Come for the politics, stay for the snark.

Too inconsequential to be sued

Verified, but limited!

An army of rabid, anonymous commenters

This blog will pay for itself.

Word salad with all caps

We can agree to disagree, but I’m right.

This blog is Obama’s Katrina.

Naturally gregarious and alpha

Today in our ongoing national embarrassment…

Women: They Get Shit Done

Gastritis Broke My Calculator

Han shot first.

An almost top 10,000 blog!

This is a big f—–g deal.

Nevertheless, she persisted

Usually wrong but never in doubt.

How has Obama failed you today?

We are aware of all internet traditions.

Yes we did.

Proof that we need a blogger ethics panel.

Good luck with your asparagus.

And we’re all out of bubblegum.

The revolution will be supervised.

Dinky Hocker Shoots Smack!

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“Not Polite”: Rest in Power, Larry Kramer

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… Kramer was not polite. He was far from civil. People were dying, the country and its government didn’t seem to care—indeed, some of the more prominent conservatives of the day seemed downright gleeful that AIDS was killing all the right people—and Kramer didn’t have time for polite discussions.

Mr. Kramer enjoyed provocation for its own sake — he once introduced Mayor Edward I. Koch of New York to his pet wheaten terrier as the man who was “killing Daddy’s friends” — and this could sometimes overshadow his achievements as an author and social activist…“I was trying to make people united and angry. I was known as the angriest man in the world, mainly because I discovered that anger got you further than being nice. And when we started to break through in the media, I was better TV than someone who was nice.”

We may very well be entering the most volatile summer of protest since 1968. If what happened in Minneapolis on Tuesday night is any indication, a fully militarized police culture is out there waiting to be unleashed on all the right people. We need Larry Kramers as loud as we can get them.

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Memorial Day 2020: Memorial Day In the Time of Pandemic

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I imagine that during Memorial Day 1918 and 1919, in the midst of the swine flu pandemic that emerged from the training barracks at Fort Riley and somehow got blamed on Spain, people tried to make sense of the day and what it was supposed to symbolize and commemorate while the US was at war abroad and Americans were dying at home of communicable disease. As I wrote last year, Memorial Day has sort of evolved into a strange observance in America’s civic life and civil culture:

Memorial Day has assumed a strange place within American civic culture. It has become the Federal holiday that signals the start of summer, while at the same time, because of the changes to how Americans respond and relate to the US military, has become a de facto second Veteran’s Day. And, of course, for those that have served, or those related to them, or those who have known them as more than passing acquaintances, and those who have some civic self awareness, the holiday retains its original purpose: to commemorate America’s war dead.

All of this together is a strange civic cultural mashup.

Memorial Day 2020, and the long holiday weekend that comes with it, is even stranger than the holiday usually is. This year it has become part of the partisan, tribal attitudes and actions surrounding how Americans should be responding to SARS-CoV2 and COVID-19. We’ll know in two to three weeks just how bad the damage from this weekend’s activities is. How many who would not have become infected have become infected and how many who would not have died will have died. Further ripping at and tattering our civic culture and further poisoning the life blood of the Republic.

Eventually Americans will figure out how to recognize, commemorate, and collectively mourn those who have died as a result of COVID-19. Tens of thousands of whom would likely still be alive if the President, his senior advisors and staff, his surrogates, Senator McConnell and his Republican majority in the Senate, and Fox News, OANN, Rush Limbaugh, Breitbart, and the rest of conservative news, social, and digital media didn’t approach the pandemic, and the challenges it presents to the US, as some sort of partisan game to be won.

It seems strange to focus on commemorating America’s war dead when we are approaching 100,000 Americans dead from COVID-19 and significant portions of the US seem to think that reality is somewhere between fake news and not their problem. America’s soul has been sick for a long time. Some of this goes back to the original sins of America’s founding. Some of the poison has been more recently injected. But the strange reality of Memorial Day 2020 makes America’s civic soul sickness brutally clear.

Rest well Michael, Nicole, Paula, Gregg, and Terry.

Open thread.

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On The Road – For Alain – Fly Away Home

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From Albatrossity

Alain’s passing leaves a void here, and that void can only partially be filled by words and pictures, even though we try our hardest to find words and pictures that might help. And I have no words better than these.

