Will's Good Idea for the Week of 10/26/25

Eat it, Canada. The Dodgers even the World Series at one game apiece. 

Sigh...the Jew haters keep showing up in our Substack feed. Last night it was a MAHA JFK Jr. guy. Yes, we're getting a lot of hate from the right these days. This includes Ron Paul types, John Mearsheimer fans, and at least one Christian Pastor (alleged we suppose). We don't engage, we just tell them they're gay and retarded, which we enjoy. Mrs. Stroock asks why we stay on Substack. Running away ain't the answer. Besides, we use these noobs to generate content in which we tell them they're gay and retarded. Even after we explain the strategy to them, these gay retards keep at it. 

An example of the bile spit at us, 'Meet Billy. Billy is a fat man and proud supporter of clear war crimes, crimes against humanity, apartheid, and genocide.' We're not posting the rest of that quote, as Mr. Annon Rando bravely accused us of the most heinous crimes. Anyway, we replied, 'I'm not fat,'* and posted this:

We took that Thursday. We look good, there's no getting around it (note the Mossad shirt, they're EVERYWHERE). Yesterday a friend commented that we looked like we lost some weight. Actually the scale says we're gaining. Nevertheless we're more svelte than we were in June. Our friend says so. We can feel it. And we can see it. Which seems counterintuitive as we've been hitting the sweets the last month or so. Mrs. Stroock does like her autumn baking. So that weight gain is muscle, right? 

Will's Good Idea for the Week of 10/26/25...alright, we're doing it. Looking over World War 1990: Thatcher's War yesterday, we saw that the MS through the battle of Derry is 55,000 words. That's 10,000 words short of a typical William Stroock novel. Maybe even 5,000 words. We're breaking the novel in two. It's the only way to do what we want to do. The three Derry chapters are the climax of the first novel. They're the A plot. We'll need a B plot. This may entail simply expanding an idea. Breaking TW in two allows us to concentrate on what we wanted to do all along: write a novel about the interesting idea of Britain invading Ireland. 

*You see, the joke is we glossed over the accusations of apartheid and genocide (thereby tacitly acknowledging them) and insisted being fat was the only accusation which isn't true. We first heard a version of this joke on Imus in the Morning in the late 90s':

Caller, 'You're a bald headed faggot'.

Imus, 'I'm not bald'.