I'm not going to waste a good song lyric on this.

 I shut down today, which is sort of a shame because it was a lovely day. A bit too warm, but nice enough under the fan on the front porch. In any event, I wanted no part of it. The blues has a tight hold on me and I couldn't tell you why. It's been a thing for the past couple of days, itself coming off at least two weeks of being grumpy and gloomy in general. Today was just the limit.

 So I kept away from things as much as possible and really have no desire to stay awake or involved. Nothing has any joy or taste to it, I just see things I ought to do or should do or have no reason not to do, but none of them I want to do.

 That means this will be entirely skippable, a minor piece in the Matt Thompson cannon, and mostly bellyaching. I think the main reason I'm so put out is the psychic feedback from the Supreme Court's decision on the marijuana initiative two weeks ago. Sure, it bums me out that I won't be able to get ahold of medical-grade weed. That is a drag and I am desperate to get my head bad.

 But what really gets up my nose is the outright contempt the state is showing the residents. Over three-fourths of the voters - more people than voted for Trump or Cindy Hyde-Smith - approved this initiative, and the Supreme Court kills it on an unnecessary technicality because some bougie white-flight mayor wouldn't get her taste of the profits.

 That and the move by conservative state governments going out of their way to make voting more difficult than it needs to be for no real good reason. Or the bougie honky freakout over Critical Race Theory, which seems to boil down to little more than white folks not wanting to acknowledge we're not the heirs of Jesus we like to pretend we are. Plus, it's just too damn hot.

 I'm already tired of writing about this or, for that matter, writing about anything. I'm about three-fourths into Dragon Age: Origins and have once again hit a point of politics to slow me down. I just want to kill undead monsters, is that too much to ask? I'm still fighting my way through the Judge Severvus book and The Network of Time. There's nothing wrong with either, though the prose in the Severus book is sort of limp and the science book has the same problem all pop-science books have (three-fourths quantum physics catch-up, one-fourths the whole point of the book).

 Shit, I still have about sixty words to get through. Well, I have another harmonica coming. For whatever reason, these expensive harps - the Marine Band, the Suzuki, the Lee Oskar - all seem to have funky reeds on the second hole. Either the draw or the blow or both, it sounds flat. This has always been a problem, though, even 20 years ago when I was playing out regularly. I can't do anything about the Marine Band but I guess I could do maintenance on the others. Perhaps I should spring for a tiny screwdriver or see if Daddy has one somewhere. Daddy was big on tools and we still have a shit-ton of them.

 Anyway. That's word count. Stay frosty, neighbors.