So pervasive is the sense of foreboding, I am reminded of the verse I wrote when the sky fell: For the Life of Me Kind people blunt the anxiety over ongoing attempts to topple our democracy. Pun-master Doc inspired a way to connect in Yo, Grammy joke exchanges with my grandchildren. Views of the planet, flowers, architecture always eased the isolating effects of the lockdown. Most days on Twitter, I seek posted images of the world's colorful birds. Several are self-described "resisters" to the debacle of 2016 to 2020, not yet at ease as rightwing extremists muscle the Republican Party to back a vanquished president. Since the summer of 2020 when I activated a Twitter account to campaign for the Biden-Harris ticket, I’ve come to appreciate the decent humans who abound across social media and have something enlightening to say. At Blog #100, it’s time to turn a corner, move to the next aisle, content with exchanges as they happened and with what’s to come. The encounter reflects how I've felt since March 2015 whenever readers let me know the words I've written touched them. Marvelous as it felt, I turned down an aisle, and we did not meet again. As our shopping carts advanced from Dairy to Produce, this rolling bundle of joy squealed each time our eyes met. I wonder about the developmental effects on infants of a year without smiles and figure scientists have launched their studies. He took my interest in stride, making me suspect I was not the only vaccinated stranger going Ga-Ga over his precious child. I told her dad, a tall man in dread locks and still masked, (presumably not yet vaccinated against COVID-19) of my delight. I smiled at a baby girl in Trader Joe’s market on May 20, 2021: my first mask less, face-to-face contact with an unidentified fellow human since March 2020.Īt about a year old and sitting tall in the cart, she was game on, giggling and squealing at my attention. In the end, we may empathize enough to want more than their fate, even rally around the planet. We recognize them in their coping and escape. The characters in Future Schmaltz are more like us than we might prefer. People in power embark on a mission to create a breed of humans that can live on the planet.
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In Book I of Future Schmaltz, the Second Timely Reformation is in full swing and Earth besieged by predictable disasters. For distracted us, everyday concerns prove all-consuming compared to the unraveling of all Earth life. If only we could stop the careening toward an unthinkable outcome. As the title suggests, this is a sentimental telling of the catastrophes heading for the planet and its 7.7 billion inhabitants. Readers can uncover the Future Schmaltz big picture in four eBooks. Greetings! Confirming Reggie Morrisey writes fiction with the Amazon eBook publication of Future Schmaltz, A Quartet with Seasons’ Greetings From Tomorrow. The technology exits right now to rescue the planet and its inhabitants from Morrisey’s future. How much longer will I be able to breathe deeply of clean air during walks at my favorite park? Marvel at flora and fauna, rejoice in the sprouting of a honeydew melon seed? Food is abundant. Future Schmaltz is a call to action for individuals and corporations against climate change, a plea for environmental and social justice. While the four books are social satire brimming with dry, often unexpected humor and irony, love and lust, courage and heroism, they are also poignantly sad. To save the human species, a far-right society under the Second Timely Reformation creates a breed of super humans via artificial means. Earth’s atmosphere is toxic the planet is habitable only underground, undersea, in orbiting satellites and on the moon. Set in a disturbingly not-too-distant future, FUTURE SCHMALTZ: A QUARTET offers a bleak new world. Wilson 5.0 out of 5 stars Something new for science fiction lovers…Reviewed in the United States on February 26, 2022…but so much more… I was thrilled Merry wrote the first review of Future Schmaltz. She sent gracious emails in response to blogs I wrote into 2021. Full disclosure: Before the pandemic, Merry and I exchanged “Namaste” greetings in yoga classes at our local YMCA.