OVALAU is tidally locked with its primary, with one hemisphere always facing the star.  Its ecosphere hence consists of a narrow band between the too-hot sunny side and the too-cold dark side.  Ovalauers are very resourceful in dealing with this constant climatological balancing act, but a history of dangerous epidemics has left scars on their collective psyche.  Whenever an outbreak (or even a rumor of one) occurs, everyone hurries away from the presumed-infected zone, clogging the congested paths along Ovalau's prime meridian.  Some even opt for a life-threatening journey across the uninhabited wastes, desperately seeking the antipodes of disease.  After an awkward interval waiting for the plague to dissipate, they all eventually go back home to what's left of the rest of their lives.

JERZY has an exceedingly dry climate, but high-tech weather control systems are able to make it rain in very localized areas with high efficiency.  The controller of these systems, who is indeed the Controller of the planet, is able to sell rainfall to the highest bidder.  A cartel of wealthy landowners keeps prices reasonable, however, by clandestine agreements as to who will win the bid and by how much.  Further complicating the efforts to collude are the numerous impoverished gangs willing to intimidate competitors for a very reasonable price.  Because water is so expensive, the members of these gangs rarely if ever bathe.  On Jerzy, dirty deeds are done dirt cheap.

CHENAQRUD was first located by the famed explorer Safi-al-Manit, who was presumed lost when he never returned from his expedition.  His wife Bibi set out in search of him, but also never returned.  When the planet was finally rediscovered decades later by the Atropines, they were shocked to find that both Safi and Bibi had survived, and had passed on the inheritance of Chenaqrud to their son Sadr.  This monarchy continues with the cooperation of the regime on Atropine, who find it convenient to support a legitimate government that supports them in turn.  The core of Chenaqrud is very active both geologically and chemically.  New molecular forms are constantly being created and churned to the surface, where they erupt onto glistening steppes.  Chenaqruders race to gather these flows, often while they are still hot.  When doing so, they usually wear a local vegetable called "qārā" on their feet.  These bulbous roots are quite heat-resistant, and so readily available as to easily serve as disposable footwear.

I had been half intending to just leave the new monitor sitting in its box for a few days, particularly with today's schedule being full (reading and dishes in the morning, a family Ars Magica RPG session in the afternoon, then late supper because of all the chips we eat while roleplaying). But I managed to push through and set up the new monitor, so yay me.

The frame is white, which is a little weird but I'm sure I'll get used to it. The stand that comes with it isn't too adjustable, but I can replace that later if I want to. Max resolution available is 3840x2160, which means I must have gotten the proper HDMI cable this time because I couldn't get near that much with the last monitor and its cable.  This is of course pretty small for my aging eyes so I'm at 175% scale.

I went through something similar with my new monitor at work so I was prepared for Winamp to suddenly look extremely bad. (Yes, I still use Winamp--it's been Good Enough for me for some time now; the only other music player I've really tried was iTunes, which is extremely awful and I only use it to buy music from the store and copy music onto my iPod Touch.) I was aware that Winamp had resurfaced with a new version a few years ago, but when I'd tried to check it out back then I got certificate errors so I just shrugged and went on with my old version.

But the old version does not deal well with screen zoom. I tried out the new version at work, and it seemed to work well enough, so I bit the bullet and installed it at home tonight. (I backed up all my meticulously hand-crafted playlists first, but they seem to have come through unscathed.) The window layout is a little different at the moment, and the font may be a little smaller, but I'm going to give it a try and see how it works out.

I also gave the monitor's built-in speakers a try, but it didn't take long for me to conclude they were pretty bad and switch back to my old ones.

Of course this device is prepared to be a Smart TV as well, but I elected not to give it Wifi access and it seems to have settled successfully into its rule as monitor. Hopefully it won't get ideas.

I should probably try some video games on it. Maybe one of the ones that kept blanking out my screen on the old monitor. Or watch some Star Trek or something.

VÎLCEANU is moderately radioactive, which has caused its population to be affected by numerous mutations.  Those that are not deleterious (and some are even beneficial) have been passed down through the generations by various branches of its people.  The Vîlceanuvians have then sorted themselves into various camps based on their outward appearances.  There is no prejudice behind this practice, as all peoples are considered equal.  Those who bear closest resemblance simply live in the same place and are ruled by the same elected Chief.  Mating is strictly exogamous, taking place only between members of different camps.  When children are born, they are closely examined and are usually judged to belong to one or the other of their parents.  In rare cases a child is deemed to obviously belong in some other camp, and this is not taken as a sign of infidelity or dishonor.  The child must, however, go off to live with an adoptive parent of the appropriate phenotype.  There are elaborate and oft-told Vîlceanuvian myths which explain the origin of their various subtypes, and which are performed theatrically in immense amphitheatres.  Those afflicted by lethal mutations are granted the great honor of participating in the finale of these plays.  Tourism is politely discouraged.

