The Necrotic Toddler of the United State is both loathsome and fragile and he’s ready to cheat in the mid-terms.

First the loathsome: “President Donald Trump has shared a video depicting Barack and Michelle Obama as apes in a late-night Truth Social posting spree.” This is an old racist trope, one that’s been used at them before. The Toddler isn’t even hiding his racism — and the Republican Party will be fine with it. As John Scalzi said some years back, not all Toddler supporters are white supremacists but they’re all comfortable with supporting it. His press secretary Karoline Leavitt, for instance, dismisses criticism of the video as fake outrage. No, trust me, Ms. Leavitt, my outrage is real. It’s also outrageous the administration blocked an investigation into Renee Good’s murder.

I’m also outraged the administration’s National Park Service “has removed visitor brochures from the Medgar & Myrlie Evers Home National Monument. Among the anticipated changes? No longer calling his murderer a “racist.””

Now the fragility of his ego. In return for releasing Congressionally approved funding for a tunnel project, the Toddler wants Penn Station and Dulles Airport renamed for him. I’m glad Sen. Charles Schumer responded with a flat No Way. Toddler toady Lee Zeldin has confirmed the Toddler withholds fire aid because Gavin Newsom chooses to “lob insults at the president all day, every day, and in between insults.”

And then there’s this: “The U.S. ambassador to Poland announced on Thursday that the United States will have “no further dealings, contacts, or communications” with Włodzimierz Czarzasty, the speaker of the lower house of the Polish parliament, over what Rose called “outrageous and unprovoked insults directed against President Trump.”” The insult in question is assumed to be Czarzasty saying the Toddler hadn’t done anything to deserve the Nobel.

(And no, none of this is a distraction from the Epstein files. He really is this pathetically needy).

The Toddler has been screaming for weeks about how all the polls showing he’s massively unpopular are fake news, his country loves him! Which is another example of his fragility (and probably lots of his toadies lying to him) but leads into the next topic: faced with a high probability of Dems winning bigly thiz fall, he’s not willing to take the blow to his ego or his power. Or admit that any loss is legitimate.

As Oswita Nwanevu says, it’s not like he cares about Congress: he’s had incredible success by ignoring them, he can do a lot more by asserting further executive authority. “Why go through the trouble of cheating your way to a Congressional majority as president if you don’t actually have a legislative agenda? You would have to be deranged and stupid. And… unfortunately…”

Jamelle Bouie is skeptical: “he wants to cancel the midterms. how does he get the VA state board of elections to cancel the midterms? how does he get the Georgia board of elections to do it? how does he convince republican house members to quit their jobs and give up their paychecks?” It’s possible his reach once again exceeds his grasp. Then again, Paul Campos is more pessimistic. And there are disturbing signs the Toddler will try something. Here’s one possibility. Here’s another. It’s also possible Venezuela’s Maduro will confirm the myth he rigged the 2020 election in return for leniency, thereby providing an excuse to stop the non-existent steal this time.

I’m continuing sending my GOTV postcards and calling my Dem Representative, Valerie Foushee, to keep up the fight (my Repub senators are probably a lost cause but I’ll contact them too). And I think there’s truth to the argument we should also keep an eye on local politics. Local governments, many of them, are doing what they can; shoring them up isn’t a silver bullet but it’s a sound investment.

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Three covers for Tuesday

First, the one and only Richard Powers

Second Paul Stahr.

Third Clark Hulings.

All rights to images remain with current holders.

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No, nothing is a distraction from the Epstein files

One of the standard takes on well, almost anything the Necrotic Toddler does is that it’s “a distraction from the Epstein files.” Or from the murder of Good and Pretti in Minneapolis. Or Good and Pretti are a distraction from whatever other atrocity he’s pulled lately.

Nope. The Felon of the United States doesn’t do distractions. Neither do his people. They want the world, they want it now, and they don’t seem to grasp their might be blowback. As Paul Krugman says about their strategy in Minneapolis, “the obvious answer is that there isn’t any strategy. These people aren’t evil masterminds — evil, yes, but masterminds, no. They’re just thugs too crude and undisciplined to control their own thuggishness. They were caught off guard by the strength of the resistance because the very concept of citizens standing up for their principles is alien to them, and they still can’t believe it’s real.”