On The Road - WaterGirl - Test

Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver.

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

~

Love and peace from all of us, Alain.  Fly Away Home!

On The Road - For Alain - Fly Away Home
BIllinGlendaleCA

I’ve submitted around 550 photos to OTR over the past few years, Alain showed the most enthusiasm for my Orion nebula photos (even though my first efforts were not terribly good).  But that showed the encouragement Alain provided in addition to a platform for us as contributors.  Many photographers are not the best at “blowing our own horn” and Alain was there when we didn’t. 

I’m eternally grateful and I think that this photo of the Orion and Running Man nebula is something that he would have enjoyed and I hope that you do as well.  

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I Thought I’d Share an Alain Story: Sourdough Edition

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A number of you all indicated you loved the stories Alain would tell in his posts and his comments. And before I go any farther, I was in touch with Carol today and what you all wrote in your comments to Cole’s post, as well as mine last night and today really made her load a little lighter.

On the 6th I was texting with Alain – I had asked him about upgrading to a new 4k AppleTV as I’ve been running my old one and as a result was unable to watch my superhero cartoons and movies adapted from comic books in glorious 4K Dolbyvision – and I wanted his opinion on whether it was worth it. Yes, I asked a tech guy who was also a tech gear guy if I should upgrade my tech. Silly me!

After establishing that I should upgrade, which I have done (hence the HDMI cable references yesterday), he asked if I wanted some sourdough starter. Before we go any further, while I love sourdough bread, I don’t eat very much of it because I don’t do well with refined carbohydrates and refined sugar. So I largely avoid bread and all the other things I love that are made of refined carbohydrates and include refined sugar. He lulled me in on the sourdough by asking about a candy store in Tallahassee and then segued into the sourdough. Here’s what happened:

(ETA: When I first entered Alain’s information into my phone, I entered it based on how it sounded when he pronounced his last name or how I thought it sounded, so Chamot wound up as Chailmont – don’t judge, I’m tone deaf…)

Alain Chailmont: Look up Lofty Pursuits or Pd.net. Public displays of confection. I’m so jealous you can drive there.

Adam L Silverman: Ok

Alain Chailmont: Just amazing craft and addictive watching. Candy making.

(Adam here: at this point I’m looking up Lofty Pursuits to try to figure out where they are so I can determine how long it will take me to get there)

Adam L Silverman: Ok. That’s a six hour drive depending on traffic. So I could drive there, but I could also drive to Atlanta

Alain Chailmont: Yeah. But it’s a fuck closer for you than me! lol

Adam L Silverman: Yes, but…

Alain Chailmont: You won’t be stopping by, I dig.

Adam L Silverman: Not any time soon. Also, statewide and county wide shelter in place order

Alain Chailmont: Neither will I. I don’t expect business to take me to Tallahassee Which is why I ordered a week and a half ago from them. Can’t wait to get my order.

Adam L Silverman: Gotcha. Enjoy! Time for me to walk the dogs!

Alain Chailmont: Careful of the 🐊

Adam L Silverman:

Floriduh! Man Never Takes a Day Off! Even During a Pandemic!

Alain Chailmont: I showed Carol that earlier, she figured some folk would finally listen because that’s a relatable distance. Lol. Any interest in some Sourdough starter? My new batch is almost ready to dry and I’d be happy to send you a sample.

Adam L Silverman: Passover starts this week so no bread and I also can’t tolerate refined carbohydrates, so I generally avoid bread. But I appreciate the offer. I’m sure TaMara would appreciate a batch!

Alain Chailmont: Just for thought – my primary usage is sourdough pancakes. When the starter is cultivated well, they are so complex. The fermented flour is usually easy on digestion for those with issues.

I’ll send her one!

Adam L Silverman: Okay, send me one. I’ll find a use for it

Alain Chailmont: Shall do. Hott Stuff Sourdough is my brand 😂 it’ll await your efforts indefinitely as long as you keep it dry and in the dark.

Adam L Silverman: Not a problem. Thanks!

