[Photo above: "There's probably no god, now stop worrying and enjoy your life." —This advertisement was briefly emblazoned on city buses in a suburb of Vancouver a couple of years ago. Apparently there were complaints(?!) and it was pulled from circulation, but still. EPIC WIN.]

After a mentally exhausting week at work, this seems like an excellent time to rummage through the old Pinklog and steal from myself. Fortunately, I’ve been collecting facts that blow my mind for about 25 years now, so the well is pretty deep.

I originally published this list of lists in December 2017. I’ve been doing year-end roundups for a looong time! Some of these things have aged better than others, but shockingly, some are even more relevant now… And the ones that aren’t, are just plain hilarious to read in 2026. (“How to set up outlook 2010 IMAP email account with existing pst data file,” I’m looking at you!)

So, without any further disclaimers, let’s dive right into the funniest, most anachronistic list of all…

Funniest Google Searches in My Browser History 2017

If it’s not linked, it means I didn’t find what I was looking for.

1. how to set up outlook 2010 IMAP email account with existing pst data file (This marked a low point in the month-long process of reinstalling everything in the wake of a catastrophic failure/BSOD-run-amok/system wipe of my laptop in May. Shout-out to Mr. Pink AKA in-house tech support/sysadmin/network ninja.)

2. how to care for aeonium succulents indoors (answer: nobody fucking knows)

3. why is my laptop making a noise like a stationary bicycle (Yes, after the failure. LOL/CRY)

4. vancouver sun newspaper front page photo 1999 capilano suspension bridge baby

5. jim cummins braineater painting aliens (Yes, motherfucking still.) Note from 2026: I still can’t find that painting, and I’ve been periodically searching the internet going on two decades. The story is, back in 1998, I saw a painting for sale in an art gallery—for $250 I think, which makes the fact that I didn’t just buy it then SO much worse, but hey, that was a lot more money to me back then…

Anyway, it was this huge abstract futuristic cityscape with a couple of blockhead-shaped aliens in between the buildings, and a caption overlaid that said something like, “Now Braineater Knew… Not. Alone.” If by some miracle anyone reading this has any knowledge of this painting, I desperately want it!

6. wall centre penthouse red lights Vancouver (Google didn’t help; binoculars did. It was just a party.)

7. Women in Refrigerators

8. Fran Lebowitz quote children are sticky

9. innovative sadistic bicycle theft prevention devices (I don’t even own a bike. I just love this idea of booby-trapping/rigging up a theft-protection device designed not to deter (because nothing does), but to gravely injure or maim a perpetrator who tries to remove the lock or carry the bike away—something like a chain lock wrapped in razor wire or a seat that the owner, when leaving the bike unattended, could easily replace with a long, sharpened spike to deter (or emasculate) any unauthorized riders. Can you dig it?)

10. amazing ad exec objective statement html5 more less confident (I will never fucking know where I found this site, but it was amazing. Sigh...)

11. how did pirates keep their flags and sails black (again, no good results found)

Five Things that Blew My Mind in 2017

1. Lemming mass suicide is a pernicious myth, perpetuated by the horrifically unethical producers of a 1970s nature doc called “White Wilderness.” A Disney nature doc... Shame. Shame.

2. Harvey Weinstein? Harvey Fierstein? Two totally different people. Apparently I’m not alone in this.

3. Wealth inequality has increased dramatically over the last 30 years, with median white household wealth nearly 10 times that of median black and Latino households.

4. When typing emoticons/emojis, men tend to add a nose :-) while women do not ;) and there are major differences between eastern and western interpretations of facial features. Table flip is by far my favorite emoticon now. (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

5. Voyager 1 just fired its trajectory thrusters for the first time since 1980

6. This entire interview between Joe Rogan and world-renowned mycologist (or “mushroom doctor,” as they’d call him if he was a character on “Zoo”) Paul Stamets is just one mind-blowing revelation after another.

Worst Idea of 2017

How to pick just one..?? But let’s just start with Lyrebird, the evaluation demo app brought to you by the same folks who inflicted Facebook and Twitter on us. The app records one minute of a user’s voice and uses it to create a “Digital Voice” which can be used for any number of purposes, e.g., reading audiobooks or “tweets” out loud, creating a video game avatar with your voice or—and this is from their FAQs—”Freeze movie actor’s voices to make them available forever even if they age or die.”

Yeah... there’s nothing creepy AF about that. I bet they wish they’d invented it in time to vocally clone Humphrey Bogart, Orson Welles and—aww, Jimmy Stewart. (Have they considered the implications for voice impressionists? Here we go—AI is stealing all the good jobs.) Note from 2026: Yiiiiiikes!!

Some technologies are just so batshit and ripe for abuse, their creators are at a loss when tasked with setting the public’s fears to rest, that they end up saying things like this on their “Ethics” pages: “Imagine that we had decided not to release this technology at all. Others would develop it and who knows if their intentions would be as sincere as ours.” Well shit, since you put it that way.

Best TV Shows of 2017

Game of Thrones (It’s like with The Wire. Everyone recommended it to us for so long and we were always like, Look, we tried watching the first episode. We get it— beheadings, incest, fancy dresses, it’s just not really our thing. Well. We gave it another try this summer and—okay, fiiiiiine. Yes, yes, we love it already. You can go ahead with your season 7 spoilers........ wait... Okay, now. Sigh... ugh, I miss it already.)

1. Mindhunter

2. Legion

This show is so weird and great, it’s like someone bet the showrunner he couldn’t spin an entire series out of the epic YouTube parody, What if Wes Anderson Directed The X-Men? Only he got the last laugh because Legion is fucking awesome. It also felt somehow more like my experience of reading Marvel comics as a kid/teenager than most of the movies that have been made about my favorite characters—with the exception, of course, of Logan (maybe it’s all those consonants they have in common).

Speaking of Marvel characters I enjoyed as a teenager but never thought I’d see onscreen (no, not Dazzler—the reason we won’t see that onscreen is—well, are twofold. One, they would probably feel the need to modernize her and I don’t have to tell you how much that would suck, unless they made her sort of an early Lady Gaga-style performance artist. (Hmm, actually...) and two, guys roughly my age are running Hollywood right now and every guy my age thought Dazzler was stupid.)

Note from 2026: This Begins a Loooong Digression about Cloak & Dagger (in case anyone doubts my nerd credentials!)

Anyway, earlier this year I somehow stumbled across the news that a Cloak & Dagger series is actually in development. Part of me (my inner 12 year old) was like <screech> OMG!! But the other part—the part that watched every episode of Iron Fist and 13 Reasons this year—is dreading the almost certain train wreck this story in particular could be in the wrong hands. It all depends on who’s in charge and what message they decide will make Cloak & Dagger relevant and appropriate for the kids of 2018.

And we have zero reasons to be optimistic about that. I mean, nostalgia aside, 1980s Cloak & Dagger was a 4-issue miniseries about two painfully two dimensional characters whose mutant powers are basically shorthand racial stereotypes. Tandy is rich and white with a neglectful father and Tyrone is poor and black but sweet—with a stutter (but wait, it gets better!).

Through a series of unlucky accidents and foolish decisions, they end up meeting in a meat-packing district warehouse, where they’ve been kidnapped and injected with massive doses of some experimental drug by a shadowy cabal of evil men. Other unlucky teens are dying grisly, drug-induced deaths all around them, and soon they’re the only survivors.

The drugs that killed the others trigger their latent mutant abilities which, through fate or happy accident, somehow mirror each other’s in what kids today would call a kind of ultra-racially problematic symbiosis.

They manage to escape, swimming across the toxic wastewaters of the East River to safety, only to find that they can no longer return to their old lives. Their mutant powers make them effectively inseparable—in Tyrone’s case anyway, because being apart from her for any length of time results in painful and increasingly dangerous withdrawal symptoms.

She can generate daggers of light that either kill, maim or heal (him anyway), depending on what the situation calls for. He can transport himself, her and others within the fabric of his... uh, well, it’s a big, black and blue striped blanket he found lying around the warehouse and wrapped himself in it the night they were kidnapped? Now he and it are inseparable and it’s the magical portal he uses to teleport around the globe and absorb bad guys—I mean, he just wraps them in it and they disappear, forever.

No one knows where they go, not even him. Is his body like a Portal ™ or Hell Mouth or gateway to Limbo or Purgatory or some other dimension where bad people go to be punished? Is he the Devil? He seems to think so, since of course he’s one of a handful of inconveniently religious members of the Marvel Universe (see also Wolfsbane, Daredevil and Nightcrawler). Oh yeah, and then there’s her costume. Not even going to go there.

So they’re symbiotically bonded and teenage, so that’s awkward, but not as much as you’d think. In real life, they’d probably just spend the next decade locked in a bedroom somewhere, but this is Marvel in the 80s, so of course he falls in love with her, but she not so much with him. (Sigh.)

They’re stuck with each other, though, because they’re equally confused, alienated, emotionally stunted and damaged, and they pretty much stopped developing in any dimension that might make them interesting the night they got their powers.

Over the next 30 years or so, they continued to pop up here and there to help Spider-Man or the X-Men save the day and then when they were asked to stick around, they’d give some lame speech about how they’re “not heroes” before teleporting away to not have sex with each other. (Sigh.)

So, yeah... the only thing worse than a horribly Nerfed™ Cloak & Dagger might just be a completely faithful rendering. I mean, how do you even craft plausible backstories in 2018 to set in motion the kidnapping, drug dealing, addiction, human trafficking and shadowy government experiments on society’s disposable underclass? I guess you set it in 1984 like Stranger Things.

3. Better Call Saul
4. American Gods
5. Fargo

6. Narcos (The best entry in Netflix’s endless roster of Pablo Escobar-related original programming co-stars Oberyn Martell (aww, yeah—shout out to those of you who know!) and his fabulous Burt Reynolds/Simon & Simon mustache. Benedict Cumberbatch can take a break now. I want to see Pedro Pascal cast in literally everything for the next ten years.) Note from 2026: Holy shit, that worked out well! What should I wish for next?!
7. iZombie
8. Ozark (Netflix proves once again that their algorithm-to-table creation formula still works!)
9. GLOW
10. Taboo
11. Wanted (AUS)
12. Stranger Things
13. Fear the Walking Dead (for the first half of season3, it was so much better than The Walking Dead... and then... well, it is The Walking Dead, so we’re used to this.)
14. The Crown
15. The Keepers (Netflix documentary series)

Best Video Games I Played in 2017

I probably played more video games this year than ever before—which is fitting for a year that literally began with my sudden realization last Christmas that a new Telltale Walking Dead game was probably due out soon. Seconds later, I discovered via Telltale’s twitter account that the new season was indeed due THE NEXT DAY—but only for Xbox One, which we hadn’t yet bothered to upgrade to.

Cut to: me 10 seconds later, flying into the living room, breathlessly shoving my laptop in front of Mr. Pink, the twitter post center-screen, repeating “we have to get an Xbox One” over and over until he finally grasped the meaning of the words coming out of my mouth.

So here are my top five games played this year...

5. Oxenfree (Night School Studio)

This supernatural teenage adventure/mystery game felt more true to my teenage interactions than any other game or TV show that’s attempted to trigger the same nostalgia. Imagine “Stand by Me” or “The Goonies” with a female lead, or “Stranger Things” without Eleven (though that would be a sad, sad Stranger Things indeed).

Anyway, the dialog feels real and the characters seem familiar. Even the plot is weirdly nostalgic—a group of friends plan a weekend camping party on an abandoned island, where supernatural mysteries and existential fuckery ensue, accompanied by the expected interpersonal drama and hair-trigger loyalty-switching we all knew and loved in high school.

The repetition of running and climbing all over the quasi-arcade style 2D+ map or whatever they call it is occasionally tedious, but the eerie island is full of interesting details and every screen is beautifully rendered.

Dialog is half the battle, just like in a Telltale Game, but the rhythm and pacing of conversation is totally different, more natural, e.g., you can interrupt and talk over each other if you want to. I didn’t test it thoroughly, but it seemed like the more you did it, your interactions with that character actually changed, so how and when you speak have as much impact as what you actually say. The quality of your relationships, of course, factor heavily into the final outcome of the game, as much as your concrete decisions and actions.

4. What Remains of Edith Finch (Giant Sparrow)

This is one of the most original games I’ve ever seen, basically a quasi “open world” where a young woman, the last living member of a large family, returns to her childhood home to unearth the life/death stories of her family members. You walk the grounds of the sprawling house—kind of a whimsical, Pacific Northwest version of the Winchester Mystery House—and you know that every tale ends in tragedy, so it’s not a rescue mission—you’re just there for closure.

The most memorable thing about this game is the house itself—an incredible labyrinth of rooms lined with bookshelves and picture windows, hidden ladders and secret passageways. Every inch of wall space is covered with framed photos, posters, artwork, instruments, toys and other memorabilia mirroring the personalities of the house’s former inhabitants.

Something about it feels familiar in a weird, subliminal way, like that scene in Dreamcatcher (shout out to the 12 people who’ve seen it) where you see the guy’s mental library and it’s this incredibly elaborate crowded spiral tower lined with bookshelves and filing cabinets and secret side rooms (and if you’re like me, but the version that could stand to live in the country, it starts to look like the perfect fixer-upper with enough space for you and all your friends and family to live happily ever after... You know, if it wasn’t, like, cursed).

My favorite room was one shared by two young brothers; one half decorated in a space theme and the other like the tree fort of a boy scout or army ranger. The room is divided down the middle with a velvet museum rope, with built-in staircases traversing behind each bed leading to separate lookout towers. One looks like a log tree house and the other like the control panel of a space capsule. You can imagine the two boys facing off, crouched in their separate towers, each in their own fantasy, but playing together.

Some of the stories are brief and poignant, others maddeningly repetitive—like life, I suppose. Each story takes you into a game-within-a-game where the dynamics, controls and objectives are totally different. In one, you climb out a bedroom window onto the branches of a tree to chase a bird. The object of the game takes a darker turn once you catch it. In the most frustrating chapter, you’re a toddler in the bath and your mother leaves the room to answer the phone; you can’t stand up or move on your own.

You pull both triggers and mash all the buttons on your controller trying to figure out what will hasten your escape, growing ever-more impatient to bring about the little fucker’s watery demise already. After 20 minutes of ineffectual splashing, I finally gave up and started fresh the next day.

In the end, I’m not sure what the point of the game was, or even if it was genuinely fun... There are even a couple of mysteries teased throughout the game only to be yanked away before we can discover the truth behind them. (The game developer has said he doesn’t think video games are the proper medium for telling narrative stories.) But as an experiment in disorientation and for the sheer weirdness and beauty of the visuals, it’s definitely worth the day or two it takes to play it.

3. Game of Thrones (Telltale Games)

Playing this game is a lot like watching Game of Thrones in that major characters can die gruesomely at any moment. Replay from the start of the chapter as often as you like, there’s nothing you can do about it. Of the five members of the fictional “Forrester” clan you play in this game, the one I found the most tense was the young girl who’s a handmaid to Margaery Tyrell at King’s Landing.

