Be the Miracle

I spent the last week in the virtual wilderness of Baldur’s Gate 3. I don’t play video roleplaying games regularly; they consume me. When people ask, I say that back in the day I played EverQuest, one of the first online multiplayer worlds, and to escape it I sold my account and used the proceeds to pay for some of my sister’s wedding.

They are still a solace, one of the few things that keeps me from doomscrolling these days. I finished Divinity: Original Sin 2 in two weeks after my mother died last year. This year’s tragedy is less personal and more global. As a demented rapist frantically tries to keep us distracted from his minions hiding the Epstein files, he tries to goad us into violence by sending thugs door to door to threaten and kill citizens, hoping we will riot so he can invoke the Insurrection Act and cancel the next election, while clutching his fake soccer peace prize and threatening to invade allies and enemies alike.

So yeah, I’m playing a knight who saves people and defeats an evil tyrant.

My trip to Edinburgh last month feels like it’s years away already. We wandered the Royal Mile and ate great food, visited many pubs, museums, and bookshops, and of course, a kilt fitter. My Gordon Nicholson kilt should arrive next month; I sometimes wear a Black Watch plaid one off the rack, but I have short legs, and it wasn’t a good fit.

We joined the torchlight procession to the castle, and I can’t tell you how gratifying it was to march toward a castle holding a torch, and dream that I also had a pitchfork. (Also, I can’t imagine fifteen thousand people marching with torches through a park and a city in the States, without several people setting themselves or others on fire and suing because the torches didn’t have a safety label warning that people or objects touching fire may burn.)

We also attended the New Year’s Eve concert for Hogmanay, where we saw comedian Susie McCabe, and musiciansWet Leg, Hamish Hawk, and Lucia and the Best Boys perform before the fireworks went off over the castle, and they handed out free drams of whisky to celebrate.

People were friendly! Strangers spoke with us, asked where we were from, and were sympathetic. They were so very kind to people from a nation whose leadership deserves none.

On New Year’s Day I climbed to Arthur’s Seat, which is a strenuous hike for Americans, but something that Scottish women of a certain age do while made up and looking dressed for high tea. I spoke with an older couple who do it every year. The way up was fine, but I wished for hiking poles on the descent. The view from the top is beautiful and worth the climb. Having recently visited Montreal, I envy city folk who have their own mountain.

On the trip up the mountain I met a friendly European Robin who was delighting some young hikers with its begging. At the top, I found a Eurasian Jackdaw doing the same, chirping at a photographer who didn’t pay the toll and give it snacks.

The museums in Edinburgh are small but top notch. One has an exhibit on Photographing Resistance. The National Gallery also had this wonderful painting of a man named Verdanck who was so cutting with his words, that he was painted with a jawbone as a weapon, like Samson.

In the Things Are Not All Terrible Dept., I urge you to read this piece by Fix the News:

The Telemetry

And as always, Antonia Malchik:

One truth to rule them all

rest a while, but: