Old Lions, Fresh Solstice

Not to take issue with Chris Zimmer, since she and I have different agendas, but I give SVU's writers credit for reminding us that adjudication doesn't rectify the hidden costs of our scars. It may have been a soft boiled episode, but Hargitay and Vassilieva brought it home, recapping the earlier story lines. I am soft on Dick Wolf, meaning I forgive what Zimmer opines as tepid, out of familiar reassurance, and I can assure you I don't enjoy rolling off my daybed feeling revictimized every day, but the hardest thing to expurgate from disability activism is the internecine cruelty embedded within it.

In 2002, right around the time I was exiled from the Poets & Writers community, Septa CCT instituted restricted eligibility, and it has been like a Jamesian turn of the screw ever since. There are things I have not discussed about service providers and threats to my survival, items I've held back, attempting to avoid certain stereotypical aspects, and I do not always succeed. If I accuse Philadelphia's spina bifida loud mouth of tunnel vision, I am not so far behind strumming cat guts with a bow.

Reinvention is a difficult task when the environment in which it needs to be done is one you never wanted in the first place that holds so much baggage, more damage than pleasure, and little that is fresh, invigorating. Risk adverse to another failure due to productive decline, I have little desire to utilize the campus of my alma mater; it is older than old. I want to let it go, be rid of the whole city with its inability to govern itself, although these days that is apparently a bicoastal affliction.

I can't work this morning. Post-a-vent yes, slight revising, waiting for one of Anthony Perkin's last films. Another Lovecraft variation, maybe I should pack it in now, resign myself to Inglis House, death industry bar none. In a few years, my lateral transfer skills will be more difficult. I will be off Blogger more than likely, barring a Google Amazon takeover of independent living itself, which I'd support. So many limits, so few choices, and Linda will go on, no matter. Gutting subordinates is often its own reward. I am going to bed.