Trying to navigate the backstabbing, treacherous politics of life at court, being polite to everyone without getting caught between two competing egos, and sucking up enough (but without arousing suspicion) to both Margaery and Circe (often at the same time!), all while trying to subtly promote your family’s business interests so they don’t lose their lands (and probably lives), all without trusting the wrong man’s offer to help and getting yourself beheaded.

I played through her final chapter three times and never made it out with my head attached. When you’re watching the show, your favorite character might have their head crushed by a zombie knight, but at least you never have to make a final life or death decision between two characters you’ve grown attached to. That’s a special gift that only Telltale Games can deliver.

2. The Walking Dead, Season 3 (Telltale Games)

It took us halfway into the second chapter to come to terms with the fact that Clementine is not a playable character, except in a couple of brief flashbacks where you learn the unfortunate events that took place after Season Two, depending on whether you ended up with Kenny or Jane or alone in the wilderness with baby Alvin.

The new characters are interesting and their (inevitable?) ;) deaths are tragic, but season three didn’t come close to provoking the kind of emotional attachment and devastation the first two seasons have become famous for. One more season to go... Telltale announced that the first chapter of season four is coming in early 2018 with Clementine once again in the lead. I’m already bracing myself for lasting trauma...

1. Murdered: Soul Suspect (Airtight Games)

In this game from 2014, you are Ronan, a tattooed bad boy cop who dies and has to solve his own murder. The setting is a fictional Salem, famous for its history of witch trials and executions, which leads to a wide-ranging investigation of a serial killer somehow connected to a series of historic murders from the 1600s.

You investigate corrupt, dangerous cops within your department and enlisting the help of the daughter of a police psychic who’s gone missing. To further complicate matters, there are constant flashbacks and clues about the recent murder of your wife, who we learn about—and about Ronan himself—through her many diary entries and letters found scattered throughout the game.

The city streets are overlaid with ghostly buildings, old shipwrecks, a crumbling quarantine hospital from some ancient epidemic, etc. In fact, the first thing you notice is that half the buildings are either partially or completely on fire, but a ghostly blue fire indicating a long-ago catastrophe that’s imprinted itself and will forever be a part of the building’s sense memory—cool, no?

I mean, think of how many cities have been burned to the ground and rebuilt—Chicago, San Francisco, Seattle... um, pretty much all of Europe? Just imagine what you’d see if you walked through any of those cities with “ghost cop vision.” Lots of ghosts, sure—but also ghost fires, floods, plagues, wars... skyscrapers. (Ooh.)

So of course, the streets are also lousy with ghosts, some recently dead, some ancient, some mere outlines that flicker and vanish as you get close, and some that engage you, entreating your help to solve the mystery of their death or to convey a final message so their souls can finally rest and move on. Some want to share their story of pain and regret, but there’s nothing you can do for them—their punishment is being trapped in this parallel realm forever.

So the game is full of deep, interesting concepts like that, and yet those are all peripheral to your actual objective: solve your murder and those of several girls whose ghosts and gruesome deaths you encounter along the way. Oh yeah—and find the teenage girl’s mother... and your wife’s killer. And probably some other things I’m forgetting.

You’re constantly finding clues, picking up bits of paper and unearthing endless fragments of side mysteries, and it’s not always clear what’s relevant to your objective. Normally, I’d say if it’s in the game, you should pick it up and solve the mystery, but there are just so fucking many, you get to the point where you’re like, ugh, I don’t have time to deal with this century-old cold case!

Every person you pass on the street is a potentially “playable” character in that you can “possess” them temporarily and hear their thoughts (although this gets old quickly, since most people tend to be thinking incredibly inane, mundane things—commentary from the developers?). Sometimes you can use people to “hide” from nearby demons or to get by obstacles that you can’t go through as a ghost—ghost fire, ghost walls, etc.—also, there are deadly obstacles that the living can’t see, like demon lava pools and smoking geysers that erupt from the floor.

There are so many little details about this game that made it fun to play, like this trick you don’t learn until halfway through where you can “teleport” through holes in walls and up to high places you couldn’t reach otherwise. It’s actually so much fun I quit walking in most cases after I learned to teleport.

And then there’s “cat mode!” You can “possess” a cat just like a person, and it enables you to get into places you otherwise can’t. Running and jumping around as the cat is so much more fun than you’d think—best of all, the fucking demons don’t detect you when you’re in the cat.

But you can’t stay there forever. At some point you have to figure out how to kill enough of them to escape the areas where they cluster. They’re creepy as fuck and a huge pain to kill, but it’s very satisfying when you finally do. I wish more games were like this.

Note from 2026: That’s a wrap on my trip back to 2017! Have a great week, everyone!

Persephone was the young daughter of Demeter, the Greek goddess of agriculture and fertility, whose counterpart in Roman mythology is Ceres. Persephone is also known as Kore, which means “maiden.” Her father was none other than Zeus, the king of the gods.

Kore was frolicking in the woods one day when Hades, the king of the Underworld and one of Zeus’ brothers (best not to read too much into the Olympian family tree), took notice of her beauty and lured her down to the Underworld. Some say abducted, some say lured… Issues of consent are often murky in these myths. Bear with me.

Demeter wandered the earth in search of her daughter. When she realized what had happened, she petitioned Zeus to get her daughter back, but at first Zeus refused to confront his brother in the realm of the dead.

In her grief, Demeter neglected her fields, causing the crops to wither and die. The earth entered a period of barrenness and perpetual winter. Finally, Zeus intervened and ordered Hades to return Persephone, but while she was in the Underworld, she had eaten six pomegranate seeds (a symbol of fertility), which bound her to Hades.

Shared Custody

As a compromise, Persephone returned to the world of the living for half of every year, ensuring that her mother would allow the crops to flourish and the flowers to bloom. When her daughter returns to the surface every year, spring arrives, and the earth becomes fertile again.

Six months later, when Persephone descends to the Underworld, Demeter mourns and the world endures the temporary death of winter.

But for the time she spends with Hades, Persephone is recognized as the as the Queen of the Underworld, a powerful goddess associated with the afterlife and the mysteries of death and eternal life.

Persephone and Demeter are associated with the Eleusinian Mysteries, ancient initiations held every year involving powerful wine mixed with hallucinogenic plants. The ceremony involved conjuring visions of Persephone’s journey to the Underworld, and her return to the land above, symbolizing the cycle of death and rebirth.

In popular culture, the myth has evolved into something far more romantic and, as we say these days, spicy… Less of an “uncle abducts underage girl” and more of a tale of temptation, sexual awakening and forbidden love.

Hades is dark and dangerous, powerful and intense, and Persephone is a fledgeling goddess in her own right. She can only truly come into her full power and maturity by cutting the ties that bind her to the world of the living, and her mother’s protection.

In the end, she gets the best of both worlds, quite literally. In the spring and summer, she is a goddess of rebirth and hidden knowledge, bringing life to the earth after the long fallow hibernation of the cold months of winter.

While above, she shares her mother’s realm and they rule the land of plenty. Both goddesses are worshiped as bringers of life and fertility, a vital role that’s appreciated all the more because of its fragility and impermanence.

When she descends to the Underworld, she rules at the side of her mate, as the queen of the dead—not a captured wife, but a co-ruler. When Hades appears in Homer’s epic poems, Persephone is always at his side.

No Light Without Darkness

I’ve been thinking a lot about this myth over the last week, since the news of Tim Curry’s passing. He’s probably best known for his iconic role as Frank in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but I always loved him as Darkness in Ridley Scott’s Legend.

Legend is not necessarily a great movie, but it’s an incredible work of visual filmmaking, and Tim Curry is utterly transcendent the lord of the underworld, tempting the beautiful and innocent Lily to stay with him and be his queen.

Darkness: “I've found my true mate and you know it. Beneath the skin, we are already one. Was it not your sin that trapped the unicorn? Even now the evil seed of what you've done germinates within you.“

Lily: “You are nothing but an animal!”

Darkness: [laughing] “We are all animals, m’lady.”

Pure fantasy fuel for a young girl with mythology and romance in her heart and a synth-pop emo soundtrack playing in her ears. Lily’s underworld goth princess makeover is one of most iconic fashion moments, and truly embodies the spirit of Persephone.

Even though in the end Lily returns to the light, I like to think she carried a bit of Darkness with, just enough to keep things spicy in the land of the living. I mean, who among us can descend to the land of the dead and drink wine with the devil without emerging permanently changed just a little?

After all, as the immortal final words spoken by Tim Curry, “What is light without dark? What are you without me? I am a part of you all. You can never defeat me. We are brothers eternal…”

This weekend I’m off at an undisclosed location filming a dance performance on the beach with Melody Mangler and a bunch of sexy sirens (read about it and the history of mermaids in last week’s post!), so I’m resurrecting one of my favorite pieces from the archives, a list of some of the best articles I’ve ever read.

This is an incomplete list in no particular order, but an excellent place to start if you want to have your mind blown by the human capacity for eloquence in the face of unspeakable injustice, the horrifying destructive power of nature, or the sheer majestic beauty of life in this prime spot of real estate in our solar system.

When the Walls Come Tumbling Down

It’s all too easy for us coastal types to survey the latest Midwestern town flattened in Tornado Alley and with all the sympathetic platitudes out of the way, mutter under our breath, “Well, what do you expect when you live in a place nicknamed Tornado Alley?”

We assign their deaths and property damages a place on the sliding scale of tragedy somewhere between bungee jumpers and the Steve Irwins and Roy Horns of the world. After all, there are only so many times the universe will allow you to poke at poisonous snakes with a stick, or pry open the jaws of a full-grown tiger as the audience gasps and squirms in their seats, before the inevitable catches up with you.

Live by the sword/ twister/ scenic yet unstable coastline with the understanding that you may very well die by the sword/ twister/ scenic yet unstable coastline.

But 50 years of predictions, movies, jokes and songs about “the Big One” cleaving Los Angeles away from the continent proper in a great, cataclysmic rip along the well-perforated dotted line of the San Andreas fault hasn’t dimmed the sunny glow of Malibu’s beaches or the seedy glow of Hollywood’s klieg lights.

You don’t see people getting all judgey about the tech moguls who live in flat-out denial just a few miles up the fault line outside San Francisco. And when Hurricane Sandy took down New York City’s power grid in 2013, you didn’t hear the nation collectively shaming its natives for continuing to live in a vertical city built on landfills 100 miles downstream of a nuclear reactor.

You just hear the buzz of the city’s millions of stakeholders working to strengthen their communities, emergency services and redundant supply lines so they’d be better prepared for the next one. (Note from 2026: This last passage hasn’t aged well in Trump 2.0 times, but I left it in for nostalgic value!)

That’s the nice thing about hurricanes, though—they respond reasonably well to human innovation. Seaside resorts where building foundations have been eroding into the sea little by little for decades, their quaintly dilapidated boardwalks crumbling and their sun-bleached midway attractions attracting a few less tourists with each passing year—these are ripe for the pruning when Mother Nature turns on her late-summer pressure washer.

But advances in structural engineering have radically increased the survivability of urban landscapes. Steel-and-glass high rises can take a lot more pummeling by wind and water before their double-paned, double-glazed, impact-resistant windows give way.

Add to that a populace educated in the arts of emergency preparedness, the hyper-vigilant media on the constant lookout for weakness and corruption to expose, and those all-pervasive communication networks we now enjoy—and expect, come hell, high water or a deadly combination thereof. All these have made east coast cities increasingly disaster-proof, capable of weathering anything short of weeks cut off from the power grid.

Earthquakes are another matter entirely.

I don’t think I can preface this article any better than ol’ Kottke.org who said: “HOLY GOD, this Kathryn Schulz piece about the already-overdue Pacific Northwest earthquake is terrific and terrifying.” That goes double if you happen to live here.

1. The Really Big One by Kathryn Schulz

Excerpt:
“When the next very big earthquake hits, the northwest edge of the continent, from California to Canada and the continental shelf to the Cascades, will drop by as much as six feet and rebound thirty to a hundred feet to the west—losing, within minutes, all the elevation and compression it has gained over centuries. Some of that shift will take place beneath the ocean, displacing a colossal quantity of seawater...

The water will surge upward into a huge hill, then promptly collapse. One side will rush west, toward Japan. The other side will rush east, in a seven-hundred-mile liquid wall that will reach the Northwest coast, on average, fifteen minutes after the earthquake begins.

By the time the shaking has ceased and the tsunami has receded, the region will be unrecognizable. Kenneth Murphy, who directs FEMA’s Region X, the division responsible for Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and Alaska, says, ‘Our operating assumption is that everything west of Interstate 5 will be toast.‘”

Well, shiiiiit. But, you know, I’m actually fine with this plan. If you think all it takes is some apocalyptic prognostication to strike fear into the hearts of everyone in yoga pants country, so that when we look out at the skylines of Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco and, sure, even that of Los Angeles (such as it is), we’ll see the future shadows of our tombstones... well, you may be right. But on every one of those tombstones we may imagine two words engraved: Fuck Cancer.

2. A Thousand Pounds of Dynamite by Adam Higginbotham

Excerpt:
By three in the afternoon on Tuesday, the Nevada National Guard was enforcing a quarter-mile cordon around Harvey’s... On the casino floor, the banks of slot machines silently winked their lights. Hands of cards, stacks of chips, and cash lay abandoned on the tables...

The bomb team examined the device every way they could. They photographed it and dusted it for fingerprints, X-rayed it and scraped it for paint samples. They scanned it for radiation with a Geiger counter. And, using electronic listening devices and stethoscopes, they strained again and again to hear any sound coming from inside it.

At first the task was almost impossible. The humming of the air-conditioning, the Muzak piped into every room of the building—even the offices—was just too loud... But late that night, it was quiet enough that, for the first time, they were able to pick up something coming from the lower box: an intermittent whirring noise... Somewhere inside the bomb, something was happening.

3. In the Realm of the Unabomber by Gary Greenberg, McSweeney’s Quarterly, 1999 (Read parts I, II, III, VI, XIV at McSweeneys.net.)

Excerpt:

“The first time I got a letter from the Unabomber, I had my wife open it.
I was at work, the letter had come to my house, and neither of us wanted to wait to see what Ted Kaczynski, whose outgoing mail was by then inspected by the United States Bureau of Prisons, had to say.

Sealed in a #10 envelope, the letter was addressed in the careful block capitals that the post office says will guarantee maximum efficiency. He even put his return address, in the same frank print, in just the right spot. No fool, Kaczynski knows that the mails will only work for you if you work with them.”

4. Junkspace by Rem Koolhaas, 2001

Excerpt:

“Junkspace is overripe and undernourishing at the same time, a colossal security blanket that covers the earth in a stranglehold of seduction... Junkspace is like being condemned to a perpetual Jacuzzi with millions of your best friends... A fuzzy empire of blur, it fuses high and low, public and private, straight and bent, bloated and starved to offer a seamless patchwork of the permanently disjointed. Seemingly an apotheosis, spatially grandiose, the effect of its richness is a terminal hollowness, a vicious parody of ambition that systematically erodes the credibility of building, possibly forever...”

5. The Simpsons Generation by Chris Turner, Shift Magazine, 2002 (Sadly, not available online, but he did expand the celebrated article into a book, available here.)

