It would have been more, but by then it was after 1:30 AM and I'd been tired before I got home from work; but with the wheels turning, I couldn't just go to sleep. I played Hexiom Connect for a while and tried to slow the brain down a bit.
Got into bed around 3, and still my mind was running at top speed, plot and character and setting and theme and tone tumbling over and over in my mind. This is my sandbox, the one I started building in 1979; going back to it is like getting into a comfortable pair of shoes and it's a little (maybe more than a little) exciting to be working on a new story in it.
"New" is a bit of a misnomer. The basic plot of the story was one I developed in 2000 as a final adventure for a role-playing campaign I'd set in my SF universe (said setting being the entire reason I revisited it in the first place, having decided previously that I could no longer write SF!) but of course the story concept dates back much further, to a time when I was still writing things by hand. (Prior to 1983, then.)
But the thing that stymied me was where to begin? I knew I wanted to begin in the office of the Secretary General of the UN; he's the person who drives the conflict--but he's not really effective enough to be the primary antagonist, being an effete snob with virtually no spine, and he's too much of a toad for me to want to write about him as a focus character. So, I made him a puppet, a figurehead...and anyone who's read my ouerve will probably be able to figure out who the puppeteer is. Especially those who played in the campaign.
And that is the hook, for me: how that character went from being a bad guy to being a good guy. Because he started out pretty damned bad...and his hand in causing the collapse turns out to be for a surprising reason. (Surprising, that is, if you never read #Release_Candidate_One, which shows the aftermath of his tinkering.) But in everything that happens subsequent to this story, this character is arguably more good than evil, and his counterpart ends up being the opposite. It all ties into the central theme of the universe, and things will probably get pretty big before the story ends.
But I only have an inchoate idea of what, exactly, will happen. See, I'm not telling these stories for other people. Though I am hoping other people will find them entertaining enough to give me money for the privilege of reading them, mainly I'm telling these stories to entertain myself. The rest is bonus. And because my creative process works this way, I get to find out what happens at the same time everyone else does.
So, there's that.
But there's so much history and detail, when I write something I need to check it--so I had four windows open to other stories, and was also looking at the campaign materials from that long-lost Alternity campaign, and-and-and--but the result is so much fun, and so exciting, that I don't care.
* * *
Clinton press secretary advises reporter with perfectly reasonable questions about Hillary's health to "get a life".
Here's the thing about pneumonia: if it's so bad that you're collapsing from it, you need to go to a hospital right now. You're not going to repair to a private location and then, two hours later, appear hale and hearty again. It simply does not happen.
Now, if you have some kind of neurological deficit and suffer an "attack" of one kind or another, you can then be all better a couple hours later. Quoth Karl Denninger:
Indeed, if you were believed to actually be suffering from heatstroke and severe dehydration to a degree sufficient to cause you to collapse, especially if you had been diagnosed a few days earlier with pneumonia (which I remind you is a compromise of the lungs and thus your ability to exchange oxygen and CO2) it would quite-arguably be attempted manslaughter to fail to take you directly to the nearest ER. Hillary was not taken to ANY ER; she was taken to Chelsea's apartment. The only rational explanation for that is that her detail and staff knew she was neither dehydrated or suffering heat exhaustion and thus was at no risk of imminent respiratory collapse.I don't need to amplify that. It's a scathing indictment of the story the Democrat campaign is telling.
I also find it amazing that the press is wholly uncritical of the fact that they're not allowed total coverage of Hillary's campaign. If Donald Trump were to deny them "protective pool coverage", they'd be screaming bloody murder from the mountaintops. "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO HIDE, MR. TRUMP?"
"Hillary Clinton appears to be incapable of safely operating a motor vehicle," Dennginer continues. If she's too impaired to drive a car, she's for damned sure too impaired to be President.