As others have said, if you’re trying to figure out why the hell they’re doing X, the usual answer is going to be “They’re stupid.”

However it is very easy with everything going on to forget about the Epstein files, about Epstein’s long, horrible history of raping girls with impunity, and the horrifying number of people who seem to have turned a blind eye. Let’s not forget, and let’s not forgive. In that spirit, a few links:

“This fake Medvedev interview plays into that, suggesting that Russia has leverage because they have the Epstein files.”

“”Once again, survivors are having their names and identifying information exposed, while the men who abused us remain hidden and protected. That is outrageous.”

Still some embarrassing information is coming out. Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick planned to visit Epstein’s island. Musk was apparently a good chum. Musk denies this but “even if you do your absolute damndest to read this guy’s freshly released Epstein emails in a positive light, what you get is the story of a tech tycoon stating unambiguously that he wanted to attend an absolute rager on a sex criminal’s private island.” Perhaps it’s no surprise Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche wants us to know that partying with Jeffrey Epstein is not a crime. Because I’m sure Musk isn’t alone.

France, investigating Musk over Grok’s ability to make child porn, reminds him he’s not on Epstein’s island now.

“A Duke University professor appears in more than 700 of the newest Epstein files released by the Justice Department, one of which asks the convicted sex trafficker to provide the name and email of a “redhead” he wished to see again.”

Neither is attorney Brad Karp who had to step down from his leadership role at the Paul Weiss firm (he’s still employed) due to his gushing emails about fun parties with Epstein.

“Documents published last week by the U.S. Justice Department contain new revelations, including papers suggesting Mandelson shared sensitive government information with Epstein after the 2008 global financial crisis, and records of payments totaling $75,000 in 2003 and 2004 from Epstein to accounts linked to Mandelson or his husband Reinaldo Avila da Silva.” — from a still-unfolding British side to the story.

No wonder the Felon likes Kid Rock, with lyrics like “Young ladies, young ladies, I like ‘em underage/See some say that’s statutory/But I say it’s mandatory.” A reminder that as many people point out, Epstein was extreme but his attitudes weren’t an anomaly.

Oddities in the latest release.

““The essence of the Jeffrey Epstein scandal is one man doing terrible things to girls – we can kind of understand that. But having so many powerful men who were enablers, who all just thought this was a joke – it’s so sad,” she says. “Everyone’s just laughing, it’s so funny how Jeffrey Epstein enjoys young women giving him massages. There are these secrets they all have together – it just makes my stomach turn.”

“Included in the documents released Friday was an exchange from 2015 in which Attia had written a note — redacted by the Justice Department — that bore the subject line, “Got a fresh shipment.” Epstein responded, “me too,” with a photo that was also redacted. Attia responded, “Please tell (me) you found that picture on line … bastard.”

Woody Allen’s wife Soon-Yi Previn corresponded with Epstein years after his perversions were known, complaining that MeToo had gone too far and saying the horrifying thing about Anthony Weiner, in his fifties, hitting on a 15-year-old, is that the girl was a “manipulative” predator. Um, no. I can’t help thinking of her sister Dylan Farrow, who accused Allen of assaulting her as a child and how much of a subtext to Previn’s comments that might be.

Prominent scientists were friends of Jeffrey too. And complained to him about how unfair it was they’d been accused of being lechers and sexual harassers. Creepy game apparently does recognize creepy game.

No, Zohram Mamdani is not Epstein’s son.

Dems say they’ll subpoena the Toddler over the Epstein files.

I’ll conclude with a quote from my friend Karen: “The most depressing thing about the Epstein files is how very very boring billionaires are. All the money that ever existed and they use it to perv on 13-year-olds.” Well said.

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A resistance movement and a drunken inventor: books I’ve read recently.

Reading THE CIA BOOK CLUB: The Secret Mission to Win the Cold War With Forbidden Literature by Charlie English felt profoundly unsettling. Despite the title, this is primarily a history of Poland’s solidarity movement and Communist Poland, particularly when they try to break the resistance foreshadows what we’re seeing in the US today: ruthless repression, detention, constant monitoring and spying, intolerance for anyone questioning the state, a desire to control everything the people read, learn or watch. Against this we have a resistance that refuses to stop and struggles to keep pushing for freedom and reporting on what the regime is really doing.