Excerpt:

“We will never know just how great an opportunity was lost, how much passionate momentum squandered. Here were the people of virtually the entire world—and certainly the entire First World—rising as one, ready to sacrifice, wanting to help. Who knows how many oversights could have been corrected, inequalities eliminated, hypocrisies inverted?

Who knows what glorious civilization could have emerged from the ashes of those towers? One thing is for certain: Our leaders didn’t, and don’t. They have failed us completely in this regard—particularly those of the United States of America, that self-proclaimed last best hope for humanity. America’s primacy of place and supremacy of power in world affairs, be they economic, political, military or cultural, has never been more apparent than in the wake of September 11, when, as if in some half-witted Hollywood movie, the whole world looked to America for direction. And was told to go shopping.”

6. Ah, Wilderness! by Art Linson, Vanity Fair, April 2002

This is the hilarious behind the scenes story of the making of the movie, “The Edge” with Anthony Hopkins and Alec Baldwin. For anyone who loves podcasts like “How Did This Get Made” or “What Went Wrong,” this is like the pre-podcast version of that, only way less polite.

Excerpt:

“First, we received the obligatory and expected turndown from Harrison Ford. At that time, any script that required a male lead over 45 went directly to Harrison... It didn’t matter if the character was an international spy or a transvestite... Unless, of course, Tom Cruise was interested. Cruise would’ve been allowed to play the bear in our script, or any other role of his choosing...

If several actors or directors pass, their enthusiasm goes on life support... and eventually, as the rejections add up, finger-pointing inevitably follows. “Who the fuck on my staff liked this piece-of-shit script anyhow?” “Can you believe even Richard Gere thought it was bad?”

7. The Acid King by Peter Wilkinson (Rolling Stone, July 5, 2001)

Excerpt:

“In some ways, the story of Leonard Pickard and Todd Skinner is a story about the collision of Sixties idealism with the materialism and pragmatism of the nineties—Timothy Leary’s America versus Bill Clinton’s, if you will. And its moral will be clear even before the Judge calls the court to order; the sweet but easily corruptible dream of the flower-power generation never really stood a chance—but it was fun while it lasted.”

8. The Lilly Suicides by Richard DeGrandpre, 1999

Excerpt:

“The rate of depression in the 1950s was estimated at about 50 people per million, an estimate that would grow to 100,000 per million by the end of the century. This is a 2,000-fold increase in what is ostensibly a hereditary disease. What happened during these years is not that a disease was discovered, or its cure. What happened is that, because of ongoing changes in the drug marketplace, the pharmaceutical industry began to take an interest in depression.”

9. An Open Letter to My Sister, Miss Angela Davis by James Baldwin, November 19, 1970

Excerpt:

“Dear Sister:
One might have hoped that, by this hour, the very sight of chains on black flesh, or the very sight of chains, would be so intolerable a sight for the American people, and so unbearable a memory, that they would themselves spontaneously rise up and strike off the manacles.

But, no, they appear to glory in their chains; now, more than ever, they appear to measure their safety in chains and corpses. And so, Newsweek, civilized defender of the indefensible, attempts to drown you in a sea of crocodile tears (’it remained to be seen what sort of personal liberation she had achieved’) and puts you on its cover, chained...”

Beautifully poignant and brutally candid, this letter sums up much of what was and still is, 44 years later (Note from 2026: Make that 56 years later), tragically wrong with race relations in America. It’s also an interesting counterpoint to an essay published earlier the same year, Radical Chic and Leonard Bernstein’s Party for the Black Panthers.

Unfortunately, despite the zesty retro bite of passages like the one below, Tom Wolfe’s article reads to the modern mind like a whiter shade of Lenny Bruce’s How To Relax Your Colored Friends at Parties.

Excerpt from Radical Chic by Tom Wolfe, Jun 8, 1970:
“Christ, if the Panthers don’t know how to get it all together, as they say, the tight pants, the tight black turtlenecks, the leather coats, Cuban shades, Afros. But real Afros, not the ones that have been shaped and trimmed like a topiary hedge and sprayed until they have a sheen like acrylic wall-to-wall—but like funky, natural, scraggly. . . wild . . .

These are no civil-rights Negroes wearing gray suits three sizes too big—
—no more interminable Urban League banquets in hotel ballrooms where they try to alternate the blacks and whites around the tables as if they were stringing Arapaho beads—

—these are real men! Shootouts, revolutions, pictures in Life magazine of policemen grabbing Black Panthers like they were Viet Cong—somehow it all runs together in the head with the whole thing of how beautiful they are. Sharp as a blade.

The Panther women—there are three or four of them on hand, wives of the Panther 21 defendants, and they are so lean, so lithe, as they say, with tight pants and Yoruba-style headdresses, almost like turbans, as if they’d stepped out of the pages of Vogue, although no doubt Vogue got it from them.”

While we’re on the topic, here’s another relevant tidbit from Jet magazine, 1970:

10. Total Eclipse by Annie Dillard

I honestly think this might be the best article I’ve ever read.

Excerpt:

“This was the universe about which we have read so much and never before felt: the universe as a clockwork of loose spheres flung at stupefying, unauthorized speeds. How could anything moving so fast not crash, not veer from its orbit amok like a car out of control on a turn?”

Bonus article, and a bonus list!

11. The Theory of Receptivity and Some Thoughts on Ethan Hawke’s Face by Michelle Orange

The first half of this essay is a somewhat self-indulgent (but braver than I was in my mid-40s) meditation on aging. The second half is a righteous nomination of 1999 as one of the best years ever in film, with which I couldn’t agree more (and which I also noted in my 2009 year in review). Note from 2026: I think it’s widely agreed now that 1999 was in fact the high-water mark of film, full stop.

Excerpt:
“The fall is where things really get ridiculous: next is the one-two crunch of Boys Don’t Cry and Fight Club, both of which had me wandering out into the streets with the anguished, bleary look of someone who’s been kidnapped, injected with adrenaline, alienation, and heartbreak, and kicked out of a moving car.”

My List within a List: The 26 Best Films of the Best Year in Film within My Lifetime (1999)

1. Magnolia

2. Fight Club

3. The Matrix

4. Run Lola Run

5. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

6. Bowfinger

7. Dogma

8. Galaxy Quest

9. Three Kings

10. The Sixth Sense

11. American Beauty

12. The Insider

13. The Hurricane

14. The Green Mile

15. October Sky

16. Last Night

17. Boys Don’t Cry

18. Detroit Rock City

19. Drop Dead Gorgeous

20. Man on the Moon

21. Buena Vista Social Club

22. Pushing Tin

23. 10 Things I Hate About You

24. The Talented Mr. Ripley

25. Being John Malkovich

26. Eyes Wide Shut

The myth of the mermaid has been with us since ancient times, with one of the oldest named versions being the Assyrian/Mesopotamian Atargatis, a fertility goddess and a symbol of love and protection with the face of a woman and the body of a fish.

Tales of half-woman, half-fish creatures that lived in the water date back much farther than that, with cuneiform tablets from the bronze age venerating various sea goddesses, and tales of shape-shifting water women in folk tales from all over the world.

Goddesses and Monsters

We’ve always been fascinated by the idea of shapeshifters and hybrids, from the half-human Egyptian deities like Horus and Anubis and the centaurs and sirens of Greek mythology, to stories of people transforming into animals like werewolves and birdmen.

While werewolves have become increasingly eroticized in the modern era (see True Blood, Twilight, Hemlock Grove, et al), their origins are pure body horror and existential dread. Similar to the gothic novel Jekyll and Hyde, it’s the idea that a mild-mannered man could suddenly transform into a monster, beyond reason and self-control, capable of committing atrocities, then waking to remember nothing.

Mermaids, on the other hand, occupy a complicated space between the magical and the malevolent. They’re the ultimate femme fatales; beautiful, graceful, luminous creatures of the sea, dwelling in an unknown and unknowable world where mortal man can’t follow—and yet, they beckon to us.

Sirens vs. Mermaids

The modern idea of the mermaid is often conflated with that of the siren, which were actually half-bird, half-female creatures from Greek mythology. They first appeared the Homer’s Odyssey, as beautiful disembodied voices that beckoned to Odysseus and his shipmates.

Although Homer didn’t give them a physical description, by the 7th century BC, they had entered the mythological lexicon as human-headed birds.

By the 3rd century BC, they had evolved into something more like the modern mermaid, with carved figures of human women with fishlike tails found on clay pots and bowls.

By the middle ages, mermaids were usually depicted as cautionary figures, tempting men to their doom, with the first usage of the English word "mermaid" appearing in 1390 in a tale by Chaucer. The word is a compound of mere, meaning sea, and maid, meaning young woman.

Dangers of the Deep

Throughout history, men went to sea, braving uncharted and treacherous waters to conquer foreign lands or bring back treasures from beyond the horizon. The seas were then, as now, filled with bounty but also fraught with danger.

Ancient maps were literally marked with images of sea serpents, warning travelers “here be dragons.” Mermaids are the flip side of that. Alluring and mysterious, their feminine appearance promises the comforts of home, but instead of the expected warmth of a woman’s touch, their lips are cold and their embrace, deadly.

It’s no surprise that tales of mermaids proliferated from ancient times through the age of exploration, as men sought to discover every corner of the world and chart the vast oceans. Shipwrecks were common, and the tales told by survivors often inextricable from fantasy, studded with sightings of monsters and mythical creatures.

Even Christopher Columbus reportedly claimed to have seen three mermaids off the coast of Hispaniola in 1493, noting that they weren't as beautiful as the legends would have you believe.

To which I would say, sir, those were manatees. Maybe lay off the rum, and try eating an orange once in a while.

Not Mermaids, But Close Enough

Sirens are not the only female creatures closely associated with the myth of the mermaids, not by a long shot. In ancient Greece alone, in addition to the birdlike sirens, there were the sea-monsters Scylla and Charybdis, who lived near the sirens, and were also female with fishlike attributes.

There were also naiads and water nymphs, who lived by the sea but did not have fish tails, sometimes considered to be the half-human offspring of the sea god Triton, products of his dalliances with human women.

In countless cultural traditions, dangerous women can be found languishing by the water’s edge, tempting men with a good time and luring them to a watery grave.

The selkies of Ireland are shapeshifting seal-folk who shed their seal skin and come to shore naked and hungry for human companionship. Most of these stories are more sad than scary, however, as they often end with the selkie falling in love and bearing children before abandoning their families when the sea inevitably beckons them home.

The iara is a Brazilian water nymph or mermaid who lounges by the banks of the river, brushing her hair or singing in a beautiful, unearthly voice. Men who succumb to their charms are never seen again, often believed to have followed the iara to her underwater realm, willingly abandoning solid land, either for life or a blissful death by drowning.

In Slavic mythology, they are called Rusalki, deadly water spirits believed to be the restless souls of young women or unbaptized children who suffered a tragic, violent, or untimely death.

Atargatis to Ariel

So how did the mermaid archetype evolve from primordial goddess to birdlike/fishlike water hazard, to vaguely demonic femme fatale to romantic figure of longing to Disney princess and modern feminist icon of sexual liberation and fantasy cosplay favorite?

The pivot point seems to be the publication of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale, “The Little Mermaid” in 1837. In case you’re not from around here, this is the story of a young mermaid who falls in love with a human prince and begs the sea-witch to turn her into a mortal girl.

The trade is her beautiful voice, and In the original story, the transformation comes with unimaginable pain as she struggles to walk on her new legs. The tale ends in tragedy because, of course it does—old timey fairy tales were the absolute worst.

She’s supposed to stab the prince with a magic knife on their wedding night, but can’t bring herself to do it, so she dissolves into foam and dies, but is later resurrected as a spirit of the air as a reward for her selflessness. She doesn’t get the guy in the end.

In the Disney version—spoiler alert—she vanquishes the sea-witch and marries the prince, and ostensibly lives happily ever after.

But the modern mermaid tale that first sparked my interest in the genre was none other than Splash, the 1984 fantasy rom-com starring Daryl Hannah and Tom Hanks.

These days, mermaids are a staple of online cosplayers like Charity Grace, and tourist attractions featuring underwater performances with elaborate costumes. The lack of female genitalia somehow became a feature, not a bug, symbolizing self-possession and inviolability.

Song of the Sirens

Next weekend, I’ll be taking on the role of sea siren in a video performance choreographed by Melody Mangler, featuring a bevy of beautiful creatures filmed on the beach half in and half out of the water.

We’ve been rehearsing and putting our costumes together for the last few weeks, and early next Saturday morning we’ll be filming at an undisclosed location. I’ll share the video as soon as it’s available, some time in the next few weeks.

I just finished listening to the audiobook of Lincoln Child’s Deep Storm, so fair warning, I will be spoiling the hell out of it. Stop now if you plan on reading it.

The premise of the book starts out like any other Michael Crichton style sci-fi thriller with a scientist descending to a deep underwater military facility shrouded in secrecy, tasked with unearthing the cause of an epidemic of medical and psychological issues among people working at the facility.

At first he is told they are excavating the lost city of Atlantis, but it turns out it’s a much more recent phenomenon, dating to the year 1398, when one eyewitness’ account recorded the landing of a mysterious craft in the ocean, which caused multiple deaths, leaving only one survivor, largely thought to be crazy.

We eventually discover that it was not some benevolent alien visitors waiting for us to become scientifically aware enough to unearth it and prove ourselves worthy of the quantum leap forward that discovering their technology might bring.

Rather, our planet is the alien version of a toxic waste dump. Earth is in fact a condemned and useless planet that some far more advanced species decided to use to bury their spent weapons, giving no fucks whatsoever about the native species that might stumble across it.

Or do they? The mysterious illnesses might indicate some sort of force field or protective measure that’s been put in place to prevent whatever it is from being discovered.

The book even name-checks the U.S. WIPP, or Waste Isolation Pilot Plant in New Mexico, which is a real life deep geological repository licensed to store transuranic radioactive waste for 10,000 years.

This is Not a Place of Honor

But the question is, who will be around in 10,000 years and how do we communicate with them? How do you make a warning sign for people whose language, culture, technology, system of government, and religious beliefs may be completely alien to ours?

And if that sounds far-fetched, just think of our blind fumblings in the sand, trying to decipher hieroglyphs, sundials, places of worship or burial sites in the ancient world, most of it a lot less than 10,000 years old. When in doubt, we assume, it must have been used for ritual purposes.

In order to tackle such thorny questions, Sandia National Laboratories assembled expert teams to develop possible scenarios for what human society might look like 10,000 years from now, from technological development to economics, and how information might be preserved that would outlast every form of government, religion, or culture on earth.

The Problem of Language

In 1993, Sandia published a report called Expert judgment on markers to deter inadvertent human intrusion into the waste isolation pilot plant. They agreed on several principles:

1. Clarity is key. The site needs to be unmistakably labeled in a way that communicates something unusual and unnatural is here.

2. The message must be truthful and informative. No relying on mysterious symbols, mythology or any existing written language, which may not survive. It needs to clearly communicate that people should stay away.

3. Any single message may fail or be misunderstood. Redundancy is essential. Any format used may decay, deteriorate, be destroyed by natural disasters, or looted if deemed to be precious, like so many ancient artifacts. A system of messages vastly increases the chances of the medium surviving to convey the message.