Perhaps she didn't collapse, but suffered an episode of akinesia where she was unable to step off the curb and had to be dragged into the van, only the press is obediently parroting the party line...because a collapse due to pneumonia is vastly preferable to a diagnosis of advanced Parkinson's disease.
Note how the freeze episode is triggered by the need to step-off a kerb - a classic Parkinsonian symptom of Akinesia - and the subject does not 'stumble' or trip on the kerb, nor did she 'fall' (that is the mass media telling you what you are supposed to see) - but is standing frozen, unable to initiate the movements needed to step-off the kerb, and stiffly resisting moving forwards, having to be dragged bodily and off-balance.An SS agent opines.
Secret Service procedure for each detail dictates that everyone knows which hospital to go to depending on the event - heart failure, gunshot, you name it. It is very revealing that, whatever is wrong with her, she is being treated by her own private medical specialists in secret and, judging by the ballet-like reaction by her detail, they have dealt with this before.Meanwhile the spin is that Hillary powered through a grueling hour of standing on her feet, doing nothing else. I know, right? Ever stood in line at an amusement park? I never saw anyone collapsing from standing in line for an hour. Of course, these people were probably all blessed with exceptional fortitude just like Hillary Clinton, who bravely stood up for more than an hour before finally succumbing to the punishing heat and humidity of a pleasant September day in New York.
...the shit they shovel at us is the same shit they'd (correctly) deride as ludicrous if some Republican tried to ladle it out. "Ooh, Hillary is so strong! for being able to stand up for a whole hour. Truly we have never had a politician who could withstand such rigor!"
Teddy Roosevelt got shot and completed a campaign speech but that's peanuts compared to Hillary standing up for sixty minutes straight.
Ronald Reagan got shot, and he went to the hospital, which only goes to show how much of a wimp he was. Hillary wouldn't go to the hospital! She'd go to her daughter's apartment and emerge two hours later, completely healed, because THAT IS JUST HOW FUCKIN' AWESOME SHE IS!!!!!!!!
My command of sarcasm seems insufficient to the task.
* * *
Incidentally, Pneumoia is contagious, yet Hillary hugged a child a couple hours after she collapsed because of pneumonia.
After her little stumble, she was rushed away...not to a hospital, but to her daughter's apartment. About 90 minutes later she emerged, apparently looking fantastically better. Now, I've had "walking pneumonia" and numerous bouts of bronchitis. You know what made me go from stumbling down ill to "I feel great" in 90 minutes? Not a damned thing. The best meds and oxygen bumped me up to "well, I don't feel like immediate death anymore." So I'm left to wonder what miracle of modern chemistry there might be that will perk a sick person right up. Something that, I dunno, could tweak you right up to the semblance of health with all due speed.I don't know. Cocaine, maybe? ("But cocaine is illegal!" Know what else is illegal? Having classified information on a private server. In fact, that is more illegal than possession of cocaine.)
I've had walking pneumonia, myself. A very mild case of it--the doctor could tell there was fluid way down at the very bottom of my lungs, but I didn't need oxygen--it left me feeling like a dog's breakfast on a continuous basis. It took a couple of weeks' worth of antibiotics before I started feeling human again. I "powered through" that and worked, but then my job consisted of me sitting at a desk and rattling keys, writing service manuals--I didn't need physical stamina to do it. (I could be President!)
* * *
Rob Reiner lives up to the "Meathead" monicker yet again. The phrase "mostly white males who don't have college degrees" is commie-lib code for stupid racist white men. Not having a college degree means you're stupid, you see, and you can't help being racist when you're stupid.
Not long ago someone pointed out that lefties have one insult and one joke: when they don't like someone, he's stupid. When they want to crack a joke about him, they ask, "Hey, isn't so-and-so stupid?" It's all they have.
And once again, Reiner opens his mouth and "removes all doubt".
* * *
Sure, why not? Let's pull all our troops out of the Philippines. All our money, too. See how well they do, then.
* * *
Well, today I get to cut the grass. Thrillsville!