By now you’ve noticed that 1) I didn’t actually want any sourdough starter, but…, 2) I threw both Passover and TaMara at him as a distraction, neither of which worked, and 3) when that didn’t work I gave in. What you can’t see in those texts is that I gave in because I could feel through the texts that I wasn’t being a good friend. That the sourdough starter was important to him, so I’d take some and find a use for it because that would make him happy. And because it was an easy thing to do to make him happy. And it did make him happy.

Two days later, feeling the need to extract a bit of payment for knuckling on the sourdough starter, I had this conversation with Alain:

Adam L Silverman: You got Popehat in trouble

Alain Chailmont: Haha lol

Adam L Silverman: Do we need to schedule an intervention?

Alain Chailmont: I. Am. So. Cool. For once.

Adam L Silverman: Don’t let it go to your head

The next day, while kibbitzing about Passover seders, or in my case the lack thereof, Alain returned to sourdough starter:

Alain Chailmont: My new batch dries tomorrow and so i begin shipping again Saturday lol

Adam L Silverman: Just so you know, you can’t sell that stuff within 500 feet of a school or a playground!

And that’s my Alain sourdough story. I didn’t want any, I could feel through the texts on my phone that not wanting any was upsetting him, so I said I’d take some. I’m sure there’s a packet en route in the mail, and I’m going to put it to damn good use in his memory!

By the way, Gretchen Koch an amazing graphic artist with a PhD in religion, she did this on the fly for Popehat:

I Thought I'd Share an Alain Story: Sourdough Edition 1

 

Open thread!

PS – I’ve got a baking/confecting post I’ll put up tomorrow night. I made chocolate coated peanut butter truffles earlier sweetened only with agave. They’re setting up right now in the fridge.

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We Lost a Good Man in Alain

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By now you have heard the horrible, no good, awful news about Alain. I received an email earlier this afternoon from his fiance telling me had died, and I was in such a state of shock I immediately fired off a completely inappropriate email in response that consisted of “OMG. What happened.” The stun of the news made it so that it took me a few minutes to realize that that was completely the wrong response to someone who is going through what Carol is and emailed her back, and while waiting to hear back from her contacted Adam and the rest of the front pagers.

I asked Adam to make the announcement, as he and Alain had a special friendship, and he would best be able to describe Alain, and he did a superb job. Alain really was a kind, patient, gentle, decent person, and this is such a horrible loss.

You may not be aware of this, but it will probably come as no surprise, but I am an actual fucking nightmare to work with at times. When it comes to technology, I am a total pain in the ass to deal with. I just want something to do what I want it to do, and I really do not care to learn how to code to get something done. Alain, bless his heart, was the kind of guy who if you asked him what time it is, he would tell you how to build a watch. So imagine that poor guy trying to explain things to me and I am basically tabbed out and in an other place mentally, only to come back five minutes later and tell him basically “Just make it so people stop emailing me.”

And he would. He was the engine behind the website for several years, never complained, always there, and just loved all of you and took great pleasure in keeping this place running for you all. Many of you have posted stories about his acts of kindness towards you. I have my own stories, and we’ll talk about them later, some day. He may be gone physically, but Alain will be here in spirit for as long as this shitty little hole on the internet exists.

Rest in peace, brother.

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In Memoriam for Alain Chamot: May His Memory Be a Blessing!

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In Memoriam for Alain Chamot: May His Memory Be a Blessing!

(G. Alain Chamot: 5 February 1971 – 14 April 2020)

I cannot express how sorry I am to have to write this post and inform all of you that Alain passed away sometime in the early morning hours between last night and this morning. He simply did not wake up and efforts to resuscitate him failed. His fiancé Carol has indicated that, as of now, they don’t know what happened. She has let both John and I know that as more information comes in, she’ll update us. And I’ll update you.

Most of you here knew Alain as the guy who kept the (old) site together with spit, baling wire, rubber bands, and a combination of hope and determination that he could stay one step ahead of whatever might stop working next. And that’s how I knew him, and had largely been interacting with him, until something tragic happened: his mom took ill and then died. We were friendly – I’m not sure Alain could be anything other than gregariously friendly – but I wouldn’t have said we were good friends. When his mother became ill, I stepped up communication to check on him. When she died I did what everyone from my religious community does when someone we know has someone pass away: I sent him food. Specifically a batch of brownies. I got his address from John, baked the brownies, and overnighted them too him once cool and set the next day. And with that I had transformed a friendly acquaintance into a friend for life. He called me up after the brownies arrived to thank me and until today, we’ve been in regular touch ever since.