4. Combine written language, pictographs, scientific diagrams of varying levels of complexity. Different people from the future may understand different parts of the message and, with any luck, they will come together to decipher it.

5. Use materials with little monetary value or recyclability. If you construct a massive monolith out of some precious metal or valuable stone, you can expect to have it chipped away and carted off for parts before anyone thinks to read it.

6. Distribute the information far and wide. The final recommendation was that this should be an international effort, not confined to one nation, government, or culture. A worldwide mission is required to maintain this knowledge if we have any hope of it surviving 10,000 years.

The Problem of Human Nature

Then again, what if it’s not our descendants who find it, but some far future alien archaeologists, exploring the ruins of our planet long after we’ve faded from the scene? Leaving a ticking time bomb under the sands of our future graveyard seems, unfortunately, exactly like something we would do.

But let’s assume for a moment we don’t want to take out those future aliens in a giant nuclear conflagration as our last laugh from beyond the grave.

Then it’s the same kind of question as what we put on the golden record that we sent off with Voyager 1. Will they be able to decipher our pictograms in order to actually play the message? Will they interpret any structure as a religious site or evidence of buried treasure? Is mathematics the universal language or is that just what the nerds want to believe?

In Deep Storm, one of the clues to deciphering the “warning” is a series of mathematical equations that divide by zero, which everyone knows is “forbidden” in math. Forbidden=off limits=stay away, get it? Ugh. Who put the alien nerds in charge?

Beacon or Warning?

Just like in Alien, one of my favorite classic sci fi movies of all time, a beacon can lure passing space travelers to your planet, thinking they’re about to encounter another intelligent species (or the buried treasures of a long dead civilization). But sometimes what sounds like a beacon, is actually a warning to stay away!

Lord knows the ancient Egyptians covered their sarcophagi and pyramids with all the warnings they could imagine to stay the fuck away, lest you be cursed for all eternity because here lies the motherfucking pharaoh… And we all know how that turned out.

The Problem of Curiosity

Even if all the known languages, governments, religions, and societies of today are long forgotten 10,000 years from now, as long as there are humans, the one thing we can count on is they will be curious. And probably greedy.

Finding a way to convey danger whilst also deterring further investigation is a perfect thought experiment for humans who can’t get through a day without diving down every little rabbit hole to discover what’s being hidden from them, who’s lying and who’s telling the truth, what ancient tidbits have we forgotten that might have nostalgic value or poignant meaning to our modern lives?

We are creatures of curiosity if nothing else! I start every day with Connections, Wordle, and Quordle, then end it with a podcast along the lines of “Boring science facts to fall asleep to.” I’m dead serious about that. It’s an entire genre. If you know you know!

That’s probably the thorniest problem of all, overcoming the nature of our own curiosity. How do you craft a warning that short circuits the natural human inclination to say, essentially, “I get it, horrifically burned bodies and deformed babies… but damn it, I just have to know what’s down there!”

A Picture is Worth 10,000 Words

Instead of trying to predict whether a skull and crossbones, now universally understood to mean “danger” (or pirates), will still mean “danger” 10,000 years from now, why not depict the danger in actual pictures?

We may not be able to leave them a hard drive full of images or videos, but hieroglyphics carved in stone have lasted several millennia. What if we etched incredibly graphic images of the effects of nuclear fallout that couldn’t help but be understood by future humans?

We’ve all seen horrific images of radiation-burnt bodies, deformed babies, mushroom clouds flattening entire cities—why not just show that?

(Of course, that doesn’t help if it’s aliens who find it, but hey, we can’t account for every possible outcome.)

When is a Dump Site Not a Dump Site?

In the Final Chapter of Deep Storm, we learn that far from burying the remains of spent weapons in a safe and forgettable backwater, the aliens have most likely left a cache of highly advanced and cosmically dangerous weapons under our ocean for safekeeping so they can return to it later.

Had they intended to merely bury the spent remains of decommissioned weapons, they would have disarmed them, which it turns out they definitely haven’t. Leaving the ominous question, when will they return and what will become of us when they do?

The Problem of Deep Time

Back in high school, my boyfriend and I were huge science fiction fans. I’ll never forget this story he wrote for a creative writing class in our senior year. It haunts me to this day and I’d like to summarize it for you because it’s relevant to this topic.

In the story, explorers arrive on a distant planet, drawn by a faint beacon across the vast reaches of space. They search for its source, but find no evidence of a technologically advanced civilization that could have built a beacon capable of reaching deep space.

All they find are long-buried ruins that may have once been religious sites or communal buildings, but time has worn them away to vague shapes in the sand.

They finally trace the source of the beacon to a mountain in the desert, and a long-buried entrance to a massive structure built into the rock. They’re attacked by ape-like creatures chanting indecipherable gibberish, a word salad of meaningless mantras that defy translation.

They fight their way into the underground facility, and find evidence of a last stand.

A small remnant of the planet’s last survivors had barricaded themselves and eventually starved to death, their remains locked away for eons as their planet descended into chaos, until nothing was left but this final monument buried in the sands above them.

The explorers speculate that they died protecting something down here from the others on the surface, so it must have been of the utmost importance. Maybe a religious relic, tomb, or sacred site. But as they look around, they realize the facility is scientific in nature—highly advanced, in fact—a shocking discovery, considering the primitive state of the rest of the planet.

They locate the source of the beacon on a dusty console, and when they reactivate it, they’re stunned by what they see on the screen. A space-based telescope, floating in the darkness against a blanket of stars, its camera lens long dormant, but pointed at deep space. Its unblinking eye the last witness to the extinction of their civilization.

But what happened to them? And what was this facility to those final few—an apparently educated, idealistic minority—who fought so valiantly to secure it, and defend it with their lives?

The telescope, and the facility that monitored it, are the only evidence that they were once highly intelligent, yet somehow, tragically, they were unable to overcome their baser instincts. For all their hope and curiosity, this fledgling race of space-faring apes destroyed themselves before ever making it out of their solar system.

In the final paragraph, one explorer reads from the screen, tears streaming down his face, fists clenched, horrified and angered at the waste of potential. He turns to the others and says, “They called it Hubble... they were looking at the stars.”

The Problem of the Unknowable

In the end, all our planning and philosophizing may be the mere musings of apes with just enough ingenuity to cast metal stones into the void, or the primitive inhabitants of a backwater planet so far off the beaten path it matters little what any of us do.

But I love that people are thinking about these things. Yes, we’re distracted and addicted to short-terms gains, easily manipulated and so very greedy, but at least someone is out there trying to solve the 10,000 year problems. Some of us are looking at the stars.

You may recognize the name Lilith from her brief but colorful role in Jewish folklore as the first wife of Adam, created separate and equal from the same earth as her husband, not an animated rib taken from the chest of her mate.

Lilith famously abandoned the Garden of Eden after refusing to submit to Adam, becoming a symbol of independence and defiance. She’s historically been interpreted as either a cautionary tale about the evil nature of the dark feminine, or a modern fuck-the-patriarchy icon.

Ancient Origins

But rewind the clock to around 3,000 BC, and Lilith was a species of night demon in ancient Sumerian and Akkadian mythology, associated with chaos, storms, and the untamed wilderness.

Her named derived from Sumerian and Akkadian words like lilu, lilītu, and ardat lilî, demons of the night and wind known for bringing disease and death, especially to pregnant women and newborns.

These demons were believed to roam the night, carried on the desert winds, preying on the vulnerable and seducing men in their sleep.

The Real Danger

It’s funny (if that’s the word) trying to imagine the real world anxieties and tribulations that fed into these kinds of ancient cautionary stories.

Throughout ancient times in every part of the world, women of childbearing age succumbed to mysterious diseases and misunderstood side effects of pregnancy. I mean, it wasn’t until the late 19th century when germs were finally identified by microscope, that doctors delivering babies realized the importance of washing their hands first. (Thank you, Dr. Semmelweis!)

Pregnancy and childbirth have always been fraught with dangers, but disease and medical malpractice weren’t the only things fertile young women had to fear. Then as now, statistically speaking, no one presents a greater danger to women than the male partners and relatives to whom they entrust their safety.

In fact, the murder of new brides and pregnant wives by their husbands has been one of the leading causes of death for women ever since the advent of marriage.

Marriage, after all, is an institution, and any institution that entraps people and leaves them with few—overly complicated and socially stigmatized—means of getting out, creates an incentive for some to commit unspeakable acts in order to escape.

Think of all the true crime stories of men murdering their wives because they fell in love with someone else and didn’t want to go through the messy, fault-finding process of divorce.

These narcissists don’t want to be known as the asshole who abandoned the mother of their children, so they roll the dice that they won’t find her body, and trace it back to the one person with a motive to kill her.

That shit’s been going on since the dawn of time. But back in the day, they could blame it on night demons.

Feminist Icon

So how did Lilith the devourer of young mothers get the mother of all makeovers to become the feminist icon she is today?

The duality and enduring appeal of Lilith across the millennia just goes to show how deeply rooted and conflicted our feelings about strong, independent woman are.

Is she an evil temptress, out for the blood of innocent young mothers, or a solitary child of the divine, who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, not even the original son of god?

Yes! She contains multitudes, just like all the women who came after her.

The sun, that life-giving ball of flaming plasma, the radiant center of our solar system, powered by nuclear fusion… In the grand scheme of the universe and all the stars in it, our star isn’t the biggest or the hottest, but it’s everything to us.

Without the sun, we wouldn’t have the gravity that keeps all the planets in our system (the fam) in orbit. We wouldn’t have daytime illuminated by its light, or liquid water warmed by its heat. Nor would we have ocean currents to power the cycle of photosynthesis, which is the basis of the food chain that makes all life on earth possible.

From the very origins of human exploration and inquiry, we’ve sought to understand the nature of our sun. We studied the seasons and predicted the best time to plant crops and preserve food for the winter. We used the path of the sun, and the other stars, to navigate and find our way across all the continents and oceans.

We measured the angle of the sun’s path across the sky throughout the year and used those calculations to determine the size and nature of our world.

Solar Goddesses

Nearly every culture on earth has revered and worshiped the sun in one form or another. While most religions cast a male deity in the role of solar mascot—Ra in ancient Egypt, Helios in ancient Greece, Surya in the Hindu pantheon, and Sol Invictus in the Roman—there are a great many sun goddesses in the world’s mythologies.

Some are traditional rulers of the greatest light in the heavens, with all the power and prestige that would imply, while others are explicitly associated with sunlight, the dawn, or the life-giving power of the sun.

Amaterasu

One of the most famous solar deities in the world, Amaterasu of Japan is the the supreme Shinto sun goddess and ruler of the heavens. Her name means “Shining in Heaven” or “Heaven’s Illuminating Force.”

She was born from a tear in the creator Izanagi’s left eye, while her brother, Tsukiyomi, the Moon God, was born from his right. Her youngest sibling, Susanoo, was born from his nose, and was sent to rule the sea plain as the storm god.

Sól (Sunna)

In the Norse pantheon of gods, Sol is the radiant goddess who drives the chariot of the sun across the sky while being pursued by a wolf. (There’s always a wolf in the Norse myths!)

She’s also called Sunna in Germanic mythology, one of the few religious traditions where the sun is considered female and the moon is male.

Áine

Ireland’s goddess of summer, sunshine, fertility, and prosperity, she is closely connected with the warmth of the summer sun. Not only is Áine a goddess of the sun, she’s the queen of the fairies, and the mother to many half-human offspring due to her irresistible charms and proclivity for seducing mortal men.

Aurora

The Roman goddess of the Dawn, and personification of the morning light. She crosses the sky every morning in her chariot to announce the arrival of the sun. Her Greek counterpart is Eos, and her name forms the root of the northern lights (aurora borealis).

A Trio of Egyptian Goddesses

It’s no surprise that Egypt had several deities associated with the sun, given its importance in ancient Egyptian mythology.

Sekhmet

Daughter of the sun god Ra, the lion-headed goddess. She embodies the fierce, scorching power of the midday sun.

Hathor

She is often called the Eye of Ra, and she is associated with the nourishing warmth and radiance of the sun.

Bastet

The cat goddess of ancient Egypt, closely associated with lions, the king of the jungle and solar avatar of the animal kingdom, and later with domesticated cats, which were famously revered in Egypt. She was connected with the gentle warmth and protective aspects of sunlight.

Leo Season

Leo season runs from July 22 to August 22, and this fixed fire sign is ruled by the sun. Leo season invites you to revel in all things associated with the solar; confidence, creativity, passion, leadership, and courage. Step into the spotlight, express yourself openly, be joyful, and lead with your heart.

In ancient times, one goddess stood above all others, and her legend spanned many cultures over thousands of years. Inanna was the Sumerian queen of the gods, dating back to 4,000 BC.

You may be more familiar with the name Ishtar. She was the Akkadian, Babylonian, and Assyrian incarnation of the goddess Inanna, whose worship spread from the earlier Sumerian society.

Inanna’s mythology portrays her as a complex and powerful figure. She was revered as the Queen of Heaven and Earth and is often considered the goddess of love, beauty, fertility, and war.

If those concepts seem contradictory, remember that the most important areas of life in the ancient world revolved around fertility—not only that of humans but also of crops and livestock, without which even the strongest empires could fall into ruin by starvation and internecine competition.

While women’s roles ranged from limited to downright oppressed in many cultures of the ancient world, a surprising number of them cast goddesses in the important role of war deity, including ancient Greece, Egypt, Mesopotamia, Sumer, and Babylonia.

Inanna is also described as impetuous and power-hungry, and her romantic conquests were legion. Her most famous myth is her "Descent into the Underworld" to visit her sister, Ereshkigal, the Queen of the Dead.

The Seven Gates

The Underworld is protected by seven gates. At each gate, Inanna was forced to give up one of her royal items: her crown, her jewelry, her measuring rod, and her royal robes. By the final gate, she entered the Underworld naked and powerless.

The idea is that no one but the Queen of the Underworld has the ability to enter and exit the Underworld. Then as now, dying is a one-way trip. Just as humans are stripped of their worldly possessions and the trappings of their station in life when they die, the goddess Inanna had to give up everything, and enter the Underworld with nothing.

Sisterly Rivals

Inanna’s sister, Ereshkigal, is the dark goddess of the Underworld, another unusual occupation for a female deity in ancient times. When Inanna entered her throne room, her sister was angered by her arrival, and commanded her servants to strike Inanna dead, hanging her body on a hook.

Eventually, with the help of the god Enki, Inanna escaped the Underworld, but only by striking a bargain to offer up the life of her husband and consort, Dumuzi—and in some tellings, his sister, who were forced to spend half the year in the Underworld, a metaphor for the changing of the seasons similar to the Greek myth of Persephone.

The Venus Cycle

Inanna was revived and returned to the world of the living, symbolizing the cyclical nature of life, death, and resurrection. Her descent and rebirth is also symbolically associated with the orbit of Venus around the Sun, and the beautiful pattern it traces in the sky as it circles and retrogrades throughout its cycle as seen from the Earth.

From Earth, the orbit of Venus appears to trace a beautiful, five-pointed, petal-like pattern in the sky over a period of eight years. The planet’s geometric path creates a pentagram, which is why Inanna is closely associated with the Venus.