(There’s a school of thought that objects it’s not enough to compare Republicans to tyrants, you have to pick the right tyrants — Jim Crow states a century ago, the banana republics America propped up in Latin America rather than looking at Nazi Germany or the Communist Bloc. I think they now resemble all these things and I’ll use whichever comparison works in a given post).

The title refers to the CIA program spreading banned literature in Poland and other Soviet-dominated states (1984 was very popular) and helping underwrite the Poles’ own underground newspapers and publishing efforts. This program is fascinating, and largely ignored even in the CIA’s own histories; English suggests it’s because the agency prefers seeing itself as James Bond, not Barnes and Noble. Still the emphasis is so much on Poland I suspect that was English’s real interest and he highlighted the CIA purely for an American hook. It’s a good book, regardless.

ROBOTS HAVE NO TAILS collects Henry Kuttner’s stories (in the introduction CL Moore confirms they’re 100 percent her husband’s work rather than one of their many collaborations) of Galloway Gallegher, an inventor who does his best work when he’s too drunk to know that what he’s creating is impossible (if you find heavy drinking and alcoholism inappropriate for humor this is not the book for you). In one story he wakes up from an alcoholic blackout to find he has three clients demanding the miracle solution to their problems he promised; the only thing he’s invented is a machine that disintegrates dirt and sings drinking songs.

In my favorite story “This World Is Mine,” Gallagher discovers he’s built a time machine that’s brought three cuddly, rabbit-like Martians to Earth from the future; having read lots of science fiction they know it’s their destiny to conquer Earth with their terrifying superweapons, would he please build them one? Oh, and the time machine also keeps materializing his murdered corpse on the lawn … Kuttner seems to have as much fun with the future’s byzantine legal system as he does the SF but it’s funny stuff regardless.

All rights to images remain with current holders. Don’t know either cover artist.



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Is man’s favorite sport legal blondes? One movie, one play

Howard Hawks has done some wonderful rom-coms including Bringing up Baby and Ball of Fire. MAN’S FAVORITE SPORT (1964) is not one of them, though it has many of the elements of Bringing Up Baby, with the male lead (Rock Hudson) put through the wringer by the good bad girl Abigail (Paula Prentiss) before finally realizing she’s more than the most obnoxious, most irritating woman he’s ever met.

Roger is a legendary fishing guru working for Abercrombie and Fitch (apparently back then they were a sporting goods store rather than clothing). Abigail’s running PR for an upcoming fishing tournament and convinces Roger’s boss (John McIver) that Roger competing would be a publicity windfall for everyone.

Too bad Roger can’t actually fish: he learned by listening to fishermen talk, then sharing what they say with his customers, eventually compiled it into a book … but he has no skills. Fortunately Abigail knows fishing; she can teach Roger, but can she teach him enough? And will they kill each other before the training is over?

Hawks wanted Cary Grant for the lead role but didn’t get him (though Grant, while still elegant, was 60 — I think that would have been a stretch even for a movie May-September romance). Hudson was a logical choice, having starred in a couple of rom-coms (Pillow Talk, Lover Come Back) but he doesn’t work as Roger. In one of the early scenes — Abigail parks her car in Roger’s sport, he tries to move it, hilarity ensues — I can imagine Grant’s deadpan frustration as he struggles to cope. Hudson can’t pull it off. On the plus side the supporting cast are fun and legendary costume designer Edith Head decks out the women in some great outfits. “Does a man who sells canaries have to know how to fly?”

Now, the play: my brother has twice appeared in the musical LEGALLY BLONDE (yes, based on the Reese Witherspoon film) as the lecherous professor who recruits Elle Woods for his murder-case team simply because he’s hot for her. Wanting something light and fluffy I streamed one of the productions (he sent me a link) last weekend and enjoyed the story of how blonde sorority girl Elle Woods (“Whoever said tangerine is the new pink was seriously disturbed.”) crashes Harvard Law to prove to her ex-boyfriend she’s not some bimbo, then discovers to her surprise that she’s not some bimbo. A fun, light-hearted show, which is what I needed.“The Irish fear nothing and no-one/They keep fighting till everyone’s dead/I’m not sure where this metaphor’s going/But I feel that it needs to be said.”