Some of you may know that Alain struggled with his mother’s passing; they were very close. What got him through was his fiancé Carol’s support, his cats, his other hobbies and pursuits, and this place. No matter how frustrated Alain might have gotten with trying to keep the site up or running, he loved this place and everyone here. Just as I know he loved Carol and his cats. And his other passions like fishing, mushrooming, freemasonry, cooking, and baking. Last week I finally succumbed, despite not eating bread – even when it isn’t Passover – and told him to go ahead and send me some of his sourdough starter. I told him I’d find something to use it for and then I’d do a post about it for him. There was just no saying no to his infectious enthusiasm.

Alain and I talked about once a month on the phone, but we texted far more often. He was always excited about something. A fishing trip he was planning – the pandemic put that one on hold. Or the house hunting and then house purchase that he and Carol spent most of last year doing. Or some new cooking project he was working on. Or, more recently, now that he and Carol had finally found their house, bought it, and moved in, getting to work on the wedding plans.

We never met in person. Every time I was scheduled to go to DC for meetings, like last month, something came up. And when I was informed last August I was moving to the DC area for work, Alain was, if possible, more excited than I was and he had plenty of suggestions for what I thought would be my relocation. That assignment didn’t happen. And it is to my now everlasting regret that I never made it to the DC area over the past four years so we could meet in person.

Just yesterday we were texting about something completely trivial – HDMI cables. His last text to me, when I informed him the right cable had arrived by delivery, was “Excelsior!”. I almost called him today, about a 1/2 hour before John sent me the bad news. I had a stupid tech issue I was trying to fix for my mom, but decided it was so trivial there was no reason to bother him – I could look it up online. Alain never failed to make time when my mom needed tech help beyond my basic abilities. He never met her, I think he spoke to her once on FaceTime while he was walking me through troubleshooting whatever was the problem on her computer. But he was always there if I needed help.

And I don’t know a better way to sum him up: he was always there if I needed help. He was always infectiously gregarious. And he was always excited about something: Carol, his cats, freemasonry, opera, his other hobbies, and just life.

Let’s all keep his fiancé Carol in our thoughts. And for those of you who do such things, our prayers as well.

 

In Memoriam for Alain Chamot: May His Memory Be a Blessing!

G. Alain Chamot: 5 February 1971 – 14 April 2020.

May his memory be a blessing.

Open thread!

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Fuck

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John Prine died today of complications of a coronavirus infection.

Let me be as clear as I can be: Donald Trump and his criminal associates who through incompetence and a criminal disregard of the clear and imminent danger in service of a campaign advantage opened the US to this virus. He and they share direct responsibility for each and every death that the US has suffered: they were and are in charge; they were warned; and they chose explicitly to fuck up.

So, yes, in my eyes, Donald Trump is an accessory to the murder of John Prine, as he is to each one we’ve lost, famous or not.

Fuck.

That’s it. That’s all I got. I hate the suffering that’s spread around the country. I hate the losses we have endured, are facing, will suffer. I hate those who have led us into such misery. I hope for my son and all of us that we will find a way to banish them to the outer darkness, so that we can mourn those who matter to us without constant rage corrupting our grief…

…and that we can then take their memories for a blessing.

Good night, y’all.

 

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Tuesday Morning Open Thread: Let Her Example Be Our Inspiration

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… As Mrs. Johnson herself was fond of saying, her tenure at Langley — from 1953 until her retirement in 1986 — was “a time when computers wore skirts.”

For some years at midcentury, the black women who worked as “computers” were subjected to a double segregation: Consigned to separate office, dining and bathroom facilities, they were kept separate from the much larger group of white women who also worked as NASA mathematicians. The white women in turn were segregated from the agency’s male mathematicians and engineers.

But over time, the work of Mrs. Johnson and her colleagues — myriad calculations done mainly by hand, using slide rules, graph paper and clattering desktop calculating machines — won them a level of acceptance that for the most part transcended race.