Video credit: Reddit

In astrology, Inanna’s descent into the Underworld mirrors the journey Venus makes as it moves between being the Morning and Evening Star:

The Evening Star (Descent): Venus shines brightly in the western sky for about nine months, representing Inanna ruling as the Queen of Heaven. When the planet drops toward the horizon, it symbolizes Inanna’s journey to the Underworld.

The Underworld (Disappearance): Venus disappears from the sky for about 60 to 90 days as it passes between the Earth and the Sun. This is the part of the myth where Inanna passes through seven gates into the Underworld, disappearing from life.

Astronomically, this is when Venus appears to to turn retrograde (backwards) in the sky, and hides behind the Sun’s glare from our perspective on Earth.

The Morning Star (Rebirth): When Venus reappears in the eastern sky as the Morning Star, she is a brilliant beacon of resurrection. This mirrors her escape from the Underworld and her return to the heavens, to preside as a symbol of war, triumph and rebirth.

Six weeks ago, on May 27, I was roller skating around Science World with my bestie, living my best life as we love to do all summer, when I fell and fractured my wrist.

I’ve fallen dozens of times over the years, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary—just the price of doing business—but this time I fell hard and caught myself by reaching back with my left hand, which impacted the ground in just the wrong way. I always wear wrist guards and knee pads but this time the wrist guards just didn’t do their job.

Luckily, I was carrying ice packs because we were planning on posting up at the beach and having a drink afterwards and I don’t like my drinks warm LOL so I immediately wrapped my wrist in ice and we skated carefully the rest of the way a spot by the water near my friend’s place in Yaletown.

Road Rashed

My left hip was also very badly scraped up from the gravel, so it was painful to sit. (If you’re not squeamish, scroll to the bottom for a gnarly close-up!) I was fuming with rage and pain and recriminations, furious that this had happened, yet still in denial about how bad it could be.

After all, I had fallen and sprained my wrists in the past, fallen and scraped up both outstretched elbows, fallen on my ass more times than I could count over the years. If you look closely, you can still evidence of years-ago road rash on both of my calves, right below where the knee pads protected me from breaking anything vital, but where my skin was still exposed. This fall didn’t immediately seem all that different, but that might have just been the adrenaline protecting me from total despair.

Dear CIty of Vancouver

That evening, I dictated a furious email to the city complaining about the intersection where it happened, near the entrance to Science World, which has been a total shit show ever since they expanded the bike lane last year but left a 30 m strip of tightly packed gravel instead of paving the entire lane.

So instead of continuing straight on the path, anyone on skates or rollerblades has to turn left across the incoming bike lane, before the gravel part, which happens to be right at the entrance where bikers, skaters, walkers, strollers, scooters, e-bikers, pets, and throngs of children and their parents converge.

Someone from the city eventually wrote back to explain that Science World is built over the water on a deck that isn’t strong enough to support a paving machine which is why that one stretch couldn’t be properly covered in asphalt. They’re planning to revisit that whole section in 2027 for what it’s worth.

Here’s what the intersection looked like during the FIFA World Cup madness, which would have made skating downtown these last six weeks extra challenging anyway…

When I got home that evening, Rodger insisted I go get an x-ray, but the idea of spending half the night at the busy downtown St. Paul’s Hospital emergency room was out of the question. I agreed to go first thing the next morning after checking in with work.

A day at Emergency

I got to the emergency room around 11:00 a.m., after telling my workmates what had happened and that I would be out for a few hours. It didn’t seem all that busy at first. I sat down and listened to an audiobook on my headphones, and went through my usual morning routine of Connections, Wordle, and all the Quordles…

Three hours passed before I was called in to the x-ray room, another two before the doctor came out to see me. He sent me back for another x-ray because the first two didn’t clearly show the scaphoid bone, which meant another hour, and another hour after that until he could see me again. It was after 5 p.m. by the time I got home.

The ER doctor was the only saving grace of the whole experience. He looked like a cross between John Malkovich and Matt Frewer, star of Max Headroom and sci-fi “hey, it’s that guy” from dozens of shows I’ve loved over the years.

He was very sympathetic as showed me the slight feathering at the edges around the bone on the x-ray, and explained that it was just barely fractured—not displaced, and not the scaphoid (the fragile tiny bone at base of the thumb), not even a hairline fracture. When I told him it happened roller skating, he smiled and said he wrote his dissertation some 30 years ago on rollerblading injuries, back in the day when the activity was just gaining popularity.

But all that bedside manner didn’t change the fact that I would have to be in a cast for 6 weeks. I felt like I was being being handed a jail sentence. I burst into tears and then immediately felt guilty, looking around at all the people in wheelchairs, having mental health episodes or overdosing, chronically ill people connected to IV carts, and parents with injured children…

But what can I say? I got all the way to my 53rd year without breaking a bone and, as they say, the worst thing that’s ever happened to you is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. And this didn’t even comes close to the worst thing that’s happened to me—but in the moment, it felt like my summer was over before it began.

Casted

I went home with a splint wrapped in tensor bandages and an appointment with an orthopedic clinic for the following week, where I got my fancy waterproof purple cast, which stayed on for the next 5 weeks. Of course I got a manicure to match.

I immediately began researching the best way to get exercise with a cast on and found that they now recommend staying as active as possible, even lifting weights with your uninjured arm, which somehow prevents muscle loss in the injured arm, as unintuitive as it may sound.

I followed the internet’s advice and continued working out every morning 4 days a week, getting as much cardio as possible and occasionally bursting into tears when a beautiful sunny day (and my well-meaning bestie) beckoned me out to skate and I had to say no.

But I managed to get out to play disc golf a bunch of times, and spent hours laying in the sun in a beautiful park while Rodger practiced throwing discs. I’m wearing his shorts in the picture above because my road-rashed ass took two weeks to heal and wearing tight shorts was out of the question!

Here’s a ridiculous image ChatGPT made to keep my spirits up. Hey “not all superpowers wear capes,” am I right? LOL

Freedom!

The cast came off on July 8th, and the doctor said it has healed perfectly. He told me to stretch and that any pain or weakness I feel is just soft tissue swelling and stiffness from being in the cast. He told me I could resume my usual routine and activities with no restrictions besides common sense. If it hurts, slow down—otherwise, I’m free!

I haven’t been out skating yet, but in the next few days, it’s definitely going to happen. I’ve already been adding very light weights in my left hand at the gym, icing it afterwards to reduce swelling, and stretching as much as I can.

Feel the fear, do it anyway

One of my coworkers told me she has a pair of roller skates in her closet that she hasn’t used since falling and injuring herself decades ago, which is a really common story (that’s why it’s so easy to find skates on FB Marketplace, barely used!). She asked if I was scared of falling again.

Of course I am! I’ve always been afraid of injuring myself, and I’ve been incredibly lucky that it was always pretty minor scapes and bruises, but I love it so much that the idea of being too scared to do it is unthinkable.

I think we all have things in our lives that carry risks and downsides that might deter other people, but we willingly set aside our fears and do them anyway.

Besides, everyone I talked to while I had my cast on was surprised when I told them I had never broken a bone before. Mostly of them pointed out various extremities of their own and listed a lifetime of injuries in sympathy and commiseration.

I’ve already bought a pair of much more robust wrist guards, and I’m planning on avoiding the intersection where I fell, until 2027 when they fix that gravel pit in the middle of the bike lane. There are miles of other bike lanes and city streets to skate…

And for the non-squeamish, here’s that gnarly road rash close-up I mentioned earlier. Stay safe out there, everyone… but more importantly, get out there and have fun. Use your body, because you’re not getting the deposit back at the end anyway!

Neurodivergence, Astrology, and the Power of Understanding

On a recent episode of the Starzology podcast I had the chance to interview Sarah Mireles, a clinical therapist based in Los Angeles who specializes in working with neurodivergent teens and their parents.

She’s not an astrologer, but she has found astrology to be a surprisingly effective tool for helping families better understand each other. After listening to our episode about addiction, she reached out and submitted a request to be a guest on our show, and I was immediately intrigued.

• Listen to the episode: Therapy and Astrology with Sarah Mireles

• Read more on Starzology.com: Therapy and Astrology

From the outset, we talked about the use of astrology as a metaphorical language. It’s not about predicting your fate or limiting your options—quite the opposite. It gives us a vocabulary to talk about our emotions and identities. It’s not about belief—it’s about what works.

The birth chart is one of the most ancient and nuanced maps of personality we have. So when Sarah told me she was interested in using astrology alongside evidence-based therapy to help parents see their children through a different lens, I knew we were going to have a fascinating conversation.

Not a Diagnosis, But a Map

Let’s get the disclaimer stuff out of the way first…

Astrology should never be used to try to tell if someone has ADHD, autism, OCD, or any other condition. Just like you can’t look at a newborn’s chart and predict their sexual orientation, or how long they’ll live. That’s not what it’s for.

Instead, the birth chart can offer another way of understanding how a person naturally thinks, learns, communicates, and experiences the world. It can indicate areas of strength, and areas of challenge, but it can’t predict exactly how they will express those gifts or handle those hardships.

Sarah talked about how parents often receive a diagnosis and suddenly have a name for the challenges they’ve been facing—which can be validating—but it doesn’t give them a framework for understanding who their child is as a unique human being.

Astrology can help provide that broader picture. But the key when combining astrology with therapy is to approach it like a roadmap, a tool for understanding, not as a way of labeling people or putting them in a box.

Different Brains, Different Strengths

We talked about the emphasis on differences rather than deficits. Every brain is different. Some people think in words. Some think in pictures. Some process information emotionally, while others need to take action, working their way through the issue before it makes sense.

Those aren’t problems that need fixing. They’re just different operating systems. The better we can understand our differences, the better our relationships will be. We may think very differently, but astrology can help us frame those differences in a way that fosters mutual understanding without stigma.

I’ve spent my life studying astrology, so I find this way of thinking incredibly natural. There are infinite, equally valid ways of moving through the world. How boring would it be if we all thought the same way?

Naturally, we spent quite a bit of time talking about Mercury, the planet associated with learning, communication, and thinking styles. An “afflicted” Mercury can often indicate early difficulties with learning, but fortunately, it’s a very fast-moving planet.

Using progressions, you can see how Mercury’s condition evolves over the course of a lifetime. What starts out as a challenge in childhood can become a strength in adulthood.

More about Mercury on Starzology.com:

• Mercury in the Birth Chart

• Mercury Aspects

Challenges and Gifts

In astrology, every placement has inherent strengths and challenges. As a Virgo, perfectionism is one trait that immediately comes to mind!

Perfectionism can be paralyzing, leading to anxiety and procrastination. The perfect is often the enemy of the good, and sometimes it’s easier to avoid committing to a project than to risk failure. But without perfectionism, we might never try to create anything.

My sewing projects, love of writing, art, burlesque, jewelry making—even roller skating, which is a hell of a learning curve! If I wasn’t obsessed with getting good at it, I might have quit after the first several hard falls on my ass. But here I am, eight years later, a much stronger skater and more mentally healthy because I powered through the setbacks, constantly improving. (Read about how I became a roller girl, if you haven’t already!)

The same is true of hyperfocus, emotional sensitivity, and many other unconventional ways of thinking. The same traits that create difficulties in one environment, like the classroom, can become extraordinary strengths in another.

Astrology, especially the modern, psychology-focused style practiced by Alison and myself, tries not to cast any placement as 100% “good” or “bad.” Everything exists on a spectrum.

Helping Parents See Their Children Differently

One idea that really stood out for me in my conversation with Sarah was the reminder that neurodivergent teens aren’t trying to be difficult. They’re often responding to overwhelming brain signals in the only way they know how.

That may sound simplistic, but it can be a profound shift in perspective for parents. Instead of asking, “Why won’t my child just do what I’ve asked?” they can begin asking, “What’s happening in my child’s nervous system right now?”

That shift can help parents see from the child’s perspective, and frame their interactions differently. By giving their child the benefit of the doubt, they can move towards a way of interacting that empowers the child, giving them a range of choices rather than ultimatums.

Tell Me a Success Story

Sarah shared a wonderful example from her practice involving a teenager who constantly resisted basic hygiene, like brushing their teeth. The parents were understandably stressed, but the more they pushed, the more their teen reacted with resistance.

Working with Sarah, they were able to shift their approach to one of understanding. It wasn’t about the act of brushing their teeth. It was about autonomy. Instead of doubling down with consequences and punishment, they tried something unintuitive: offering their teen options that respected their independence.

As soon as the teen felt more in control, their resistance gradually dissolved, and they were able to meet their parents somewhere in the middle.

This story is a beautiful reminder that building relationships is more important than enforcing rules, another belief that’s close to my heart.

Understanding Leads to Healing

Another theme we kept coming back to was compassion. Astrology isn’t about predicting your future or excusing antisocial traits (“of course I’m impatient, I’m an Aries”). It’s about understanding yourself and the people around you.

Whether we’re looking at a birth chart or working through challenges in a therapist’s office, we’re ultimately asking the same question: Who is this person, really? How can we relate, even when we disagree? Where do we meet in the middle, and how can I try to understand the areas of our greatest difference?

Astrology gives us a symbolic language for understanding, while also creating a buffer that avoids blame and stigmatizing our differences.

I thoroughly enjoyed my conversation with Sarah, and I think parents, therapists, astrologers, and anyone interested in human behavior will find it fascinating.

Listen to the episode: Therapy and Astrology with Sarah Mireles

Where to Find Sarah Mireles Online

• Sarah Mireles Therapy

• Contact Sarah Mireles

One of my favorite things about co-hosting the Starzology podcast is getting to meet intriguing people whose lives have taken very different paths, but which have led to an intersection with topics I find fascinating—in this case, astrology and tarot reading.

This month, while I’m recovering from a fractured wrist and unable to comfortably type with both hands, I’m reposting my recent series of interviews on the Starzology podcast, in case you missed them. Please make sure you’re subscribed wherever you listen to podcasts!

A Wide Spectrum of Guest Speakers

A few months ago, when we crossed a certain threshold in our monthly downloads, we got a flood of inquiries from potential guests to be on the podcast. I responded to most of them, whether or not they really seemed to have anything to do with astrology.

If you’ve been reading my last few posts, you will have seen my interviews with musician Mark Winters and astrologer Thomas Gazis. There were many others—including a party planner, a YA science fiction author, and more than a few niche self-help gurus—that never got past the initial exchange of emails.

Clearly, AI is doing some behind-the-scenes matchmaking, as well as writing the introductory letters (which is totally fine—I get it, no one likes writing cover letters!), but often the first question that came to my mind was “why us?!” But hey, if they think they would be a good fit, I’ll almost always reply and give them a chance.

So when someone reached out to us saying that Cardsy B (aka Rebecca), an astrologer, tarot reader, author, podcaster, and self-described “wellness witch” based in New York City, was interested in being a guest on our podcast, we were genuinely excited. I reached out, and we quickly scheduled an interview.