All rights to image remain with current holder.

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Not much writing done this week, but I anticipated that

Thursday I only worked a half-day because the housekeepers were here. Sitting in the spare bedroom with all the pets to keep them out of the way (and make sure Snowdrop and Wisp don’t run out) does not inspire creative work. For the first time in a few months, they showed up late enough I could have made a full work day out of it; by the time I realized that I’d turned my brain off.

And Tuesday I took one of my days off to devote to TYG and my “death document” — instructions about our finances, ordering dog drugs, when to give dog drugs, plans for our bodies. Because contrary to this Nick Cardy cover, death can come at any time. We’d like to be as much help to each other as we can.

I’ve been slack about updating the stuff I know but it turns out not much has changed since the last time I checked — Trixie has one added med, little things like that. Still it’s good to keep everything current and good to know that it is.

With Friday devoted to stuff like blogging and catching up on email, that left two days. I got another chunk of Savage Adventures rewritten, though not as much as I’d like. Then I had my work for The Local Reporter: a story on the snowfall and how local towns dealt with it (not up yet), one on how Carrboro is scoring its performance and one on what the former Chapel Hill Weekly was reporting when it started publishing in 1923 (“On the whole, Chapel Hill is ultra-conservative in the matter of hats.”).

As I mentioned a while back, they recently lost one of their government reporters so I’m doing more work. Which is good — more money — but it’s frustrating how much work I have to do to find enough stuff to write about (it consumes a surprising amount of time). The reporting and writing is relatively simple. But such is life.

I anticipate being way more productive next week.

One thing that did surprise me about this week — this blog has racked up 1,500 views the past two days. While there are times I can explain a rush in traffic, like my posts about Taylor Swift a couple of years back, I have no idea what triggered it. None of my specific posts have received a huge hit either. I’m not complaining of course and if any of y’all are reading this, thanks for visiting.

All rights to cover image remain with current holder.

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Why yes, we did get snowed in again

As I mentioned a week ago, they predicted heavy snow last weekend. Given how mild the previous weekend was compared to what was predicted, we wondered if it would be true … it was.

The footprints were visible.

It was much nicer than the week before. Prettier than the ice/snow mix, and fluffy snow is easier to walk on. A couple of days of subzero temperature would have made it a lot nastier but the temperatures rose fast enough to counter that. Despite warnings of possible ice/snow mix hitting Wednesday, we’re 90 percent out of the woods.

Plushie, by the way, absolutely loved it. Take a look.

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Patriarchy and misogyny warp everything

As I’ve blogged about before, the religious right’s worldview is deeply entwined with misogyny and male supremacy. And authoritarian movements everywhere are also anti-woman (I’ve made that point before but I can’t find the link). Women have been part of every resistance movement and freedom movement: not just suffrage but civil rights, gay rights, temperance … and that’s true around the world. And in Minneapolis.

Katherine Stewart points out the flip side: “Throughout history and around the world, male supremacy has supplied the backbone of authoritarian movements. Fascist parties always glorify the virtues of manliness (by which they typically mean some form of brutality) and despise the supposed weakness of womanliness (how they interpret empathy, moderation, and compromise). They always appeal to the resentments of the disempowered, and they promise to dominate the objects of resentment, which for a great many people happen to be sexual in nature.”

But it’s not just practical, it’s emotional. Tariffs are good because they’re manly — they’ll put men back in factories instead of sitting behind a desk (said by people sitting behind desks on Fox News). And if they hurt our pocketbooks, well worrying about that is feminine. “But it’s feeding off a recent trend, fed by predatory social media influencers, that conflates masculinity with punishing self-discipline, the kind that rejects all pleasure and comfort as a feminizing — and thereby evil — force.”

The same point has been made (I don’t have the link) about the desire to bring back factory labor: it’s partly the fantasy that if we have lots of men working manly jobs with good incomes (note: I do not believe for a minute we’d get the equivalent of 1950s breadwinner wages if the factories came back) women would happily quit their jobs and become tradwives. They’d give their eyeteeth to push women back into that role; James Taranto of the Wall Street Journal thinks to make it happen we have to give employers the right to discriminate against women.

