A good Tuesday morning to Stroock's Books reader(s) wherever they may roam. We've noticed of late that the sun is up earlier and down later. A good thing. We hope Trump will ban the nation's gay and retarded daylight-savings time system. Looks like Wednesday's blizzard has been cancelled.
On Twitter, Andrew Fox explains that Israel has won a great victory against Hamas. He agrees with Stroock's Books that occupying Gaza is sheer stupidity. Frankly it staggers Stroock's Books imagination that anyone would want to stay in Gaza. Learn to recognize victory, and learn to take the W, people. Related, Israel Radar asks, 'War with Hezbollah was not a surprise, but blowing up Hezbollah’s pagers was totally unexpected. Is Israel preparing surprises for Iran’s nuclear project?' What if the imams are right?
Hot Air notices that the Germans are pussies now. Given German history, this is probably for the best. Look at them cry and then hold emergency meetings at Versailles, all because a hillbilly from Ohio said a few mean things to them. No wonder Putin thought he could get away with invading Ukraine.
This blog is going to be brutally honest with the Euro funboys. You fucking people don't exactly have the best diplomatic track record the last century or so, do you? You blundered into WWI, effed up the peace at Versailles (why you people insist on holding big conferences there is beyond us) and then blundered into WWII. You could only put your Common Market and EU together while living under American protection. After the Cold War you couldn't stop the slaughter in Yugoslavia. You couldn't stop Putin from invading Ukraine, and you can't stop the fighting now. To paraphrase former New Jersey governor Chris Christie, the Europeans suck.
FB tells us five years ago we were posting about having run four miles in an hour. Ah, in many ways we miss that. In many other ways we don't have the mental stamina. Physically we can still make our body do whatever we want. But running an hour requires a huge mental commitment and we just don't want to mentally commit any more. Related, that bro was back at the gym, taking off his shirt and flexing for the mirrors. We applauded, we admit.
Yesterday we wrote another scene in the Battle of Waterside and went over what we've already written.
We also noticed a problem. Right now we've got a lot of half soused Catholics and prods running around Derry taking potshots at one another. Is this a World War 1990 novel or some parochial tale of Irish gloom? For the Derry chapter to be really interesting, and to have real stakes, said storyline must needs be embiggened*. We approach this task with...great fear and trepidation. In fact the more we write about Derry, Ireland, and the Troubles, the more we fear and trepidate.**
We're going to write what we want to happen, and then go back and lay the groundwork for it making sense, if reader(s) know what we mean. Exit question: what if the solution to this problem is the exact opposite of what's been proposed?
*We are surprised to learn embiggened is actually a word.
**Spell check doesn't think trepidate is a word but the rest of the internet does.
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