• Check out the Starzology post for more on this episode

• Listen to the episode: Cardsy B on Starzology

My Conversation with Cardsy B

This was a true meeting of the minds, and we immediately slipped into an easy exchange. One thing that made our conversation so engaging was how open she was about the challenges that ultimately led her to the dream of making a living doing what she loves full time.

After a devastating Saturn Return (which happens around age 28-30, when Saturn returns to the exact spot in its orbit where it was the day you were born) that brought personal loss, financial hardship, and the end of her marriage, Cardsy B rebuilt her life from the ground up, eventually turning her lifelong passion for tarot and astrology into a thriving career.

As we talked, I realized we had even more in common than I expected. We laughed and cringed recalling the dark chapters of our lives marked by our Saturn Returns. Hers involved losing her career, marriage, and financial security. Mine involved losing my job and being evicted from my apartment when I couldn’t pay my rent (the worst fear of anyone with Saturn in Cancer, the sign of the home!).

Saturn may be a tough teacher, but its lessons often—ideally anyway—provide us with a strong foundation to for the next chapter of our lives. By the time the second Saturn Return comes around, at the age of 58, hopefully we’ve internalized its lessons and find ourselves looking back on the first one as the crisis that turned us into stronger, more resilient, more independent versions of ourselves. #adulting lol

United in Badass

Which is not to say our conversation was all Saturn and gloom! I had to laugh when I learned that the first tarot deck she designed (her background is in advertising and graphic design) is called Badass Bitches Tarot, while my artwork has focused on Badass Goddesses for years. Clearly we share an appreciation for strong, inspiring women—and a love of profanity!

We talked about how Cardsy B taught herself tarot as a child, later discovering astrology through the zodiacal correspondences within the tarot. Today she blends astrology, tarot, and numerology in her client work, hosts the Hex in the City podcast, and is the author of The Saturn Diaries, a combination memoir and modern grimoire. Her second tarot deck, inspired by New York City witches, is currently in the works.

Toward the end of the interview, we discussed the turbulent astrological climate we’re all navigating this year and drew a collective tarot card for guidance. We agreed that the divination tools for which we both have an affinity are less about predicting the future and more about navigating life’s challenges with resilience, self-awareness, and compassion—for ourselves and others.

We could have easily talked for another hour, and we both agreed we’d love to collaborate again, so I’m hopeful this won’t be our last conversation!

If you enjoy thoughtful discussions about astrology, tarot, creativity, and the unexpected twists and turns our lives can take on the way to finding our true calling, I think you’ll really enjoy this episode. Give it a listen!

• Check out my previous post on Tarot Decks in my collection.

Find Cardsy B Online:

• Website: https://www.cardsyb.com/

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cardsyb/

• Podcast: https://www.cardsyb.com/podcast

I recently interviewed Greek astrologer Thomas Gazis for the Starzology podcast. In this two-part discussion, we did a deep dive into two areas of astrology that are close to Thomas’ heart, a relationship analysis technique he calls “latent synastry,” and mundane astrology, the study of nations and historical cycles.

Perhaps not coincidentally, these are also two topics I find fascinating! In case you missed these interviews, make sure you’re subscribed to the Starzology podcast, and check out the original posts linked below for more details and all the specific charts discussed.

I’m reposting several interviews here this month while I’m recovering from a fractured wrist, which makes typing with both hands a challenge.

Part 1: Latent Synastry Chart Comparison Technique

Listen here: Latent Astrology with Thomas Gazis
Read the Starzology post to see all the charts mentioned in this episode

In this episode, I spoke with Thomas Gazis about his innovative concept of latent synastry, a technique that reveals hidden compatibility between partners whose charts might appear mismatched at first glance.

Gazis explains that many successful couples do not fit traditional astrological expectations based on Sun sign compatibility. Through decades of observation, he noticed long-lasting relationships between seemingly incompatible signs like Taurus–Aquarius or Cancer–Libra.

To explain this phenomenon, he developed the idea of archetypal affinities—connections that arise when planetary placements in houses express the energy of particular zodiac signs.

For example, someone with the Sun in the 5th house may embody Leonine qualities, as the 5th house is naturally Leo’s house, while a Moon in the 8th house may express Scorpionic depth, since the 8th house is the natural house of Scorpio. These parallels can create powerful bonds between partners even when their Sun signs clash.

Gazis illustrates the concept with examples from well-known couples, showing how house placements and planetary connections can replicate sign archetypes and create deeper compatibility. He also emphasizes that synastry should never be judged by Sun signs alone.

Progressed Charts

Another theme we discussed is the importance of progressed charts in relationship analysis. As we constantly evolve throughout our lives, progressions reveal how we grow and change over time. As two people’s progressed Suns change signs over the course of 30 years, for example, the emotional and psychological dynamics within their relationship will naturally transform as well.

Beyond technique, Gazis reflects on the deeper meaning of intimate relationships. Rather than existing purely for happiness or entertainment, he argues, intimate partnerships serve a profound evolutionary purpose, requiring individuals to transcend ego and undergo personal transformation.

We agreed that modern dating apps risk reducing relationships to transactions like online shopping—or worse, gambling—weakening the mysterious and transformative qualities that these meaningful connections hold in favor of a system that serves the algorithm and keeps people swiping for the next dopamine hit.

Part 2: Mundane Astrology

In the second episode, we turned our attention to mundane astrology, which is the application of astrology to the study of nations, world events and historical cycles.

Listen here: Mundane Astrology with Thomas Gazis
Read the Starzology post

Gazis explains that his approach has been shaped by influential thinkers like Dane Rudhyar and Richard Tarnas, while also drawing on his own decades of observation.

We discussed how the cycles and connections between the outer planets describe distinct historical trends and political movements, while their transits through particular signs reflect shifts in collective human experience.

In particular, he emphasizes the significance of outer planets moving through the final quadrant of the zodiac—Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces—which are considered the collective or societal signs.

Gazis shares his long-standing concern about the implications of Pluto’s movement through these signs. While many astrologers have celebrated Pluto’s entry into Aquarius as a harbinger of innovation and democratic progress, Gazis argues that Pluto’s destructive influence must always be considered.

Similar to the way Pluto in Capricorn saw a global breakdown in once-trusted institutions and authority figures, Pluto in Aquarius will intensify darker collective dynamics, including technological warfare, social upheaval, and heightened global tensions in the areas of AI, automation, the meaning of collective truth and the divide between haves and have nots.

Planetary Resonance Cycles

Another major theme of our discussion is the idea of planetary resonance cycles, particularly a roughly 500-year pattern Gazis has identified in which several outer planets return to similar zodiacal positions.

He notes striking parallels between current planetary placements and those present in the early 16th century, when European colonial expansion began reshaping the world. He talks about how he feels Europe is now entering a period of cultural and geopolitical decline.

Throughout our conversation, Gazis illustrates how studying historical parallels in planetary cycles can help us anticipate major collective developments—from global conflicts to shifting centers of cultural power—while reminding us that the full meaning of these planetary patterns often only becomes clear in hindsight.

For More Thomas Gazis Online:

Gazis is a prolific writer and astrologer, covering political topics and exploring a variety of astrological techniques. Check out his website here:

• Thomas Gazis: Science Astrology

Next Week:

I’ll be reposting my interview with New York based astrologer and tarot card reader Cardsy B! It’s a great conversation, so I’ll see you back here next Saturday.

In the meantime, make sure you’re subscribed to the Starzology podcast!

A couple of months ago, I started a new series of interviews for the Starzology podcast, of which I’m a cohost. I’ll be reposting those interviews here over the next few weeks while I recover from my fractured wrist, which makes typing very difficult. Please make sure to follow us wherever you get your podcasts, and subscribe to the Starzology newsletter to get the latest episodes every Sunday.

In this episode of the Starzology podcast, I spoke with musician Mark Winters, whose unusual path to music began in the world of engineering and physics. Mark originally trained in aerospace engineering and worked extensively with computational fluid dynamics and advanced mathematics.

Listen to the episode: Mark Winters on Starzology

Early Origins

Although science came naturally to him, creativity was never far away. As a child he was influenced by both sides of his family. His grandmother wrote poetry and painted impressionistic landscapes, while his grandfather was an electrical engineer who also created detailed pen-and-ink drawings.

Mark’s musical journey began unexpectedly in 2011 when he decided to learn guitar as a surprise anniversary gift for his wife. Performing a song for her proved to be a transformative moment that sparked what he describes as an “obsession” with music.

Since then he has fully embraced songwriting and performance, even completing two major tours last year that included 120 shows and roughly 20,000 miles of travel on each tour.

Check out Starzology’s post on Mark Winters’ chart

Mark’s Chart

During the conversation we explored how Mark’s astrology chart reflects this blend of discipline and creativity. With Capricorn rising and Mars in the first house, he has a determined, self-directed drive. His Leo Moon in the seventh house speaks to his joy in performing and sharing music with others.

Several planets in the eleventh house, including Neptune, Uranus and Venus in Sagittarius, suggest collaboration, community, and an expansive artistic outlook. Mercury conjunct Uranus helps explain his flashes of creative insight, while Venus conjunct Jupiter in the twelfth house reflects his tendency to develop artistic ideas privately before sharing them.

Mark also described his songwriting process, which blends analytical thinking with intuition. Free writing, vocal training, and poetic lyric development help him balance the scientist and artist within him.

Brought Together by AI

When I asked Mark how he discovered the Starzology podcast, he explained that he uses AI-generated recommendation lists while on tour, to find new podcasts to listen to during those long hours on the road.

A month later, when Mark came through Vancouver, I checked out his show at the Heatley with a couple of friends, and we took a picture together.

Find Mark Online:

Mark Winters Music

Mark Winters YouTube Channel

Mark Winters on Instagram

Starzology Interviews

If you’re interested in astrology, you can find all the episodes on the Starzology Podcast website. You can also listen and subscribe on Apple Music, Spotify, and YouTube (audio only).

Next week, I’ll be posting a recap of my interview with Greek Astrologer Thomas Gazis. Here’s an AI-generated collage capturing the spirit of these two interviews. :)

Why Revisit?
I’m unfortunately recovering from a fractured wrist (the left one, but still!), which makes typing pretty uncomfortable. I’ll be sending out new blog posts, like I did last week, but I’ll also resend some older articles to give my right hand a break over the next five weeks. Enjoy revisiting this exploration of one of my favorite topics, popular neuroscience!

The Mind and the Brain

I'm absolutely fascinated by how the human brain works, and many of the books I own are some variation on this theme, from Malcolm Gladwell to V.S. Ramachandran, Oliver Sacks, Jill Bolte Taylor and a myriad of other doctors, historians, scientists and popular science writers.

The topics cover a huge spectrum: the history of neuroscience, brain surgery and chemistry, mental health studies and the ever-changing categorizations of mental illness, research into abnormal minds, genius vs. madness, altered states of consciousness, psychedelic science, nootropics, mind medications and mood drugs, neuroplasticity, developments in psychology, psychoanalysis, intelligence tests, personality tests, MKULTRA, brainwashing, propaganda, and everything in between.

Book Tour: The Red Shelf

• Altered States by James Hughes

• Reefer Madness by Eric Schlosser

• Strange Brains and Genius by Clifford R Pickover

• The Magic Thread by Richard Idemon

• The Book of Pluto by Stephen Forrest

• For the Journey by Laurie Strong

• The Mind and the Brain by Jeffrey M. Schwartz, MD and Sharon Begley

• Fear and Loathing in America by Hunter S Thompson

• Awaken the Genius by Patrick K. Porter, PhD

• Debt the First 5,000 years by David Graeber

• The Corporation by Joel Bakan

• Cosmic Trends by Philip Brown

• Love Signs by Linda Goodman

• At the Point of a Cutlass by Gregory N. Fleming

• Pad: the Guide to Ultra-Living by Matt Moranian

If you read enough popular science books on the brain you will come across many of the same tropes and stories over and over again, like the story of Phineas Gage and the horrific accident that caused an iron spike to be driven through his brain, resulting in personality changes that ruined his personal life but benefited the study of neuroscience almost immeasurably.

The gorilla basketball attention test, BF Skinner and his behavioralist research, Pavlov's dogs, the Stanford Prison experiment, lobotomies and electroshock therapy, the notorious experiment where participants were asked to shock fellow testers and raised the voltage to deadly levels just because they were instructed to.

Many of these tropes come with serious caveats and the true stories are often much murkier than the single-paragraph or chapter takeaways would have you believe. I've often thought about making a brain science bingo card with a square for each of these studies or stories that have become widespread to the point of cliché in popular science writing. Another common topic is previous misunderstandings or debunked theories...

​​​​​Top five brain myths

1. The 10% trope Probably the most popular misnomer these books like to debunk is the idea that we only use 10% of our brain, now understood to be the result of a misunderstanding of historical studies. MRIs (magnetic resonance imaging) now provide visual insight into the parts of the brain at work when we do certain tasks, or imagine doing them, or view or hear certain stimuli.
   
   The various parts light up in beautiful, mostly predictable patterns. We now understand that while we don't use 100% of our brains all the time, if you test the same person over a wide enough range of areas, you will eventually see very nearly all the brain light up at some point.

2. "X" kills brain cells Then there's the myth that neurons are inevitably decimated by time, drinking, drugs, etc. It was previously thought that the number of neurons we had were set and died off over time to the point where mental degradation after a certain age, or as a result of drinking, partying, etc. was inevitable.
   
   Now we know that moderation is the key to most things, and a healthy diet, exercise, good genes, keeping your brain active through education, novel experiences and social connections, plus a little bit of luck, can go a long way towards protecting brain health well into senescence.

3. Right brain/Left brain You'll often see right brain vs. left brain thinking described as a myth but really it's more like a useful metaphor used by self-help gurus and creatives to describe a person's orientation toward either analytical, verbal, linear thinking (left hemisphere) or abstract, creative, spatial and holistic thinking (right hemisphere).
   
   While it's technically true that both hemispheres of the brain do equal work in most normal brains free of specific damage to one hemisphere, it's also absolutely true that there are specific, hemispheric differences and that certain regions control certain types of thought and function.
   
   The brain is all about division of labor at its most efficient and beautiful. For an amazing illustration of exactly how this works, and what happens when it suddenly doesn't, watch Jill Bolte Taylor's mind-blowing TED Talk on her "stroke of insight."

4. The "chemical imbalance" cause of mood disorders This is less a myth than a wickedly successful marketing campaign that became so widely adopted, many people think it's a fact. Back in the day, the fledgling SSRI industry used this catchphrase to market antidepressants, and now they're prescribed to tens of millions of people for whom life in our late-stage capitalist dystopia has failed to be the endless joyride of adventure, achievement and acceptance they were somehow led to believe it should be.
   
   Worse than that, entire generations have grown up thinking it's okay to prescribe speed to millions of children just because they don't like to sit still in class. Don't get me wrong... depression is real, anxiety is real, your problems are valid! Everyone is different and everyone deserves to be happy.
   
   But millions of kids addicted to speed before they've even hit puberty? That's not evidence of a "chemical imbalance," it's a red flag of a society in free fall.

5. Our brains are more complex than the galaxy There's an oft-quoted statistic that there are more neurons in the brain than there are stars in the night sky, which turns out to be (only) a slight exaggeration.
   