Or consider the $50,000 signing bonuses for ICE recruits: “Firing and demoralizing feminized jobs as enemies of the state while brazenly bribing men with violent jobs that almost instantly puts them into the middle of middle class is very basic gendered warfare. Fulfilling the manosphere’s promise.” As is their whole recruiting tone: “ICE is a force of men who have felt small and have now been empowered by an administration that tells them they’re manliest of men, hands them guns and tactical gear, gives them precious little training, explicitly tells them they will be held to virtually no legal or moral standards, and sets them loose on a public it has warned is full of not just criminal illegal immigrants, but un-American subhumans, among the worst of whom are AWFULs: Affluent White Female Urban Liberals.”

Or consider Pete Hegseth, hating the Boy Scouts because now they let girls join.

While I rarely agree with Glenn Greenwald about anything, I think his assessment of Matt Walsh is spot on. And it applies to Hegseth and multiple other misogynists.

Then there’s the new catchphrase, “toxic empathy.” As I’ve said before, “compassion is a weakness” is not a phrase the good guys ever use. However empathy for people like Alex Pretti, Rebecca Good and every other victim in Minneapolis gets in the way of fascism and theocracy. Therefore empathy must be destroyed. And because, according to Allie Beth Stuckey and other right-wingers, empathy is girly. “That compassion is weak and cruelty is strong has become an article of MAGA faith.” Here’s an earlier post of mine discussing fears women must be controlled because they’re too nice to be in charge.

Religious writer Rick Pidcock says it should be simple: “When men witness women being harmed, the choice appears straightforward: Do we protect them, or do we justify the violent power being exercised over them? Do we care for them or control them? For many men of the Religious Right, the answer is not clear.” As Jasmine Crockett puts it, “Now my colleagues want to be the protectors of girls & women. I didn’t hear them screaming this when Renee Good was killed in the middle of the street by the same people the vast majority of you just voted to give more money to. It was a lot of crickets, including about the Esptein files”

Even for right-wingers and patriarchalists,, empathy isn’t always bad. We’re supposed to feel “himpathy” for 90 percent of rapists, for how this could ruin their career or their chance at a college scholarship. For how unfair it would be if Brett Kavanaugh had to settle for a lifetime federal judgeship and lost out on SCOTUS because of a rape attempt or two. Etcetera, etcetera (I’ve got posts on this stuff but no time to link to them today). We’re supposed to sympathize with the poor men petrified that Me Too means they’ll be slapped with a sexual harassment suit if they say one thing wrong and not with the women relieved there might be less harassment. Right-wing jackass Riley Gaines thinks we should have empathy for the heroic ICE agents not for Alex Pretti or Renee Good.

I doubt I’ll live to see the end of the struggle but it’s still worth fighting.

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Southern Discomfort: how about a cover-copy reveal?

As my cover artist is getting closer to the final draft, I’m starting to think about promotion.

A lot of the recommended steps aren’t doable. Local bookstores don’t promote books printed through Amazon (I checked) and I’ve had little luck with book review sites in the past. Cover copy, however, is entirely in my control.

My original plan was to do it third person. However I’ve noticed a fair number of fantasy novels go with first-person so I tried it. The results:

Travel back to Georgia in 1973, as Lt. Maria Esposito experiences — Southern Discomfort.
“For the past three years I’ve been a wanted fugitive, constantly on the run, never letting anyone get close. Now torrential floods have trapped me in tiny Pharisee Georgia, where the FBI is investigating a terrorist bombing. My only hope is to keep a low profile until the rain ends.
That makes it a bad scene when the victim’s widow, an unearthly beauty named Olwen McAlister, declares I’m the one person who can bring the killer to justice. The sheriff takes her “visions” about me seriously; if I don’t answer yes to her request for help, I’m in trouble.
I should have said no. Suddenly I’m the target of hostile ravens, a homicidal horse, and a living shadow warning me to leave town or die. Cats everywhere are yowling with rage. I’m seeing things my Grandma Sophia would have called malocchia, evil magic. They can’t be — magic isn’t real — but I have no other explanation.
If I stick around either the shadow kills me or the FBI sends me to prison for life. Trouble is, something bad is coming down the pike; if I don’t stay to fight it, lots of innocent people will die.
I don’t give a damn. I can’t afford to give a damn. That’s what I keep telling myself.
I have a sinking feeling I’m not going to listen.”
Southern Discomfort is a standalone intrusion/urban/Southern fantasy novel. It includes multiple POV characters, several woman protagonists and multiple POC. The spaniel lives. The villain does kill a cat. It will appeal to fans of Alex Bledsoe, Tom Dietz, Luanne Bennett and Charles DeLint’s Jack the Giant Killer.

