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Watching the Who Bombed Boston arguments on Facebook, I can’t help but wish that all of those pointing fingers would instead realize that finger-pointing, coupled with enough insane, enemy-finding energy, can eventually lead to just this kind of ghastly result.

All of you arguing, please put those stiffened fingers down for just a moment. The people you’re arguing with, however much you disagree with them, are NOT the bombers. They’re folks like you who are just as horrified and disgusted as you are. That’s the most important part — solidarity against violence and extremism — not hoping/praying that a crime like this piles up evidence against the “other side”. The other side is not right or left, the REAL other side is cruel, crippled people who think gunpowder or C4 or gelignite or even just old-fashioned beatings are appropriate ways to communicate political differences.

If this proves to be a “Muslim” crazy, I’m not going to start hating Muslims. But if this is a “Patriot” crazy, I’m not going to start hating NRA members or whatever either. That’s how societies fall apart, and then the crazies win. I won’t be part of it. I hope the rest of you won’t either.

Chris S. I’ve just been cast as Caliban in some prequel or other to your story. Any tips?

Tad Oh, you mean that “Tempest” thing? Written by some Brit guy named Shakestaff? Pretty good little play. I hope it catches on.

What I realized was that Caliban was one of the first representations of a colonized people in English literature — the first thing he says is, “This was my island once”. Also, what people don’t always remember is that he’s in love with Miranda too, and it’s not just lust, I suspect. He’s a monster because he’s forced to be, but he’s got a human heart, like all us monsters.

Have a wonderful time. It’s a part I always wanted to play. Make us proud!

Oh, and just by the way, I’m really enjoying the new Bowie album. Good work, young fella!

David Bowie – “The Next Day” : Tribute for release of

Highlight of my day so far — I had duck soup for breakfast. And it was serious good. That poor little quacker did not die in vain.

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The needle has finally hit the red on Sunday night. Time to turn the engine off for a few hours. Ciao, bambini.

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Man, this joint (SupaNova) is just rotten with people whose work I really like. Two fabulous actresses I haven’t mentioned before, Natalia Tena and Alex Kingston, and a bunch of cool actors I also like, Tony Todd (Candyman) James Duval (Doom Generation, Independence Day) and many more. The Hoff is here, too — he’s quite tall. I could also have gone and bothered Eliza Dushku at the party tonight, but it was too loud to have a proper conversation so I would have just been another gesticulating stranger.

Everybody sing: “I’m just a poor gesticulating stranger, a-travelin’ through this world of woe…”

Very fun. Still badly miss Deb, kids, and beasts, though.

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Oh, forgot to mention more highlights of my brief time here. Got to hang out with Joe Jusko and his excellent wife Linda Sebring Jusko, and also to meet and chat with Dave Gibbons, one of my very favorite comic book artists. Excellent folks, all.

As the resident of a perfect hive of scum and villainy myself (although the neighbors aren’t always crazy about this) I approve this message.

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A sad day, because I woke up to news this morning that our dear old cat Pandora had died. We’ve had her since around the time our oldest child was born, so he had a good, long life, but it’s particularly painful when I’m away.

In better, although less important news, I got a chapter written, which has always been difficult to do in the past while on the road, and SLEEPING LATE is chugging toward completion. It looks like it’ll be about the length of the first two, which is too bad for those who were preparing the four-book-trilogy jokes.

Now I’m going to veg for a bit until it’s time to get ready for opening ceremonies. Farewell, much- and long-loved Pandora. You were a sweet cat and a lovely member of the family.

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I’ve had nearly as much legal fun as a man can have with fried egg on his dinner and jetlag on his brain, so now I’m going to watch television until I flatline. Be well, y’all.

Having fun first night in Melbourne, despite missing my wife, kids, and pets (yes, and even my sister-in-law, so don’t give me that look, Tracie) like a severed limb. Discussed politics with Rose McGowan, acting with James Duval, and traveling the world with Hugh Howey and the originally-German guy who works the front door of the hotel, all in the course of an hour, with a g & t in my hand. That’s good stuff. I could have gone to the bar that used to be a mental asylum, and normally you couldn’t keep me out with all the things they used there to keep people IN, but I thought I might take it easy, since I’ve got two weeks of this. I’m already regretting my good sense.

I am on the ground, hotel-ensconced, and radically Melbournated. I have traveled here with a host of the great and the good and the interesting. Highlights to follow, but my SF friends will be particularly interested to hear I was traveling with Jeanie (as in I Dream Of), Lex Luthor, and Darth Maul, and that I’m off now to have lunch with Hugh Howey of the Wool Omnibus. Everything is grand and I’ll go into more details tonight when I have a moment to think.

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Sitting in LAX waiting to fly to Melbourne. Normally it’s impossible to bore me, but I’m too tired to think, which is generally my refuge. Well, to think about anything interesting. I’m sure I could watch television.

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Put this in your pipe and smoke it. No, don’t bother. It’ll blow your mind just fine this way.

Large scale distribution of galaxy clusters. Every concentration of light contains thousands of galaxies, each of which contains hundreds of billions of stars. The universe just stretches on like this for ever and ever and ever. Infinite in every direction.

For my Australian friends (and friendlier foes):

I’ll be at both the Melbourne and the Gold Coast versions of Supanova in the upcoming couple of weeks, next weekend and the one after.

If you’re in the area for either, please come and see me. If you’re a FB friend or other virtual acquaintance, please introduce yourself as such, so I know you’re not one of the drunken, half-crazy hobos looking for a warm place to sleep who are my usual audience at book gigs around the world. Or, you could just not smell like booze and pee and I’ll probably figure it out.

Cheers, mates. See you there.