収束ゾーンでのライフ: Life in the Convergence Zone

Before things get a lot worse, which it looks like they’re about to do given Trump’s “full force” order and his “anti-fascism is terrorism” executive memo, I need to reiterate:

It’s lies. This shit about Portland? It’s all lies.

The lies about Seattle were lies too. Particularly reviving the old lie that “they” “took over a significant percentage of the city” back in 2020. Remember when I posted a map showing the three blocks and a park that were the entire protest zone? And how it was 0.0something percent of the city? How it was basically the equivalent of a guy and a yappy dog on the corner of a Walmart parking lot, and how on a full map of the city the red rectangle was literally too small to see?

Remember that?

It’s lies about Portland now. I know people in Portland. I know people who are in Portland RIGHT NOW, for the weekend.

It. Is. All. Lies.

If you don’t believe me, believe Tess Vigeland, a Wall Street Journal senior producer who lives in Portland. The Wall Street Journal is not exactly a “left” publication and doesn’t exactly employ “radical leftists.” I quote her here in entirety:

“He is lying. They are lying. They are literally making this shit up. I live four blocks from the ICE facility they say is a “war zone.” I pass it every single day on my way home. There are, on average, maybe 30 protesters who’ve camped out (they have a small grill) and set up tents. Sometimes more show up on the weekend. They use bullhorns to shout invective at the building and it’s been awful for the residents who live across the street and noise laws should be enforced. But the notion that this city of 600,000 people is a war zone is completely laughable. CNN has a photo from September 1st on its story about this that makes it seem like the city is, indeed, under siege (and that’s part of the problem, images that don’t tell a complete story). But the idea that they needed that kind of show of force is insane. Would I like the protesters to go away? As a neighbor, yup. Do they have the right to set up a tent city outside the facility? Probably — but again, it’s annoying. Does Portland have myriad problems that a maddeningly ineffective local government seems unable to solve no matter how much tax money we throw at it? Yup. But does any of it call for federal troops fanning out across the city? Absolutely not. It’s stupid. This is all for show by an authoritarian administration that knows its base will applaud because oooooh lookie a liberal city getting its due. (I have relatives who will applaud this, by the way.) But they’re lying. They’re all LYING.”

Tess Vigeland, The Wall Street Journal

If you don’t believe her? There are plenty of webcams. Here’s Pioneer Square in downtown Portland as I write this right now:

I won’t even point you to more webcams. Use DuckDuckGo or something. Find them on your own. It’s easy.

Find any cam you want. Look at them for yourself. Tell any Trumpy relatives you have to do the same thing. Look. See.

They. Are. All. Lying.

Posted via Solarbird{y|z|yz}, Collected.

I was in Oregon, in the totality zone, for the eclipse; this is more or less my trip report, written as fiction in the Fear of Spiders/Overwatch universe. The eclipse really was indescribable - you have to be there - but this is my best attempt to relate what I saw and how I felt.

All the locations are real world locations, accurately described, and specifically relate how I got down to Shiniko, Oregon for the totality, and back, after crossing the Oregon border from the north. All of Venom's and Widowmaker's lines are basically my commentary while being the one driving... inappropriately quickly... with my road trip crew down a surprisingly empty Highway 216.

[AO3 link]

"I loved it," said the Widowmaker, her voice fluid, "when the spider ate the sun. Slowly dimming light, then sunset all around, in all directions, and then - gone, but for the corona. Exquisite."

"That was wizard!" agreed Venom, speeding along Highway 216 west from Highway 97 to Highway 197 in the Oregon high desert. "The sky went violet! Blue, dark, rich, with extra violet, somehow. The pictures always made it look black, but it wasn't! So intense!"

"I think that was partly ultraviolet, from the corona," suggested the elder assassin, as the old-style automobile - a Spider, appropriately enough - barrelled down the road into the canyon, chasing the water. The speed limit sign said 55kph. She hit it at 120. "The light had such intoxicating depth."

