Tonight’s Elysium was a courtly gathering like any other. The typical wheeling and dealing was on display along with puffery and pretension, not to mention a ridiculous number of closed door meetings in order for every Kindred to pretend to exclusivity.
Terribly boring. Even if half those meetings were with the Giovanni coming and going out of various meeting rooms while currying favor; a few jumped-up ancillae with pretensions of age; my predecessor, who continues her fumbling attempts to redeem the name of her clan from her Sire’s misdeeds, a glimpse of the Josian, who loves to give us only glimpses; and that Ravnos that likes to stir up trouble.
As if there were only one of those. Less so since that week. But she’s the one that has caused the most trouble in Chicago over the years, and all under the guise of resolving it. Someone ought to take her in hand, but Prince Rasmussen insists that she’s keeping herself under control. As if those people are ever under control.
The next evening, I arose to discover reports from local ornithologists of seagulls and raptors having pitched battles on the beaches of Lake Michigan. After sunset. While one would not typically consider these to be territorial battles over nesting area, I expended considerable effort to convince not only the local universities and colleges, most especially those with land bordering the lake, but five of Chicago’s six most prominent birdwatching societies that, in fact, this unnatural behavior was perfectly natural.
Six. Six birdwatching societies. I have ignored the Illinois Young Birders. Did you realize that the bluestockings have organized a birdwatching society? Their minds would be more challenged with a rigorous academic study of ornithology, rather than the mere gazing upon of birds.
Since the night of the ornithology mishap, I’ve been burdened by requests from the Josian and reports of roaring cattle.
May the spirit of Upton Sinclair preserve us all.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.