Archive for December, 2024


The thing about conspiracies…

The US presidential election came and went. Trump got re-elected. One of the reasons Kamala Harris lost – not a key reason, but one of them – is that she’d had just three months to campaign.

If you’re reading this way after 2024 (you lucky bastards) or if you just didn’t pay that much attention (I don’t blame you), Harris got her party’s nomination during the convention in August, after it became clear to all that Joe Biden started experiencing a noticeable mental decline. How did we get there? Well…

The thing about conspiracies is that they’re hard to pull off. Not impossible, but hard. Conspiracists get a lot of bad press and ridicule, but some of the things they banged their drum about are now part of established history. The Tonkin Bay incident, used as the reason for the United States to send troops to Vietnam, was never real: that was decried as a conspiracy until much later, when the truth came out. Snowden’s revelations about the full extent of the NSA’s domestic spying confirmed – and exceeded – the biggest claims that had been written off as conspiracy theories earlier. Covid-19 was allegedly just a bad case of flu, but the folks who paid attention learned about it as far back as in December 2019. (That r/collapse subreddit can be a bit sensationalist, but they called it, and they were correct.)

Mocking every single last unusual statement and calling them all baseless conspiracy theories is like permanently gluing a set of blinders on your own head. Sure, you won’t get distracted by all that pesky peripheral vision anymore, but you also won’t jump away when something comes at you from the side.

I will preface this by saying I’m not a right-winger. Right-wingers get mocked for all their conspiracy theories, but they were completely, absolutely, 100% correct in 2023-24 when they claimed that Biden was going senile, that the conspicuous lack of press conferences and public appearances meant his handlers and his cabinet members could not control him. Depending on how far in the future (ya lucky bastards) you’re reading this, you might not be able to find all the context or all the social media posts from that timeframe, but take my word for it: there was a lot of mockery, and there were a lot of otherwise respectable left-wingers inventing a million reasons for why nobody has seen the president of the United States of America in person in months. In many, many months.

Something unusual happened in the summer of 2024. Normally, the presidential debates start after both parties have their conventions. Not before. As the incumbent, Biden had his party’s nomination by default, because incumbents typically (though not always) win. That’s despite his 2020 promises that, if elected, he’d serve only one term. (That was in response to the concerns about his age: on the 2024 election day, Biden, just weeks shy of his 82nd birthday, was the oldest US president in history.)

The presidential debate between Biden and Trump was held on June 26, 2024. It did not go well for Biden: he stammered, he lost his train of thought, he sounded and appeared weak and confused. The news and the social media lit up: he was quite different from the way he appeared back in 2020. That was followed by a few media appearances and interviews, during which his cognitive decline became even more apparent. The party insiders panicked. The richest donors grew concerned.

With mere weeks to go until the Democratic Party’s convention in 2024, Biden was convinced to make an announcement: he would not run for a re-election (despite his assurance that he would run, just days earlier) and he endorsed his VP, Kamala Harris, instead. The rest was history: the party united around Harris, gave her the nomination, and then, less than three months later, she lost.

There’s been an awful lot of finger-pointing after the election, but nobody (that I have seen, at least) bothered to look back and ask one single question: was Harris involved in the massive, multi-year cover-up of Biden’s cognitive decline?

There’s not a lot of subtlety there: it’s a binary choice. Did she know, and did she participate in the cover-up? Or is there a plausible argument that she’d spent over a year without any personal content with Biden and his cabinet? If such an argument exists, then I have yet to hear it.

The 25th Amendment to the Constitution (ratified in 1967) accounts for this situation in section 4: if the president is no longer capable of doing their job, then a simple majority vote can transfer the president’s power to the VP. (The majority vote = the VP + most of the cabinet, or the VP + most of whomever the Congress designates instead of the cabinet.) Unfortunately, that provision doesn’t account for human empathy. It did not get invoked during Reagan’s second term, when the signs of his cognitive decline became apparent. It also did not get invoked during the year when Biden’s decline was concealed from the public – or even after his decline became apparent to the entire world.

In my book, as an American and as someone with a degree in political science (hey, I was into the 25th Amendment before it was cool!), if you participated in the cover-up of Biden’s cognitive decline, you should not be allowed anywhere near the halls of power. No taxpayer-funded salary, no elections, no consulting gigs. Shoo. Unfortunately, I don’t run the world, so they’ll all go on to enjoy nice and cushy lives.