"Felt like time just stopped! And I know from time." She giggled at little at herself, and shook her head. "Pictures just can't tell the story, can they?" said Lena.

"Not at all. One cannot even describe it, one must experience it. The changes in the air, the blue and violet glow, the heat vanishing with the sun..."

"And then, and then, the last bit of the sun goes out, and you look past the glasses, and - wow! The sun is, like, whole different star! And the sky is a different sky! It was like - it was like bein' in space, like being on a whole 'nother world!"

"The black hole sun, the streaming flares of fusing hydrogen writhing in the sky, the glowing colours - I never imagined the colours would be so intense." She sighed, wistfully. "I do not think my cameras captured the violet, only the blue."

The tires screeched at the first downhill hairpin turn. The road carried with it no forgiveness, no margin - cliff wall to one side, sheer drop to the other. A few guardrails buffered against the worst of the turns, or, at least, the first couple, and then not the next, and not the one after that. The Spider held the road, if barely, as the Talon assassins drifted in their vehicle, across the road, into the opposite-direction lane.

"I remind you," said Amélie, "despite having applied to the Commonwealth, this country is still right-hand driving."

"Yeh, yeh. Curve speed signs are for wankers."

Widowmaker smirked. "That one, if anything, seemed overly permissive."

The junior assassin slowed the vehicle, but not much, and sped it back up at every opportunity. "Nobody's usin' the other lane, I might as well."

It was true. Even with the tens of thousands of tourists flooding back from the zone of totality, Highway 216 sat empty of traffic, out in the high grassy desert, barreling down towards the Deschutes River, splashing and rushing at the very bottom.

"Even so," said the spider, "this road does not seem very forgiving."

Venom chuckled, and hit the accelerator again. "Feeling nervous, love?"

"Feeling impressed that the Cascadians do not seem to care about guard rails, perhaps." The car's right mirror - still just within its lane - came within a few centimetres of the cliff wall. "Or margins for error." She looked out over the cliff the road hugged. "This countryside - it is almost painfully beautiful."

Off to the left, a series of canyons, or one long, split canyon, almost cartoonish in perfection, stepped down towards the water, a mix of steep rocky slopes and bare basalt column cliffs, volcanic, spotted with the occasional first-coloniser plants, mostly gold, some auburn, some ash, and, almost inexplicably, splashes of dark, vivid green, the green becoming dominant the further down towards the river, but really, anywhere water might run or pool or even be slowed down, even a bit, for the thirsty plants to grab it up.

"Whole bleedin' country's a bunch of picture postcards, innit?"

"Truly."

"Glad they had the sense not to muss up the view with fences." Venom floored the antique Sypder into the next hairpin curve, not quite fishtailing, not quite sliding away and to oblivion. "I can't believe we're the only ones on this road. Look at what they're missing!"

"It's not the eclipse, but it is fascinating. Perhaps the tourists are afraid of the heights," said the spider.

"You mean, it's just us 'cause they're too scared?"

"And therefore, do not deserve to see this."

"Fair cop," said the younger assassin. "Woah!" she said, surprised by the severity of yet another hairpin. "That was a tight one!"

"Be careful, we cannot crash this vehicle here - we might start a fire."

"Blimey, that'd be a right cock-up," the junior assassin replied in all sincerity. "They have fires all summer already, don't they?"

"It seems so," the senior assassin said, gesturing back towards a burnt out patch they'd driven by, some 30km before.

"Well, good thing we've got that car park all lined up."

"Indeed. Just be sure not to hit the river. Fish and gasoline do not mix."

"Easy peasy. Reach 'round, pull the body forward, will ya?"

"Certainly."

She pulled the middle-aged man forward, from the - well, it wasn't really the boot, not one worthy of the name, not in an F430 - and propped him up against the centre console, between their individual seats.