   The human brain is incredibly complex, with current estimates putting the count of neurons at about 86 billion, compared to 200 to 400 billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy. Still pretty fucking impressive if you ask me.

Understanding ourselves

These days, the brain is most often compared to a computer and we talk about our brains in terms of computing power, glitches, system overload, random access memory, maybe even defragging the hard drive, LOL.

My grandmother noticed this back in the early 90s and told me that when she was in school the human body was often compared to an automobile, a relatively new technology in the 1930s when she was in school.

The digestive system was compared to the combustion engine, ingesting fuel and outputting energy, etc. We humans are perpetually inventing systems in our own image, and those inventions go on to become metaphors we use to better understand ourselves.

As much as we've learned about the brain over the last 150 years, and as amazing as recent developments have been in terms of neuroplasticity, brain computer interfaces, the ever-expanding array of mind-altering substances, mood and behavior drugs, microdosing psychedelics, etc., what's most exciting to me are the breakthroughs yet to be made...

Cranial implants granting miraculous abilities to people suffering from paralysis, revolutions in the treatment of patients in comas, novel methods of enabling people to communicate despite speech impairments due to brain damage, potential cures for Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and dementia, novel treatments for concussions, traumatic brain injury and brain cancer.

Even the potentially terrifying concept of reading people's thoughts via computer, recording your dreams and AI-assisted telepathy are absolutely fascinating. For me, learning about the brain is like learning about outer space. It fills me with wonder, curiosity and optimism for the future of humanity... precious commodities in this day and age, or any, really.

The Norns are a trio of female giantesses in Norse mythology who shape the destinies of both gods and humans. They’re similar to the Fates—or Moirai—in Greek mythology, but with a hard, Northern European edge: older, colder, and considerably less accommodating.

They sit beside Urðarbrunnr, the Well of Fate, beneath Yggdrasil, the World Tree, tending its roots and weaving the world tapestry from threads representing the lives of every person and deity. By drawing water from the Well, and packing clay around the trunk of the tree, they prevent its roots from rotting.

Urðr (Wyrd) represents the past. Her name is associated with fate, destiny, and that seemingly incidental collection of choices and events that brought you to this exact moment. She governs what has already been woven into the world tapestry. A fate once woven cannot be altered; your destiny must simply be met with courage.

Verðandi represents the present. Her name means “becoming,” making her the Norn of the eternal now, the point where possibility hardens into reality and your carefully laid plans collide with the cold, hard facts of life. Her name is derived from the Old Norse word “verða,” meaning to become.

Skuld represents the future. Her name translates as “debt” or “that which is owed,” suggesting that the future isn’t a blank slate so much as the bill that eventually comes due. In true Norse fashion, this is both factual and incredibly ominous. Skuld is unsurprisingly the most feared of the Norns.

While her two sisters weave the threads of destiny, Skuld often rides out onto the battlefield as a shield-maiden to determine who will die in combat, and to ferry the bravest of the slain to Valhalla, the VIP afterlife reserved for heroes.

The Norns don’t merely predict the future, they create it. And gods are tied to their fates every bit as much as humans are. Even Odin, the Allfather, who sacrificed an eye for wisdom and, like so many patriarchs of ancient myth, was always looking for cosmic loopholes, couldn’t overrule them.

In the hands of the Norns, your fate isn’t just about what will happen to you. It’s about the tangled relationship between past, present, and future. It’s an ever-changing tapestry, and our lives are the strings that create it. Our life strings come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. They may be short or long, faint or bold, but they’re all woven together in infinite complexity.

The Future

The Norns would definitely disagree with Sarah Connor’s advice to her son in Terminator 2: Judgment Day: “The future's not set. There's no fate but what we make for ourselves.“

The Norns’ version of this modern aphorism might be something like, “The present is still being written, but the future and the past are intertwined. Not even the gods can escape their fate.”

The Norns in Popular Culture

The Norns appear quite often in modern books, movies, and TV shows, and even video games. This may be because they’re among mythology’s earliest examples of the idea that your future is shaped by your past and present choices, not just the whims of the all-seeing gods.

It’s a surprisingly modern concept, wrapped in a myth of three giant women sitting under a cosmic tree, quietly deciding the fates of gods and humans alike.

Götterdämmerung — (“Twilight of the Gods”) is an opera by Richard Wagner, first performed on August 17, 1876, which opens on the three Norns weaving the rope of destiny and discussing the fate of gods and mortals. It is one of the most famous modern retellings of the Norns outside the original myths.

American Gods — Neil Gaiman’s 2001 novel, on which the Bryan Fuller TV series was based, draws heavily on Norse mythology. In the TV show, the Norns tend the roots of the World Tree during Mr. Wednesday’s vigil, and help supervise Shadow Moon’s sacrificial hanging.

The Sandman — In the iconic comic book series, Neil Gaiman merges the three Fates of Greek mythology with the Norns and the Furies, so that the become a single entity, the ultimate triple goddess. They are omniscient sisters representing the Maiden, Mother, and Crone who spin, measure, and cut the threads of fate.

God of War Ragnarök — In this 2022 game, the Norns appear as powerful seers who challenge Kratos’ assumptions about fate and prophecy. The game’s interpretation is particularly clever because the Norns don’t simply predict the future through magic; they understand people so well they can anticipate their choices.

Assassin’s Creed Valhalla — Another popular role playing game that incorporates the Norns and the Well of Fate into its mythological storylines.

Vikings — This Norse themed TV series (2013-2020) frequently references fate, prophecy, and the woven destinies of its characters, echoing themes traditionally associated with the Norns.

Recently, a few of my favorite ongoing series wrapped up their very successful second seasons with announcements they’ll be back for just one more. Paradise and The Last of Us will call it quits after their upcoming third seasons, while Silo will end after four, but they’re filming seasons three and four simultaneously to preserve the kinetic arc of the trilogy of novels on which the show is based.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy more of a good thing just as much as the next person, but I respect the hell out of creators who have enough restraint and artistic integrity to map out a cohesive narrative and stick with it, even when success dangles the temptation of an endless run, which almost never ends well.

Best of the Least

Some of the best TV dramas of all time have ended intentionally, on their own terms, after an incredibly strong and comparably brief run of three seasons:

1. Legion:
   The platonic ideal of a perfect three season arc. Criminally underseen, with even diehard Marvel fans unaware this masterfully original standalone series ever existed. Legion was so creative, so cool and weird, it made you feel as batshit crazy as the main character at times, questioning what if anything you were watching, was “real.”
   
   Arguably that kind of plate spinning magic is unsustainable on a long enough timeline, but creator Noah Hawley never planned to keep it going indefinitely. Go watch the trailer and if you’re still not convinced, I’ll drop it… Maybe.

2. The Leftovers:
   Every season of this show wrapped up in a satisfying conclusion that would have left fans wishing for more, but not bitter that they were left with unanswered questions or unfinished character arcs. They told us upfront, we’re never going to answer the BIG question this show is based on. Then they took us on a wild ride with an emotional pay off that was better than we could have hoped.

3. The Killing:
   If you could hang with with the initial trauma and bleakness of the first episode, which delivered an emotional gut punch, and promised unprecedented levels of unrelenting, rain-soaked darkness and suffering, this show held together on the pure, intense chemistry of its co-stars, Joel Kinnaman and Mirielle Enos, and a stellar supporting cast that included Michelle Forbes, Peter Sarsgaard, and Brent Sexton.

4. Dark: Tailor-made for the generation that was primed to think in multiverse terms, this show was unbelievably smart, challenging, brilliantly crafted, and utterly baffling. Despite its insanely convoluted multiple-timeline story, which by season three was like a madman’s murder board of interconnected quantum plot lines, Dark stuck the landing exactly as intended, leaving no doubt that every step was intentional.

5. Happy Valley and Broadchurch: Two of the most perfect British crime dramas of the mid-2010s. Broadchurch stars the impeccable David Tennant and Olivia Colman. If you haven’t seen these shows and you love a tightly-crafted, perfectly acted murder mystery that ends exactly when it should, I highly recommend both.
   
   The British have always understood the value of a shorter, more impactful arc that leaves the audience sated, not overstuffed.

Cancelled Too Soon

If you were looking closely at the header of this post, you may have noticed that I included Hannibal, one of my favorite shows of all time. The lush cinematography, the gorgeous musical score, the mythic absurdity of murder and cannibalism on the surface, with the not-so-subtle subtext being the ultimate impossible love story… Serial killers as tragic Olympian gods/monsters.

Hannibal started out at a nine and sustained an incredibly intense pace for two seasons, only to crank up the emotional impact and blood-soaked, surreal-gothic imagery to 11 in the third season.

It did indeed end after three seasons, but not because the showrunner Brian Fuller, or any of the ridiculously talented cast (including Mads Mikkelson, Hugh Dancy, Gillian Anderson, Laurence Fishburne, and Gina Torres, among others) wanted it to.

Bryan Fuller meant for Hannibal to last at least four or five seasons, and die-hard fans are still holding out the faintest hope that one day they’ll come back to wrap things up like an exquisite meal of mysterious origin, not on the literal cliffhanger that ended season three. (It was still one of the best season finales of any show, ever.)

It’s absolutely mental that this show ran on NBC, given what they got past the censors. Somewhere, in an alternate universe, we got the Netflix or HBO version of this show, and I often wish we lived in that universe.

Mindhunter didn’t even make it to season three before the cost of production outweighed the benefits of viewership. Maybe in 2017 and 2018 there was just too much excellent television out there to compete, and this perfect gem of a series got lost in the shuffle. It’s still on Netflix for anyone who hasn’t seen it, and you can burn through the entire series in a weekend.

On the Other Hand

I’m not saying there’s anything inherently better about a short three- or four-season arc. Some other excellent shows, like Severence, Fallout, and The Pitt, have just been renewed for a third season, and show no signs of slowing down or wrapping up any time soon. Long may they reign!

Many of the best shows of all time took five or six seasons to tell a complex, and completely satisfying story. Think The Wire, Breaking Bad, and The Sopranos. Succession and The Good Place were four seasons, and Mad Men was a perfect seven.

Comedies are a completely different animal. The Simpsons has been going strong (your mileage may vary) for 36 seasons. South Park, 27. Granted those are animated series, so they don’t have to worry about an aging cast or salary demands.

Although the best comedy series—say Parks and Recreation, 30 Rock, Cheers, Friends, Veep, Hacks, and so on—mix laughs with pathos, allow their characters to evolve over time, and introduce new cast members, maybe even change locations to keep things fresh, they always rely on formula and repetition, whereas dramas must constantly move the story forward.

A Multiverse of Meh

For years, the Hollywood machine has leaned into more is better, the “cinematic universe” approach, churning out content based on existing IP and pumping more and more money into its successful franchises until we grow to hate them.

Consider the vitriol that Marvel Studios faced when announcing Robert Downey Jr., who heroically died as Iron Man in Avengers: Endgame, would return to play Dr. Doom. The message from superfans was clear: sometimes it’s better to stay dead.

Why struggle to conceive and market a brand new idea when you can remix and repackage a long-dead, fondly remembered series (Arrested Development, Dexter, Frasier, Roseanne, That 70s Show, Twin Peaks, Will & Grace)? Because the reanimated corpse never comes back the way we remember them.

And then there are the endless spin-offs and reboots of shows we once loved, which keep hitting the “continue” button long after the magic is gone. Even the most devoted Star Wars fan must, at some point, think enough is enough.

But when a show’s popularity outpaces its creativity, it can hobble along without a clue where it’s headed long after it should have ended. The toxic blend of greed and hubris (Game of Thrones) or sheer delusion (The Walking Dead) can squander the love and devotion of a massive early success until, by the end, what we once adored is a shambling, undead shadow of its former self.

The lesson to show runners? The same as every zombie movie teaches us. Kill off your darlings before they turn into something grotesque.

Did I miss your favorite short-run television masterpiece? Tell me in the comments!

Mami Wata (literally “Mother Water”) is an African goddess of fresh water, often depicted as a mermaid or snake charmer. She’s revered in Central, West, and Southern Africa as a symbol of fertility, abundance, health, and wealth.

Mami Wata represents the dual nature of water, without which life as we know it would not exist, but water in excess or in the form of a hurricane, storm surge, or flood, is among the most destructive forces on earth.

Earth and Water

In astrology, earth and water are the feminine elements, while air and fire are masculine. Earth gives life and shape to matter; it is stable and supportive, giving form to living structures and nurturing all the flora and fauna that rely on it for sustenence.

Earth in the form of soil produces plant life, the basis of the entire food chain, while earth in the form of mountains seems unyielding and eternal until the primal forces beneath it cause it to shake, erupt, and explode in catastrophic violence.

Water takes the shape of whatever vessel holds it. Without the molecules that form water in our atmosphere, no life would exist on our planet. It would be a barren, wind-swept wasteland like Mars. Even the most seemingly passive bodies of water contain the building blocks of life and, at the molecular level, water is constantly in motion.

Water covers over 70% of the globe, from the vast oceans to the mighty rivers, to the millions of lakes and streams, and all that water is connected through the rain cycle that replenishes and distributes it like the lifeblood of a living organism.

Take away our salt-laden oceans, which make up 97.5% of the water on earth, and only 2.5% of the water supply consists of fresh water. A further 68% of that exists as glacial ice at the planet’s poles.

Water is Life

Understanding this, we begin to see what the ancients instinctively grasped, that fresh water is the single most important element to our survival.

Human beings can only survive for a few days without water. Depending on environmental conditions, general health, and other factors, a week to 10 days seems to be the maximum.

There are of course outliers and anecdotal accounts of people surviving several weeks without water, but that is highly unusual. Our bodies are made up of around 70-75% water, so the longer we go without it, the faster our organs and living systems break down.

But since the dawn of recorded history, mass death has also been associated with an abundance of water. Nearly every religious tradition has a flood myth, where the earth’s inhabitants were inundated and swept away, whether as punishment for their sins or as the result of capricious deities who cared little about human suffering.

The big three human necessities are food, water, and shelter, and shelter is often designed to shield us from the incursion of water. We built our first towns and cities on the banks of rivers because that’s where the earth was most fertile. Later, those tributaries made essential travel and trade with other civilizations possible.

Water is Power

But rivers are capricious and unpredictable providers, flooding when the rains come too fast, and sweeping away the fragile settlements that cling to their banks for survival. When the rains are too sparse, the rivers dry up and the people that depend of them starve—or adapt, learning to store grain and cure meats to last them through the dry seasons.

In this way, the cycles of water contributed to our evolution, not only feeding our (quite literally) thirsty brains, but making us into a species that thrived because we learned to plan; to document the rise and fall of the water table, to track the flows of rivers, and to dig wells so we could ultimately harness the element of water.

For much of human history, the most powerful rulers were those who gained control of those life-giving waterways. Inventing seafaring vessels, mapping trade routes, creating irrigation and sewer systems, aqueducts, and indoor plumbing to name just a few of the massive contributors to human innovation involving water, which enabled our species to rise to the top of food chain.

Now, fresh water cools the massive server farms that power the internet, the digital infrastructure that powers our modern world. Turn off the water supply, and our global systems of communication, governance, and finance would grind to a halt as quickly as an electromagnetic storm could turn off the power.

