(no subject)

I just hurt all over. Trying to remember if it hurt this bad in '72 and '84. Maybe, but I don't think so.

jennyo has a good post here on the need to keep fighting. Go read, if you're feeling despondent.

I posted last night that the people I felt sorriest for in this election were the traditional conservatives, and though my definition of who I feel sorriest for has expanded exponentially, still I think that long-term the Republicans have gotten themselves in a bad bind. This election really consummated their unholy marriage with the single-issue religious fundamentalists, which ought to scare the crap out of those Rep.s' who actually still believe in limiting governmental intrusion in the private sphere. And when the increasingly-unpayable bills for our foreign adventures come due, it'll be Bush&Co and the Rep.-dominated Congress that'll have to deal; with time, I think people might begin to suspect that a massive and growing deficit might just be a leetle more of a threat to the nation than, say, gay people wanting to get hitched.

Meanwhile: Patience. Stubbornness. Alliances. Communication. Tactical thinking. Refusal to give up. Fighting on in the dark times. All those things we fans admire in our heroes--we need to remember those now, and not just write stories about them. We gotta *be* our heroes. At the risk of being cheesy--are you ready to be strong?

(no subject)

One piece of local good news--Kerry not only took Minnesota, but had big coattails, with the Dems picking up 13 seats in the state House. There'll be a recount, but at this point the very thin continuing Republican majority in the legislature rests on 90 votes in one race.

This post is dedicated to everyone who's ever said, "Oh, heck, my vote doesn't count anyway." Ninety votes, people.

(no subject)

Think of this as "continuing the post-poetry-in-your-LJ meme" rather than "Kat spamming LJ madly 'cause christ knows she's not getting any work done today" --

To a Friend whose Work has come to Nothing

Now all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honour bred, with one
Who, were it proved he lies,
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbours' eyes?
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.

W.B. Yeats