If Harris did know about Biden’s decline, and if she was part of that cover-up (which is almost certain), then the unusual decision to hold the first presidential debate before the convention becomes a lot more interesting. There are two explanations. The first is hubris. The second is a deliberate tactical move.

If the extra-early debate was due to hubris, it’s possible – just possible – that Biden’s cabinet had decided that he could be medicated and motivated enough for just one public appearance, that he would crush the debate, and help dispel all doubts. (That did not happen.) The second, more cynical explanation, is that Harris’s allies within the cabinet were too afraid to go with the 25th Amendment option, so they deliberately staged the debate before the convention, which made Biden’s mental state apparent, and resulted in Harris winning the nomination less than two months later.

The irony here, of course, is if they hadn’t done that, if Biden had refused to do public appearances, if he’d gotten the party nomination by default (with Harris still as his VP), then he might have defeated Trump, and Harris would’ve just had to wait a bit until Biden died, or resigned, or got 25th-Amendement’ed out of office.

There was at least one conspiracy going on at the time – the cabinet’s year-long (if not longer) charade that Biden was still fully competent, going so far as to stage tightly scripted and orchestrated cabinet meetings where everyone knew their lines and parroted them off in front of cameras.

The election happened more than seven weeks ago. By now, there are probably quite a few tell-all memoirs from Biden’s cabinet making their way through the publishing pipeline. There’s a really good chance that Bob Woodward will publish his own book of insider info, just like he did about Trump’s mishandling of the pandemic – but months after that could’ve done any good. I expect most of those memoirs (especially Harris’s) to gloss over the topic of Biden’s mental decline. I expect at least one of those books to share ugly firsthand accounts of what Biden’s average day looked like, of how they hid him from the public each day, each week, each month…

Either way, the cash-grabbing, most likely ghost-written tell-all books will be ugly: they tell either too many lies or too much truth.

And, just like with Reagan, just like with Biden, just like with whomever else America will elect far past the mandatory retirement age for air traffic controllers (56) or airline pilots (60-65). Because we learn nothing. And because sometimes, just sometimes, conspiracy theories are true.

I’ve just bought the pricey ticket ($175 USD) for the desert shuttle that would take me from a tiny New Mexico town all the way to the Mexican border on the morning of Monday, April 28th, where I’ll begin my Continental Divide Trail adventure. The shuttle ticket also comes with five water caches every 20 miles because, you know, desert.

So close now… Only 126 days away. Not that I’m counting or anything. I still need to buy a one-way ticket from Quebec to Albuquerque (how is that for a mysterious itinerary? heh), where I’ll crash at an old friend’s place: a bunch of catching up and hanging out, then food-shopping and sending resupply packages to my future selves, and then a 4-hour buddy-buddy roadtrip to Lordsburg, woot! Spend the night there, hop on the shuttle at 6am, and spend a looong 3-hour intro sequence (video game-style) with other CDT adventurers as we all drive to the border. (Ironically, all so we could hike back to the town the shuttle leaves from.)

Most of the gear from my 2022 Pacific Crest Trail adventure is still good, even if the tent has a bit of a broken pole and looks mighty sad when it’s assembled. (Still functional, though!) The biggest expense thus far was the anti-bear Ursack, which allegedly keeps all the snacks away from the many, many bears along the trail. The riskiest part of the resupply will be shoes… I have flat feet, and the Altra Lone Peak shoes are the only ones that work for flat-footed hikers. (I learned that the hard way. Damn Merrell.) Problem is, Altra fell prey to the MBA brain rot, and the latest Lone Peak model has much worse quality: they’re still marketed as hiking shoes, but they seem to fall apart in less than 250 miles, as opposed to the 500+ miles like they used to. A friend of mine had to end his big recent thru-hike prematurely specifically because his new Altra Lone Peaks fell apart, and he couldn’t hike without injuring his foot…

I snagged two pairs of hiking boots by the same brand, so here is hoping they’ll be a bit more durable than the plain old shoes, eh.