The Ferrari flew over the first river bridge, as Venom let the engine really open up. "May as well go out in a blaze of glory, y'big ugly monster," she said, made the final turn at a desperately dangerous 220kph. "Good handling, I'll give you that. Right! Whenever you're ready, love..."

"Grab hold, cherie, and ready your grapple," the Widowmaker said, grabbing her lover and launching the two of them out of the automobile. Venom kicked the wheel hard to the right, and the Spider flipped over, briefly flying, then bouncing down the road, hitting once, twice, a third time, and skidding into a gravel parking lot before bursting into flame. Widowmaker's chain retracted, pulling the two Talon agents high into the air, and just short of apogee, Venom launched her chain, and up they went again, a second arc, and again, at apogee, Widowmaker's grapple made the top of the butte, where their ship sat, concealed, and waiting.

From atop their high vantage point, they could see the local wardens rushing forward with emergency fire suppression, the wreckage of the convertible already burning itself out, the body of Roger Müller - well-known multi-millionaire playboy and less-well-known deep financier of ultra-nationalist media and neofascist politicians - already well-crisped. His remains would show a blood alcohol content well above 0.17, over twice the legal limit, but entirely in character.

"And that's why y'don't drive pissed." Venom said to her partner, cheerfully.

"That was magnificent."

"Such a shame when people overindulge, innit, love?"

Widowmaker spun on her lover, pulling her abruptly, roughly, against her own body, eyes wide and open. "Yes. Let's balance it by overindulging ourselves."

Venom shuddered with quick arousal. "Fast cars and fast kills? I like the way you think, sweet. But let's move the..."

"Now."

"So now I'm the sensible unf " - she said, as Widowmaker bit into her neck - "...we can't stay here, love. Somewhere else. The way we went south. Nobody's on that road, either."

"Fine. Bakeoven, then. How quickly can you fly us back?"

"You just saw how quick I got us here in an antique, didn't ya?"

"Point made. Go."

Where have I been?

• South of the 45th Parallel.
• Eating hot dogs with racecar driver Ed and his partner Nancy at a rest stop
• Safe and sound in Eugene ensconsed with Andra and Sandra and Jana! who are awesome for putting me up and up with me. Thanks so much! ^_^
• Redmond, Oregon, which had an obelisk and also high winds cancelling the event I was playing! After I got there, just before my showtime. Everybody left. But a bunch of kids came out to play in the amphitheatre fountain, so I thought, “Y’know what? The amphitheatre isn’t leaving due to wind, and these kids aren’t either, so neither am I.” And I played a free gig for a big ol’ gaggle of children, who came up after and gave me their pennies, and I gave them stickers, and we all had a good time. Take that, wind!
• Nomming Mexican food in the Oregon high desert town of Burns, with Fred! Yay! Thanks, Fred! More people should go visit Fred in Burns. He’s an archeologist!
• Glass Butte, which pretty much just handed me obsidian. Glass Butte does not lie. Also, there are elk.
• Being ambushed by a river spirit. Or possibly wind. But I prefer the former.
• Government Camp Lift and Mt. Hood, with chipmunks.
• Through the remnants of Highway 99 in northern Oregon, along with a bunch of other old, twisty roads, the best kinds.

Where’m I now?

• Back in Kenmore, Washington, tired but happy, for SEKRIT MEETINGS (disclaimer: not actually sekrit) and a Juanita Bay gig at 5pm on Friday.

More on that tomorrow. Now, I sleep.

Mirrored from Crime and the Blog of Evil.

Well, that was fun! Gave out lots of cards, Anna sold CDs and sang along a couple of tracks, I talked to a lot of people – I got compliments on my voice, which is a new and awesome thing to be getting, and several people grabbed me after the show to say nice things, too. Thanks for having me, Inger and Tone! See you next year. ^_^

NEXT SHOW: July 12th, 2010: Centennial Park Amphitheatre in Redmond, Oregon; 1pm-2:45pm. The venue’s new, and supposed to look something like this:

Mirrored from Crime and the Blog of Evil.