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This explains so well why I am still — after a fucking eternity of Steven Moffat — am still watching Doctor Who. (Though I must say, the new regime gives me hope for the future and I am even able to enjoy the present to some extent. Jody Whittaker is just fine; I'm still not sold that Chibnall knows what he's doing.)

Also, my baby girl learned to roll from her stomach (on which she would rather not lie) to her back last Thursday. She even deigned to do it a second time for the camera.

And no, that's not someone smoking stage-right! It's a vaporiser, spreading moisture into our bedroom's aether.

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A view from the self(ish) perspective


Young Edifice says goodbye to his baby as he prepares to venture out into the plague-emptied streets of Ottawa, afternoon of March 25, 2020.

I feel as if I'm tempting fate to type the following, but here goes ...

Presuming we don't get sick, the semi-lockdown we're experiencing in response to the Covid-19 pandemic has barely touched our lives except for one thing: I am out of work.

Out of work, but not disastrously so. Raven is still on maternity leave, at either 90% or 100% of her salary (I think the latter), and I have learned sufficient frugality from her that I actually have a couple of thousand dollars in the bank — something I was unable to accomplish back the days more than a decade ago when I earned twice what I do now. And it looks as I will be eligible for some sort of government package that will cover my lost income at least until August — which is when our plan had me leaving work to become a full-time dad anyway.

And in a worst-case scenario, if we both somehow lost our jobs, we live in an apartment owned by non-profit housing corporation and so, would be eligible for a rent subsidy until we were back on our feet.

Long story short, I don't think any of us are sick, I want to stay home with my daughter and I might get paid to do so for the next four months, and I now have more time to write and to work on being a publisher — yes, if you're looking for something good to read, click this long link!.

What's not to like?

Not quite eerie ... but close


Photo taken around 14:45 on March 25, 2020, outside a grocery store at the corner of Bank and Somerset Streets in downtown Ottawa

Oh yeah, there's plenty not to like.

On a personal level, we had intended to visit Raven's parents and family in Macau in April but that plan — obviously — is on an indefinite hold.

Much more seriously, people — quite a lot of people in some places — are dying. Many others are seriously ill and still more people are losing their jobs and anxious that they will lose a lot more than that.

And I believe, too, from information derived via The Other Place, that at least one of you has symptoms of Covid-19 and is feeling understandably anxious because of it, so the situation is hitting me on a personal level as well, if at some distance.

Here in Ottawa (see photo above), life goes on but in an eerie sort of half-normal fashion. A lot of stores are closed and the streets — even close to rush hour — have a Sunday feel to them, while queues to get into grocery stores are now the norm. (I also went to the Beer Store yesterday — yes, booze has been deemed an essential service; and rightly so, as the last thing an over-burdened medical system needs is to have its emergency rooms crowded with alcoholics suffering from delerium tremens — and found it nearly empty.)

People are mostly being very good about keeping their "social distance" from one another and seem to be dealing with the situation with consideration and good humour. That said, our just-in-time supply system is having serious problems keeping things like toilet paper in stock, as has been widely noted throughout much of the world. The toiletry section of my local supermarket reminds me of the empty shelves we so often found in Cuba.

And here we are ...


Photo of Young Edifice holding his daughter in what might have been the final snowfall of the season., Tuesday, March 24, 2020.

And so the entire world lives in times more uncertain than ever. A global economy based on suicidal fossil fuels and with a production capacity that far exceeds demand, while the rich hoard an ever-greater percentage of the whole is now being stressed by a deadly new virus that has spread across the world with shocking speed.

I think that most of us, myself definitely included, feel on a gut-level that things will soon (or soonish) go back to normal, and maybe they will.

But will they?

On the one hand, governments in a lot of places are instituting emergency measures that provide them with powers they may be loathe to relinquish, while on the other, many of capitalism's contradictions are ever-harder to paper over.

Can the climate movement become a fully-fledged anti-capitalist movement? I dunno, but I can dream ...

Me, I'm doing my best to hunker down and raise my daughter as if the world is a safe and wonderful place and will only get better. I will dream.

Meanwhile, how are you folks coping with the situation?

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December 21, 2019 - me, spending time with my fantastic daughter, a couple of days past her fourth month on Earth.

The photo has nothing to do with the post; if anything, I've posted more in the year or so since I found out Asta was going to enter my world, than I had in the previous several years!

No, at least in part, I blame Facebook.

Right. Nothing new there. But maybe I get why others have also blamed Facebook.

It's not so much (or at least, not just) that Facebook is a big time-suck, but how it is. It's not just the eternal scroll, as it is the Endless Options.

You can do anything with a Facebook post. You can read part of it, or click to read some more of it, or click again to read all of it.

You can respond by: ignoring it or Liking (or using one of the other half-dozen emojis) it. You can further (with or without a Like) reply to it. Through typing; through the re-posting of a meme; through a shared video; with a gif.

If you choose words, you can actually start a conversation - but the result, more often than not - is confusing and hard to follow, because Facebook's system has been designed not to thread conversations. Unless the conversation includes only two people, it can very quickly become almost impossible to know who is speaking to who or about what at any given time.

Why bother?

All of which is to say, while I was busily trying to catch-up on my LJ and DW friends' pages, I found myself pausing, wishing I could click a Like button so that I could acknowledge my appreciation of, or support for, their posts, but the idea of replying with words, seemed ... well, hard.

Sometimes, because a post is of a kind that demands and deserves a considered reply - and I don't know the poster well enough to offer it - you just don't anything germane to say.

Sometimes, I worried that what I had to say would just be trite, a cliche.

Almost every time I wanted to, but didn't, offer a response, was because it would take time. More time than the same, or an analogous, action on Facebook would take.

And Facebook has not only trained me to read fast, and carelessly, it has trained me to be lazy in interacting with others. Through both the carrot of endless things to read and look at, and the stick of labour, of craft and of thought.

So. Y'know. I'm gonna try and spend more time here. Post more. Comment more. Work more.

Hi there! Here's to the changing of the year!

If all this is as inane as I fear it might, I still absolutely deny indulging in a Perfectly Legal psychotropic substance purchased at a licensed facility mere blocks from my abode. Absolutely deny!

January 2022

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