Mami Wata

So let’s all take a moment to express our gratitude to the goddess who rules the capricious and incalculably valuable element of water. But let’s not forget, she’s also a seductive and mesmerizing mermaid, who has a lot to say about the double-edged sword of female power.

Strength comes in many forms, and soft power—the power to influence, to charm, to entice, to cajole—can be used to greater effect than the brute force of fury and fists when wielded with malice, or carelessness.

Female Power

“My love for you is like a candle.
Forget me, and I’ll burn your fucking house down.”
— Internet meme

So Mami Wata is a goddess who rules the most powerful and unpredictable element on earth, but she’s also a singularly feminine deity. She doesn’t concern herself with war or creation on a grand scale; she rules the realms typically associated with female power; beauty, seduction, attraction, intuition, and the desire for wealth and comfort.

Men (and women) are ruled by their passions, and those passions can easily lead them into temptation, jealousy, and destructive actions. The mythologies of the world are full of stories about the horrors enacted by men (and women) in the name of unrequited desire. The history of the world is the history of desire, of one group coveting the assets of others, and of the powerful rulers who conquer each other to possess them.

Mami Wata is all about the power of desire, and great responsibility comes with that kind of power. All kinds of power command respect, because every form of power—physical, emotional, sexual, financial, intellectual, or elemental—can be used for good or for ill.

The moral of these stories is part empowerment, part warning. Pray to the goddess for the riches and rewards that you think will make you happy, but beware you don’t abuse that power once you attain it.

Check out my RedBubble shop for Mami Wata and other badass goddess products.

The photos I shared a few weeks ago were taken backstage and by Fubarfoto, which sets up automatic cameras at the front (and sometimes back) of the stage to capture dozens of pictures throughout the performance.

The professional photos (taken by David Jacklin) and video (courtesy of one of my fellow butterflies, Jess Roh) always come later, sometimes long after the glow of performing has faded away.

Glitter Crash

That “fading away” has a name in the burlesque community, the “glitter crash.” It’s defined as that empty, post-performance feeling of malaise and melancholy that you inevitably feel after the weeks of practice, rehearsals, putting your costume together, and finally getting to perform to a room full of strangers, friends, and family, are over.

The immediate feeling is a combination of relief and elation, as the last of the pre-show adrenaline floods your system with endorphins. You can finally relax for the first time, after weeks of memorizing choreography and hours of last-minute practice and watching the rehearsal videos backstage.

You’ve drilled that one turn you kept messing up so many times, added more sequins and jewelry, eyeliner and hairspray, played on your phone to distract yourself, tried to avoid drinking too much water because the more anxious you are, the more you think you have to pee anyway…

Then you’re filing up the stairs to wait in the wings (in your literal wings, in this case), listening to the music of the performance before yours, checking to make sure all your crew is together, making nervous small talk until you hear the applause that means you’re up next…

And then you’re onstage. You remember to smile, you nail all the moves, or sometimes you don’t, and that’s okay (but this time I did!). The audience roars and cheers with approval, and that’s it—it’s over so quickly.

If your brief moment on stage came at the beginning of the show like mine did, you can change into civilian clothes and stand at the back of the hall, have a drink, and watch the rest of the show, cheering and whooping along with the audience as the other performers take their turns.

Aftermath

But the next day, there it is, as you’re putting away your costume pieces and cleaning stray glitter off the bathroom counter—that feeling of “now what?”

I was really tempted this time to jump right into another show. I almost joined a 5-week class with Melody Mangler, but in the end, I decided to wait. She has another class coming up later this summer, which sounds amazing… something about mermaids, so more on that later!

I did take a one-off class at Passion and Performance with the exceptionally talented Kyra Taylor. You can see a video of that here:

Almost Summer

For now it’s almost summer and I’m spending every sunny afternoon skating or sitting on patios with friends, attending daytime raves, biking, and laying in the sun. This is the season I live for!

As many of you know, I recently started a new contract as a Marketing Manager for a quantum computing company. It’s a fascinating field on the cutting edge of physics and engineering, and I’ve entered at a time that’s ripe for innovation and discovery.

What is Quantum?

First, let’s define “quantum” in this context. The dictionary (okay, Google AI lol) definition is: The smallest discrete, countable unit of any physical entity, such as energy, light, or matter.

Quantum physics is the fundamental study of matter and energy at the atomic and subatomic scales, where classical physics laws do not apply.

In science fiction, quantum technology is often used as a device to explore the concept of parallel worlds, or the “multiverse,” where infinite versions of our reality exist side by side (so to speak) and can be accessed in some way.

The mechanism of access can be physical (i.e., through some kind of machine, vessel, portal, device, etc.) or mental; through hypnosis, psychedelic drugs, dreams, near death states, actual death, or a combination thereof (technological upload, consciousness swapping or splitting the self into multiple versions, etc.).

Quantum Fiction vs. Quantum Reality

But that’s not what I’m here to talk about today! The implications of quantum computing are endlessly intriguing, but no more intriguing than the mind-bending sub-genre of science fiction exploring the idea of multiverses vibrating around us in infinite iterations.

Delving into the speculative futures that may unfold as we learn to harness and manipulate quantum entanglement for good or ill, these stories investigate what can go wrong when our human need to tinker with the building blocks of reality comes up against our need to make narrative sense of our lived experience.

Best Quantum Books (Fiction)

• Anathem – Neal Stephenson

  A philosophical masterpiece exploring parallel worlds and quantum cosmology.

• Dark Matter — Blake Crouch
  A physicist is pulled into an alternate version of his life and forced to confront the cost of the path not taken, then infinite paths, as he fights to return to his own reality.

• The Gone World — Tom Sweterlitsch
  A federal agent investigates a murder tied to branching future timelines and an approaching cosmic apocalypse. Quantum Leap meets Annihilation.

• The Man in the High Castle — Philip K. Dick
  An alternate-history world hints at deeper parallel realities beneath the surface.

• Recursion — Blake Crouch
  A technology that allows people to relive memories begins rewriting reality itself, collapsing time into overlapping loops. Propulsive and cinematic, a literal race against time with catastrophic consequences.

• Ubik — Philip K. Dick
  From the O.G. master of dark, mind-bending science fiction. Reality starts to break down after a mission goes wrong, leaving characters unsure what’s real.

Best Quantum Graphic Novels and Comics

• X-Men (especially 90s–2000s) – Days of Future Past, Age of Apocalypse, etc. I grew up reading Marvel comics long before the movies, so my brain was primed for the multiverse through my favorite “children of the atom.”

• Spider-Man (Spider-Verse arcs) – Multiverse chaos with a dose of charm and wit.

• Black Science – One of the most intense, unique, brilliant comic series I’ve ever read. Dark, violent multiverse hopping with a flawed genius father trying to reunite his family and save the universe that his invention put at risk. I’m holding out hope for a wildly ambitious TV adaptation (Noah Hawley would be perfect).

Best Quantum Movies

• Coherence – A dinner party turns surreal when a passing comet causes reality to split into overlapping versions. Low-budget, incredibly clever storytelling.

• Donnie Darko – Not driven by technology, but undeniably quantum-adjacent, this story explores tangent universes through teen angst, existential dread, sacrifice, and inevitability.

• Everything Everywhere All at Once – Chaos, identity, family, and love—meaning of life type stuff set against the infinite recursion of multiple worlds.

• Primer – Ultra-low-budget, brutally realistic film about engineers who accidentally build a time-affecting box through a quantum glitch.

• Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse – Arguably the most joyful multiverse story.

Best Quantum TV Shows

• Dark – A German masterpiece weaving time loops, connected families, and multiple worlds—one of the smartest sci fi series ever made.

• Counterpart – Parallel worlds spy drama starring JK Simmons.

• Dark Matter – Based on the exceptional novel—quantum technology pits a family man against his evil tech bro alter ego, across infinite possible worlds.

• Devs – Dark, philosophical thriller about a secretive quantum computing project that explores the nature of free will, determinism, and technological immortality.

• Fringe – Investigates strange phenomena tied to alternate timelines, parallel universes, and experimental quantum technology.

• The OA – Multiverse as spiritual/experiential “find your tribe” quest. Starts out darker than most, ends hopeful and life-affirming (but on fucking cliff-hanger, arghh!). Also, that crazy circle dance thing! If you know, you know…

• Quantum Leap

  A scientist “leaps” into different people’s lives via a quantum experiment in a dark and distant future, to “put right what once went wrong.” Not textbook quantum science, but a classic that deserves a place on any list of mind-bending sci fi.

• Rick and Morty – Animated comedy meets quantum chaos. Bizarre, bold, and beloved—one of the smartest, weirdest multiverse explorations on TV.

• Travelers – Time travel, consciousness hopping, looping consequences, trying to avert the apocalypse Terminator-style, and with so much heart. Characters whose pain you felt. The series finale was devastating.

• 12 Monkeys – Not all time travel is quantum, but I’ll throw this one in for the sheer batshit levels of entanglement that layered season upon season until it felt unsustainable. It didn’t jump the shark, it blew a hole right through the shark and powered through another two seasons before its ultimate finale.

Quantum Nonfiction

Last but not least, I’ve been doing a lot of studying since I started my new contract last year. It’s no easy feat, bringing my art student, sci fi nerd ass up to speed on just enough cutting edge physics to make myself useful to the Marketing team.

Learning the lingo, separating the hype from the science, and getting myself steeped in the world of quantum so I can help translate the fantastical wonders happening behind the scenes in the lab into the wider world.

Here are some of the sources that helped me wrap my mind around one of the most esoteric and inscrutable branches of modern science.

• Quantum Supremacy — Michio Kaku
  A big-picture, future-focused, less technical primer about how quantum computing could reshape the world in the next decade.

• Michio Kaku: Quantum computing is the next revolution

  The bite-sized YouTube version of Quantum Supremacy.

• Quantum Computers Explained: How Quantum Computing Works
  Animated Deadpool and Wolverine explain quantum computing. Totally up my alley, and also endorsed by one of my colleagues who knows her shit.

[All images by ChatGPT]

I read a lot of books. An entire wall in my living room consists of a massive bookcase stacked from floor to ceiling with hundreds of books, almost exclusively non-fiction. I spend my daily workout and my twice weekly hour-and-a-half commute to the office with my headphones on, listening to audiobooks.

I use the Libby app from my local library to download audiobooks, as well as Spotify Premium (although their monthly limit of 15 hours of listening time enrages me). The Libby app recently began keeping a timeline so you can go back and see how many books you’ve checked out every year, and my annual tally since 2018 hovers between 100 and 150.

Which is not to say I actually finish all those books, which would be almost impossible… I mean, there are 52 weeks in a year, so that would mean I’m averaging 2-3 books a week… Okay, that’s actually very possible. LOL But I also listen to a lot of podcasts and binge a lot of TV, so it’s safe to assume I’m abandoning quite a few of those books mid-listen.

Nonfictionado

For years, I was a strict non-fiction snob. It’s not that I didn’t respect fiction, but for me it’s the same as listening to music, which I also have trouble doing unless I’m at a show watching a band I like, or at a club dancing. For me to enjoy it, it has to match my mood perfectly or it’s just frustrating noise, not entertainment.

With the best non-fiction, you’re carried along by a single point of view, which unfolds and educates you about a compelling niche reality, revealing and exploring a topic in depth and leaving you smarter and more well-rounded, like a trip to a foreign country.

Some of my favorite audiobooks of all time are explorations of subject matter I never would have considered interesting before I read them. Five perfect examples are:

1. Fire Weather by John Valliant — I wrote about this amazing book last year. It chronicles the 2016 Fort McMurray wildfire, and delves into the geology of the Alberta oil sands and the history of our relationship with fire, before laying out all the reasons they're becoming more and more disastrous and unpredictable. The writing is excellent, and it reads more like a propulsive apocalyptic novel than nonfiction.

2. The Whale Warriors by Peter Heller — A gripping account of the author’s ride-along with Sea Shepard Conservation Society, the radical conservationist org created by environmentalist icon and great spirit bear incarnate, Paul Watson.

3. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot — Long before it was turned into a movie starring Oprah Winfrey, this book is one of the best examples of novelistic nonfiction, revealing insane facts that seem impossible but are 100% scientific truth, layering mystery upon revelation, character conflicts and resolutions, leaving you intellectually enriched without letting your attention lapse for a moment.

4. The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean by Susan Casey — An investigation of massive rogue waves, which were once elusive to the point of being doubted by the scientific community. Casey’s research combined with accounts of surfers and sailors who encountered them reads like an adrenaline-fuelled adventure novel.

5. Almost any book by Annie Jacobsen. I wrote about Nuclear War: A Scenario last year, but if you’re not in the mood to be scared shitless about the more-present-than-ever threat of global nuclear annihilation, I would recommend you start with Area 51: An Uncensored History of America's Top Secret Military Base.

Have We Strip-Mined Reality?

Somewhere along the way over the last few years, nonfiction started to feel less like a goldmine of historical and scientific revelations and more like an algorithmic formula. I blame Malcolm Gladwell and the Freakonomics guys. Just kidding… but not really.

They were at the forefront of the nonfiction renaissance of the mid-2000s, with blockbusters like Blink and The Tipping Point gaining a huge audience and making social science a wildly popular genre, the hot new beach read for anyone who wanted to feel smart while being entertained.

The genre is still thriving 20 years later, but the new offerings are less about revealing cool hidden connections that unlock the mysteries of life, our bodies and brains, the hidden levers of society and history, or whatever, and more about optimizing your life.

Legions of copycat social science writers flooded the market, all but ruining reality-based writing, commodifying and flattening the genre that once felt like a life hack, into, well, just hackery. (Also, “life hacks,” ugh.)

It’s the fitness bro-ification of popular nonfiction.

Back to the Fiction

So lately I’ve found myself reading fiction again, but it’s been a bumpy ride. I have way less patience for badly written fiction than nonfiction, and a vibe mismatch is an instant deal-breaker.

All through high school and college, I read a ton of science fiction. Authors like Philip K. Dick and Robert Heinlein were among my favorites, and I was constantly searching the library for new material, and bringing home stacks of weathered paperbacks from used bookstores.

In the days before online bookstores and libraries, downloadable audiobooks and easy access to thousands of reviews to help shape your reading list, finding good books was a total crapshoot.

But used books were so cheap, it didn’t matter if only one in five were a hit. I could take the misses back and trade them in for credit on my next visit. Finding a new author I clicked with wasn’t just the ultimate dopamine hit, it unlocked a new side quest: find everything they’ve ever written and read them all!

Thank god for the internet and AI

With Libby, Amazon, Goodreads and now, AI, it’s never been easier to find books, movies and TV shows perfectly matched to your exact taste profile. Some of my most interesting and helpful conversations with ChatGPT have been those where I gave it examples of books or shows I loved, and asked for recommendations.

Here are some of my favorite recent fiction reads:

• Dark Matter, Recursion, Run, and Upgrade by Blake Crouch

• Wool, Shift, and Dust by Hugh Howey (and Silo, the excellent TV adaptation)

• Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang

What’s on your nightstand, beach bag, or headphones these days? Tell me in the comments!

Collage by ChatGPT