Woof, it really seems like Twitter is going to burst into flames and fail spectacularly at literally any minute now. It’s been my preferred doomscroll for the last many years, probably to my detriment, but it’s great for bite-size takes that lead down magnificent rabbitholes; introducing new art and artists; keeping in touch with like-minded folks; and boatloads of rough chuckles.
That said, it’s getting hella creepy and insecure and there’s a lot wrong with it now that apartheid clyde has taken it over. At this point, unless there’s a big course correction, I suspect it’ll be either unusable or dead very soon.
So: Here I am again, and not just for Jack and Jill Baba Yaga stories anymore. I figure I might as well fire up the old blog– it’s been around since ’99, because I am old as hell– and both limber up the ol’ writing hands and use it as a method of keeping in touch with folks, the way it once did.
I’ll be using this primarily the way I’ve been using most social media, I imagine, only longer-form, for good or ill. So I’ll be posting things like photos:
Little vignette-y things, like this twoot:
My second-grader, to her teacher: “Some people think I’m older than I am because I know big words. Like disembowelment. But I don’t want to talk about that very much.”
And comic books. Because whoo, since the pandemic hit, I’ve gotten back into comic books in a pretty huge way. It’s… almost alarming. I can’t stop with the comic books.
It’s the first appearance of Brother Voodoo! I’ve been after a copy of this for a while now, and I’m super happy to finally have one. Hooray! Comics!
Welcome back, blog. Welcome back.