the phone call

the bastard had a long week.

work has had me out late.

which makes for late dinner.

which makes for late everything else.

which makes for late bedtimes.

which leads to a good old fashioned trucking. and the bastard is trucked.

yesterday morning, the editor came by (we talk industry gossip) and asks me, "have you heard?"

"they fired the old war horse...our evil ant overlords did it over the phone"

he didn't look happy. hell the editor looked righteously affronted. and why wouldn't he. the old war horse was in the biz for 20 plus years. he was in charge of many things that were not near the bastard. like the editor, he had been through many sales. many changes of leadership. and our evil ant overlords couldn't even give him the courtesy of a personal appearance.

the bastard is a little worried these days. the new heads of state treat this new purchase with such disdain. the people who have built it with such disdain. i find it worrying. blood will flow here. real soon. and good people will leave or be carried out like so much cord wood.

christmas time is always bad in publishing. uit always seems like the time where people lose their jobs. it's a shame that what has been forced down our throats as the happiest time of the year, is always in fact, the saddest. i'm gonna keep my head down. and do the damn job.

—the bastard