TIBRO is home to a busily competitive society of humans who are proud of their science and engineering.  The nearly indestructible architecture of their cities seems inhuman, however.  Low-ceilinged sleeping areas, ramped entrances, and sloping tunnels between buildings give every indication that they were built for another species entirely.  It seems highly probable
that the descendants of the city builders still live on the planet.  Called "Slinkers" by the human Tibrohs, the shy creatures show no evidence of tool use or advanced organization but do well match the probable anatomy of the missing architects.  They live a nomadic lifestyle, slowly migrating around the planet to avoid what can only be described as "Ghosts".  Resembling the
"Slinkers" in every respect except for their intangibility, the second mystery of Tibro is even greater than the first.  Brave and/or intoxicated Tibrohs have risked physical contact with the "Ghosts" and suffered no ill effects whatsoever.  The "Slinkers" flee from them as if in fear for their lives, though, and legend states that if a "Slinker" ever touches a "Ghost", it turns into one.  No such transformation has ever been recorded on video.

ATROPINE was the first outer rim system to be colonized, which seems unlikely because it is so cold and marginally habitable.  But being out-of-the-way and inconspicuous is an advantage in certain occupations, and Atropinians have been moderately successful in taking advantage.  They are a high-technology society, and they are known to provide free use of their advanced tools to those who are willing to cut them in on their profits.  One particular region is known for its abandoned settlements, which are used for weapons tests and anything else too dangerous to do within populated areas.  The ruins could tell a story or two, if anything on Atropine was amenable to talking about what happens there.

KATUBA is an oceanic world both ruled and wholy owned by a queen who traces her matrilineal bloodline back to the first human to live there.  Almost all economies are to some degree based on an agreed fiction, but the Katuban economy is more imaginary than most.  The queen literally owns everything on the planet, including the people.  So any object to be used or meal to be eaten is officially lent or gifted by the queen herself.  Obviously she can't be expected to personally announce these grants all the time, so one must simply take what one considers to be fair and hope that the queen agrees.  Within her experienced mind there is presumed to exist a sort of ledger which tracks each person's merit as balanced against the resources consumed by that person.  There is minimal scarcity on Katuba, with abundant food everywhere and no need for shelter or clothing in its warm calm waters.  Only technological facilities are very limited, and these are predominantly used in the creation of esoteric vehicles.  When someone gets an idea for a new one, they wait their turn at the nearest fabrication shop so they can produce a novel design which will delight the queen.  Annual parades and races show off all of them, and promote community spirit on this strange but peaceful planet.

VELEŠIĆI is a planet rich with life that once also had a large human population, but pollution damaged most of the arable land.  The centuries of emigration that followed have resulted in more people of Velešići heritage living off-world than on Velešići itself.  A few ancient families remain, within well-defended enclaves.  For although the ecology of the planet was disrupted, many creatures survived and adapted to the polluted land.  Of particular interest are the vukpas, which are very dangerous carnivorous pack animals.  In addition to their teeth and claws, vukpas bear one more unusual weapon:  a virus.  Anyone within shouting distance of a pack of vukpas is at risk of infection, and the primary symptom of uncontrollable laughter serves to both attract vukpas and incapacitate their prey.  Hunting parties on Velešići must be extremely cautious, because he who laughs does not last.

I voted by mail at least a week ago. I like voting by mail. I used to vote by mail in order to volunteer for 866-Our-Vote, but I have not done that since 2016. Many reasons, not relevant here.

Today, I am off the internet, except for the part where all my work is done remotely. Tonight I'm hanging at my favorite bar which is running karaoke tonight, so no teevees. I suppose I'll see some returns without trying, but I'll try anyway.

I always vote. I have often canvassed. I've volunteered. But I have never enjoyed the U.S. tradition of sport in elections, and, for more than 20 years, that tradition has made me sadder, angrier, and increasingly disengaged each election. I do my research; I make my choices; I cast my ballot but I can't care. And I simply will not watch. I will not engage with the game.

It's the tribalism. It's the reactionary "they're all the same".  It's the bluster and shouting, dressing up disengagement with critical thinking as passion. It's the denigration of expertise, service and the refusal to accept that complex problems, large systems—as well as the balancing of differing interests—do not have simple or universally appealing solutions.

So I try to find things which tell me which choices acknowledge that none of this should be a game, none of it should be us vs. them. It's not bon mots, soundbites, zingers or points. It's people's lives and health and well-being. I make my choices; I cast my ballot and I disengage.

I don't know if that's right but it's sustainable in all this despair, rage, helplessness and terror.