The pluses: it centers my main character and gets inside her head. I think it’s a good hook (yes, I’m obviously biased).

The negative: nobody can tell the book is about elves in Georgia, though my choice of comps in the last paragraph should tip people off. However I tried writing a version that focused more on the big-picture, the premise, the overall plot … it wasn’t gripping. Writing from Maria’s POV gives it much more emotion and (I think) makes it more engaging.

Before too long, I hope to find out if I’m right.

Cover (t) by Samantha Collins. I don’t know the second artist. All rights to images remain with current holders.

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Undead specfic cliche: magic has no rules

Some years back, the Mighty God King blog made a series of blog posts on his ideas for writing Dr. Strange. They’re excellent and I wish he’d taken them and turned them into something of his own (only a few of them are Marvel Universe-dependent).

One of his early posts argued that a Dr. Strange series could be “House with wizards” in the sense of it being about Strange and his apprentices. I can’t say that one grabs me but that’s not the point of my post. In the comments one of (I gather) the regular commenters sounded off that he wasn’t interested in Dr. Strange because “there really is no way to define what magic’s physical limitations are and as such, its difficult to say what is and what isn’t believable for the character and any conflict he’s placed in … a character who simply ‘wields magic’ by itself, like Doctor Strange, is doomed to inevitable cases of Deus Ex Machina.”

This is nonsense but it’s an enduring nonsense among people who don’t like fantasy. Isaac Asimov asserted once that by definition, magic has no limits — it it does, then it’s just an alternate form of science. Closely affiliated is the view that this makes fantasy inferior to science-fiction — SF is bound by the rules of science, fantasy writer have no rules. It’s sloppy, easy, unlike the thoughtful rigor of science fiction (or in the case of that commenter, science-based superheroes).

First off, while it’s possible to write magic as some sort of super-science “magic with rules” isn’t the alternative. The difference between magic and science is that science works independently of who uses it; magic is selective. As Dr. Strange once put it fighting a villain who’d stolen his amulet, the Eye of Agamotto, the Eye isn’t a gun; you don’t control it simply because you’re holding it. Controlling it requires understanding the magic — and Stephen Strange understands much more than his foe. Likewise Lisa Goldstein pointed out that summoning light with magic requires understanding and wisdom; any idiot can flip a light switch.

So the commenter’s argument that magic can’t be defined or limited is bullshit. In the particular case of Dr. Strange it’s even more bullshit: Dr. Strange in the original Lee/Ditko run never wins by deus ex machina, he wins by sheer determination or by bluffing or outwitting his foe. There’s no clear statement as to his specific powers but it never feels like Ditko (who’s supposed to have been the lead creator of the two) is making it up as he goes along.

It’s true magic can be used as a get-together but so can science. In Spidey’s first battle with the Vulture, Peter Parker simply deduces the Vulture’s flight technology and then builds a gadget that nullifies it. Now it’s true Peter uses his scientific genius but pulling out a power-stealing gadget is just as much a fudge as pulling out some heretofore unknown piece of magic would be.

Magic can be badly used. Stephen Gerber in his Defenders run had some powerful mystical moments but he could also be hand-wavey in terms of Doc’s actual power levels. But it isn’t inherent in writing magic. Some mages have specific rules, some are implied; what matters, as Brandon Sanderson said, is that the writer not pull a deus ex machina. “An author’s ability to solve conflict with magic is DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL to how well the reader understands said magic.” If you establish that Dr. Strange or Dr. Fate or Harry Potter can shrink in size, it’s cool to use that at the climax. If you pull it out of your butt without any set up, that’s bad writing.

I doubt anything I’ve said would convince the commenter. But then, I think they’re completely wrong, whether I convince them or not.

Art by Frank Brunner (top), then Ditko. All rights to images remain with current holders.

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