and then he deals with that, and then there’s this whole other thing that he needs to do, and everything he manages to complete leads to another quest, much to his great annoyance. The story keeps moving along at a pleasantly rapid clip, and by the end of it Lukan is not only hip-deep in local and possibly inter-dimensional politics as well as a thieves’ guild or two but he’s acquired a combination minion and surrogate daughter in an eleven-year-old named Flea, who tries to rob him early on and then just … sticks around after that. There’s no One Big Scheme, but there are literally five or six smaller ones; maybe this is a heists novel, and not a heist novel, who knows.

There are enough ideas for five or six books packed into this book, which is Part One of (I believe) a trilogy, with the second volume to follow this fall. If anything, the book might be overstuffed, as every side character and local power structure Lukan runs into is something I wanted to know more about, but as far s I know the second novel takes place in an entirely different city. The book’s biggest weak spot is, unfortunately, Lukan himself, who can tend toward being whiny (he’s thoroughly exasperated with the plot of his book by the end) and is also a bit of a drunk, but the book at least knows that being the drunk is a character flaw. This is Logan’s debut novel and there’s also a bit of that thing where Lukan occasionally basically replies to the third-person omniscient narrator. The type of thing where the book drops a bit of worldbuilding and then Lukan will think Yeah, that sucked, or something along those lines. It can certainly be overlooked and some people won’t even notice it, but if it’s the kind of thing you notice, it’s gonna knock you out of the book once in a while.

That said, my gripes are minor and I chewed through this book’s 500+ pages in two days, losing some sleep along the way. I had a feeling, picking it up, that this was going to be one of those books that I regretted leaving on my Unread shelf for so long, and … yeah. I’ll be reading the sequel pretty close to immediately, when it comes out in November.

I’m 80 pages from a book review

I’m nearing the end of James Logan’s The Silverblood Promise, and I’d rather be reading than anything else right now. So I’m gonna go do that! I’m enjoying the book, so expect a review in the very near future. By which I mean “probably tomorrow.”

In which that was the right move

My CPAP still isn’t working properly, so last night I stuffed earplugs in my ears, took three Tylenol PM and slept so hard that somehow at some point during the night I pulled the hose out of my mask and didn’t wake up. I would have called that impossible before yesterday, as it’s both loud and suddenly even more difficult to breathe than normal, non-CPAP-assisted prone breathing is. And I slept until nine, which hasn’t happened in long enough that I don’t remember the last time I slept in that far. And then I spent the entire day hanging out with my son and reading, and I’m currently at peace enough with the world that my district sent out the internal transfer list and I only very briefly glanced at it, which I would have done anyway, because that type of thing is always fun.

We need way, way too many math teachers in my district right now, and I have a sneaking suspicion I’m going to end up with another Goddamned overload next year. Which I’m of two minds about. It means another year with no breaks– remember, I walk into my classroom at 8:00 AM and I’m supervising kids until 3:20 with no pauses of any kind– but it also immunizes me against getting asked to cover anyone else’s classroom on my prep period, which I absolutely hate doing.

But whatever. There’s six weeks of school left– and the next two ought to fly by, since we’ve got state testing– and then I’ve got summer break to recenter myself. I needed today. Hopefully I can go into Monday with a better attitude.

They broke me today

I ended instruction early with my sixth period class, with the words “To hell with this, you’re on your own,” went to my desk and put in for a personal day tomorrow on the spot. When you put in for a personal day you’re supposed to include a note to your administrator explaining what’s going on. Here’s mine:

My initial draft, “fuck this and fuck them,” was lightly edited by AI.

Still beat

Sorry to do this two days in a row, but last night my CPAP machine shit the bed on me, making a tiny, high-pitched noise every time I exhaled that proved completely impossible to ignore, and so I tried to go without it, because the noise it was making was keeping both of us from sleeping?

Yeah. I can’t go back. I got maybe twenty minutes of good sleep last night. Maybe.

I’m going to tear the thing apart, clean every bit of it, put it back together, replace every single part I have a spare for, and go to bed, and if it starts singing the song of its people at me again I might cry until I’m actually dead.

(That’s not me in the picture. Probably obvious, but still.)

I’m beat

Today didn’t exactly suck, but much in line with yesterday it was an extremely long day without having anything actually bad happen. I’m going to go beat a boss in Khazan and then call it a night, which means I’ll spend an hour getting my ass kicked and then turn the game off in frustration and not fall asleep until midnight.

Whee!