Notices by Lili Saintcrow (lilithsaintcrow@raggedfeathers.com), page 2

Ah, I see the overwhelmingly billionaire-owned legacy media has shifted seamlessly from normalizing that orange blivet to begging for donations to "fight" him. Again.

You'd think they'd find a different scam, but "stick with what works", I guess.

@cstross Dare I say “it could have been worse”, or is that tempting Fate even more?

@cstross How's it feel to have been pasted by Apollo's red ball?

Going back to bed was the right choice but I need coffee too much to stay there.

Guess we’re up.

The people in my neighbourhood who cannot be trusted are advertising the fact loudly, with flags and signs. This is useful, even as I mourn.

@mcc This sounds like the best restaurant EVER and I hope you had a glorious meal.

A while lotta people have just shown exactly who they are. Believe them, and act accordingly.

Do not carry water for the bigots, racists, and fascists in your life. Do not excuse their actions. Do not invite them into your home or your head or your heart. Do not trust them.

They have shown us who they are.

"But La Jeteé, which inspired it, stands as the more impressive cinematic achievement, despite — or perhaps owing to — its being a black-and-white short composed almost entirely of still photographs."
https://www.openculture.com/2024/11/how-the-influential-time-travel-movie-la-jetee-was-made-almost-entirely-out-of-still-photographs.html

HELL'S ACRE just released yesterday--assassins, secret identities, a Victorian London where Rome never fell. I had a LOT of fun with this one. https://www.lilithsaintcrow.com/2024/10/release-day-hells-acre/

Seriously, folks. The late-stage "AI" grifters are searching for any--ANY--legitimacy to cover their naked greed and desperation.

Don't let them use your hard-won standing and reputation. The stain of collaboration with the mass theft and ecological destruction will stick.

Candy bowl refilled, second jolt of coffee doctored, necklace repaired, sewing kit found, comforter mended.

Not a bad half-hour's effort, really. Nerves are mounting for tomorrow's release...

One of Boxnoggin's favourite games is catching crusts. The dog simply loves carbs, and lives for the rare moment a bit of toasted sourdough is granted him.

Unfortunately, he is absolutely the worst creature this game has ever seen. But today...oh, today, he surpassed himself.

I had a bit of toast to make the afternoon go by a little more smoothly, and Boxnoggin made the supreme sacrifice of heaving himself off my bed to trot into the office, begging very hard for a moiety.

My heart is not yet completely hardened, friends. He won me over. I tore off a small bit.

Now, part of Boxnoggin's training is that he must be mannerly about such things. He obeyed the usual Toast Ritual, and I gave the bit of crust a lovely, easy lob, trackable from the moment it left my fingers.

Or it would have been, if he'd made any move to catch it.

I love this dog, but he is dim.

Alas! Tragedy! Poor Boxnoggin! A fragment of sourdough bounced off his nose before he realized it was airborne.

(Look, the dog gets a "one... two... three..."! Plenty of warning! He WATCHED me all through the ritual!)

(He can't dereference a pointer either.)

Anyway, he watched the toast until it bounced off his nose. Then it fell earthward. Boxnoggin leapt up and began searching, by turning in a complete circle and snuffling everywhere...

...save the one piece of floor where he had watched the toast land.

Now, I never let him flounder, but I *do* admit I was laughing as I got up from the desk chair to point out the prize to him.

Box has one other habit. Whenever he is perturbed, in despair, or in any kind of confusion at all... he sits. Just plops right down and waits for me to sort things out.

Honestly, 99.999% of the time, this is for the best.

This time, however, he got confused and sent his hiney to the floor--oh, you've guessed it, haven't you?

Yes. RIGHT on the piece of toast.

You have not lived, my darlings, until you have tried to shift a muscle-heavy dog off the (sadly battered) piece of toast he expects you to magically produce, since after all you are His Human and would never be so cruel as to deprive him of the treat once it has been sighted.