Il pleut sur la ville...

... Comme il pleure dans mon coeur.

It's been raining a lot lately, perhaps more this year than any on record. Lake Hodges may overflow for the first time since 1998. And it was just at 15% capacity last year.

I intend to go to the writing class tomorrow, but will have to reassess the situation in the morning. This week only two stories were submitted--then a third was added at the last moment--illness and lethargy are taking their toll.

I have been asked to be a judge in the annual contest of the SDBAA. Free books to read! And a new role for me, which is something that I have background for as a trained critic. I am eagerly anticipating my shipment in the mail.

What else? Oh yeah, Shadows of Saturn rejected Europa's Children. I need to figure out where to send that story next. Got to keep things in circulation.

I watched the latest episode of Carnivale last night on HBO. Although I still really enjoy the series, I don't find it as intriguing or gripping as last season. Critics hated the ambiguity of last year and the creators strived to make a clearer-cut story line. But I found the essential ambiguity, the wandering through the metaphorical "black blizzard" to be at the heart of the series. The "heart of darkness" is a murky thing, not to be grasped easily. Unless you are George Bush, manichean to the core.

Tonight's reality fare: Fear Factor: Vegas. To be followed immediately by an episode of the fictional series, Vegas. What does it say about a country when its fastest growing city is a wasteland of fake monuments, gambling and prostitution? There are more programs about Las Vegas on TV now than about New York or LA. Why is the public so fascinated by the gaudy extravagance of that gaudy desert hole during a time when the moral mood of the country--at least the red states--seems to be slouching back to the primordial ooze of creationism, censorship and war?

That's a topic to be explored at length later. Back to reading for me.