“NASA was a very professional organization,” Mrs. Johnson told The Observer of Fayetteville, N.C., in 2010. “They didn’t have time to be concerned about what color I was.”…

Creola Katherine Coleman was born on Aug. 26, 1918, in White Sulphur Springs, W.Va., the youngest of four children of Joshua and Joylette (Lowe) Coleman. Her mother was a schoolteacher, her father a farmer.

From her earliest childhood Katherine counted things: the number of dishes in the cupboard, the number of steps on the way to church and, as insurmountable a task as it might pose for one old enough to be daunted, the number of stars in the sky.

“I couldn’t wait to get to high school to take algebra and geometry,” Mrs. Johnson told The Associated Press in 1999.

But for black children, the town’s segregated educational system went as far as only sixth grade. Thus, every fall, Joshua Coleman moved his family 125 miles away to Institute, W.Va.

In Institute, Katherine’s older siblings, and then Katherine, attended the high school associated with the West Virginia Collegiate Institute, a historically black institution that became West Virginia State College and is now West Virginia State University.

Mr. Coleman remained in White Sulphur Springs to farm, and, when the Depression made farming untenable, to work as a bellman at the Greenbrier, a world-renowned resort there.

Katherine entered high school at 10 and graduated at 14. The next year she entered West Virginia State. By her junior year, she had taken all the math courses the college had to offer.

Her mentor there, William Waldron Schieffelin Claytor, only the third black person to earn a doctorate in mathematics from an American university, conceived special classes just for her.

“You would make a good research mathematician,” he told his 17-year-old charge. “And I am going to prepare you for this career.”

“Where will I find a job?” Katherine asked.

“That,” he replied, “will be your problem.”…

Then, in 1952, Katherine Goble heard that Langley was hiring black women as mathematicians…

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Wish Me Luck

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About once every two years, I screw up and forget to plan ahead for dinner. I have done so tonight. I also have no desire to go anywhere, so you know what that means- delivery pizza.

Sadly, I live in an area that is not know for its abundance of delivery food or pizza. So you know what that means.

Dominos.

I estimate I will feel sick to my stomach within 2 hours.

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RIP Kobe Bryant

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His helicopter crashed this morning. Four other people dead as well.

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Sounds That Build High Like a Mountain- RIP, Neil Peart

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Neil Peart, one of the greatest if not THE greatest rock and roll drummers of all time, died after a three year battle with cancer. He was 67.

I have been completely amazed by the outpouring of appreciation for Peart from people I would never have expected in a million years. I am just genuinely surprised by the diversity of the people in my timeline on twitter, on fb, and elsewhere, who have all mentioned his death and the loss. I mean, I knew he was amazing, but I had no idea he was this widely appreciated by so many others. Peart like to state that Rush always wanted to stay the disaffected 16 year old teenage boy- I guess there are a lot of us out there, male and female alike. Perhaps my favorite quote regarding his death was “Your favorite drummer’s favorite drummer has died.”

***

One of the things about getting older (and I am still relatively young at 49), is watching the waves of events that seem to surround you. Early 20’s, the first round of friends marrying, grandparents dying; late 20’s and early 30’s, first rounds of friend’s kids and divorces; late 30’s and early 40’s, people’s parents and cultural icons from your youth, friend’s second marriages, friend’s kids graduating from college; late 40’s, your teenage heroes dying of natural causes, your friends start to die prematurely, and the generations ahead of you start to die off rapidly. In my small town of 300, four people in their late 70’s and early 80’s have died in the past few months. Harry Chambers, proprietor of the general store in town, and I were talking, and we noted that a couple more obituaries and we’re going to be the next generation under the gun. I said that I am not sure I am ready for that, and we both agreed that we don’t have much of a choice.

***

That’s kind of what is so remarkable about groups like Rush, for me. I understand that they are not for everyone, and that’s fine, but for me, all of the world has changed in the past four to five decades, but when I put 2112 on my earphones, I am again lying on the floor of the college radio station, lights turned out, speakers turned to 11, escaping from it all.

Thanks, Neil.

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And I’m Back!

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This post is dedicated to Cam-WA! Love you dude or dudette! Don’t ever change!

I spoke to Cole about two hours ago and have been given the all clear to log in and stay logged in. I’ll be back to regularly scheduled posting most likely this evening.

