I finally saw some US news coverage of the war in Ukraine for the first time since the beginning of the war. It was a Fox News show with a host called Brian, I think. Senator Tom Cotton appeared. The coverage was surprisingly good. Nothing annoyed me. Sen. Cotton spoke eloquently about the failure of the Biden administration to provide the weapons that were promised to Ukraine weeks ago.

Speeches, schmeeches. Where are the suicide drones promised two weeks ago? Where is the heavy weaponry?

Then a retired General named Jack Keane spoke well about how Russia is trying to change its narrative after Ukrainians creamed them.

All in all, surprisingly good, sober, fact-based coverage.

A funny, life-affirming story that goes straight to the heart of the war in Ukraine.

Russian troops occupied a small Ukrainian village. An old babushka comes out. “My sons! Thank you for liberating us! Come to my house, I’ll feed you!”

The Russians follow her and the babushka serves them a nice, big meal. And the poor bastards are so in thrall to their own lies that they believe that the babushka whose village they shelled within an inch of its life is going to serve them anything that isn’t filled with rat poison.

Of course, babushka poisoned them. This is a great example of people literally choking on their own propaganda.

My conference talk made such an impression that I was immediately approached by an editor of an important journal in my field, urging me to submit it for publication to them as is. I have already promised this text to another journal but this editor is offering to publish it within two months. As I was pondering my options, another editor approached, asking if I’d let them publish this or any other text. The problem is that everything I write has already been pledged to journals and edited volumes for the next 2 years. But it’s great to be in such demand. It never happened to me before that people would want to publish my conference talks not in proceedings but in actual journals because talks are short and not nearly as finished as articles.

I’m now at the point where the only obstacle to publishing more is the speed with which I write. Another funny point is that out of the 3 co-panelists I had today, I’ve published something on the author two of them discussed.

Also, people now ask me to sign my books for them, which feels weird. Good but weird.

Is North Carolina considered the South? Because everybody is so friendly, it’s driving me nuts. I live in a very grumpy part of Illinois, and this overwhelming chattiness is alien to me.