All in all – assuming I find a good deal on my plane ticket – my transportation + supplies will cost me less than $1,000 USD. A great deal, considering I’d spent over $3K on all that stuff when I had to buy basically everything for my PCT hike three years ago. (I’d had some gear left over from my Search & Rescue days in Seattle, but that was for short outings, and not at all for long-term hiking. The compass was pretty much the only piece of that gear I ended up using.)

For a wide variety of reasons, I’ll also be technically homeless during my hike: gonna break my apartment lease by the end of April, sell my furniture, yeet the rest of the stuff into a storage unit, and save on five months of rent. (#lifehack, I know.) It’ll add yet another reason not to give up during the inevitable bad days because coming back would mean the long process of apartment-hunting and moving, and nobody enjoys that.

And so… 126 days. Just 18 weeks from now, I’ll be sleeping somewhere else. Somewhere distant. Somewhere goddamn adventurous. Can’t wait.

My big adventure this year was to find a literary agent for my debut time-travel novel. That quest led me down some mighty weird rabbit holes…

After polishing, re-polishing, and starting all over again with my query letter, I got the attention of seven literary agents. One requested a partial (the first 100 pages) but then politely declined. One agent requested the full manuscript (full MS) sort of declined, but said she’d be quite interested in reading a dystopian YA novel based on something I mentioned in my query. Four more requested the full MS during the summer/fall (it’s considered impolite to nudge until at least six months have passed), and earlier this week I received a very enthusiastic reply from a literary agent I’d queried in October. He too asked for the full MS.

Normally, there are two outcomes to a full MS request: either a “thanks but not thanks” or an offer of representation. That’s the holy grail for writers, and it sets off a whole new domino chain… (Still, it typically takes a couple of years for the actual book to get published.) This was my fifth pending full MS request, and – thus far – the most enthusiastic one. I expect to hear back from him within a month…

I had some time away from technology two days ago (horrible, I know!), so I sat down and outlined the final 40% of my dystopian Russian YA novel, and split that outline into 22 small-ish chapters. Knowing that the end is in sight makes the whole thing a lot less scary, and far more manageable. If I go ahead and at least try to write up one chapter per day (no matter how poorly), then huzzah – my first draft will be finished in just 3 weeks. I’ve been knocking out a chapter per day for the past two days (today’s total: 2,667 words!), and I rather like this sort of architect-style self-imposed framework. It doesn’t matter how clunky the outcome is, because the first draft’s job is not to be pretty – it’s merely to exist. To serve as the foundation. And after that, you just keep piling more stuff on top of it, and improving, and brainstorming…

And last but not least, during all my research on the publishing industry, I’ve learned something very peculiar. Turns out, you need the full MS when you’re shopping around your fiction novel, but you do not need that when you have a non-fiction book – such as, say, a memoir/exposé about my 11.5 years at Amazon. (If any agents are reading this, drop me a line!) I honestly had no idea this was how things were done in the non-fiction circles. This entire time, I thought you had to sit down, produce a full-length book, much like with fiction, and then go agent-hunting. I really wish I’d learned this sooner… But oh well. What matters is that, after a great deal of research, I’ve assembled a professional-looking book proposal for my Amazon book. It includes the introduction, the first chapter, my self-promotion plan (podcasts and newspapers and all), the outline, and a whole lot more.

Querying a whole new project while the previous project is still in the querying trenches almost feels like cheating, like taking a brand new sports car out for a test drive. (Vroom vroom!) A whole new slate of agents to email… So far, I’ve identified and contacted the eight agents who have the best sales record in the memoir category and the fastest turnaround time when replying to queries. If my non-fiction query letter sucks, at least I’ll find out right away, eh.

…this is all so wild. I finished writing my sci-fi novel less than a year ago, at the very end of December, and I never would’ve imagined that a) a bunch of actual agents would show interest, and b) one of them would request a spec novel based on my dystopian Russian childhood, and c) I’d start querying an Amazon memoir. Oh, and, of course, that I would become a festival-going filmmaker. (More on that soon.) Huh. All that, in less than a year. Life is so random and beautiful…

And now we wait… And write. And write some more.

A poem inspired by a meme

The moose was loose,
A daring ruse,
A prank that went too far.
“Man up and choose,
Me or the moose!”
She’d shouted from the car.
And look, perhaps it was the booze,
Or the December blues,
But I knew I had naught to lose
By letting the moose loose.