Until then we can clearly use a new open thread to talk about whatever.

Open thread!

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Gone For Now…

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Due to technical difficulties with the site, I’ll be logged out of WordPress for ten days to two weeks. I’ve asked that someone send me an all clear email when (if?) they get the problem fixed. But for the next fortnight or however long it takes, I won’t be around as I’m not going to futz around with logging in, making separate journal entries about when I’m logged and what I was doing, logging out, entering that I’m logged out, etc, etc, etc. I expect I’ll be back, provided someone eventually notifies me that it is safe to log back in. It’s just much easier to log out once and stay that way until I get an all clear.

Everyone have a happy and healthy New Year.

Update at 9:15 PM EDT

Just a quick update to clarify in response to some comments. I am not quitting the blog! I am not quitting blogging here! I will be back either on January 5th or sooner if we get an all clear before then. To further clarify: if I can only be logged in when I’m drafting or editing a post or clearing a comment, then it will make posting and commenting difficulty as I have to log off once I hit publish, which means I won’t be logged in to comment. Just think of this as a short vacation.

Open thread!

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Dear Virginia, A Reply from Schlemazel from 2012: Is There a War on Christmas?

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A belated guest post from our beloved Schlemazel, written in 2012.

NOVEMBER 23, 2012 AT 2:38 PM

DEAR EDITOR:

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no war on Christmas. Papa says, ‘If you see it on FAUX News it’s so.’ Please tell me the truth; is there a War on Christmas?

VIRGINIA O’HANLON,

115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET

Schlemaze’s Reply:

No war on Christmas?

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by rationality in an irrational age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not provable by rational observation. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, can be little. The reaction to this great universe of ours can be for man to be a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a war on Christmas. It exists as certainly as hate and stinginess and demagoguery exist, and you know that they abound and give to their life its highest ugly and lowest meaning. Alas! How merry might be the world if there were a war on Christmas. It might be as merry as if there were no teabagers. There would be no inchoate hate then, no petty sniping, no panic to make less tolerable this existence. We should have enjoyment, except in insensate cruelty and slights. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be increased.

Not believe in the war on Christmas! You might as well not believe in T-bone eating Bucks! You might get your papa to hire men to watch all of FAUX News to catch the war dispatches, but even if they did not witness BillO frothing at the mouth, what would that prove? Nobody sees the war on Christmas, but that is a sign that there is a real war on Christmas. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see (according to FAUX News). Did you ever see welfare queens driving Cadillacs on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the evils there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

No war on Christmas!? Thank God! it lives, and it lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, it will continue to make mad the ‘brains’ of morans.

Merry Christmas, everyone!  Much love to all those who have gone before us, and can longer be with us.

 

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A modest Christmas proposal

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It’s that time of year again…

It’s time once again to continue a tradition started by Jon Swift/Al Weisel, the “Best Posts of the Year, Chosen by the Bloggers Themselves.” Jon/Al left behind some wonderful satire, but was also a nice guy and a strong supporter of small blogs. (Here are Jon/Al’s massive 2007 and 2008 editions. Our smaller revivals from 2010 through 2018 can be found here.)

If you’d like to participate, just reply to this e-mail or write to me (Batocchio9 AT yahoo DOT com) with your best post of the year before 12/25:

Blog Name
Title of Post
Link
Author of Post
Brief Description/Pitch of the Post (1–2 sentences)

(If it’s not a reply, adding “best post” in the subject line would also help.)

To modify Jon Swift’s 2008 solicitation:

I would be very honored if you would participate and send me a link to what you think was your best post of [2019], along with a short description of it.  Please make the hard choice and send me only one link.  I would like to post it before the end of the year, so if you could get it to me before Christmas, I would really appreciate it.

One submission per blog, please, otherwise things can get messy. Group bloggers can pick a piece among themselves, but are also welcome to submit their work via their individual blogs, if they have them.

As usual, I’m aiming to find the right balance between “inclusive” and “manageable.”  If you know a few excellent blogs (preferably on the smaller side) that you suspect might not be on my radar, feel free to send me their website address (and contact info, if you have it).

Thanks,

A modest Christmas proposalPost + Comments (2)