A quick word regarding stairs and the people at Bloomsbury's Object Lesson series and the start of a new stair-running season in the Bunker Hill Monument

Thursday 3/12/26

I'll be getting to the people in charge of Bloomsbury's Object Lessons series, these being the people to whom I proposed a book on stairs, who sent my email all around the country.

Someone sent me a letter about them recently. I'll be burying these bigots. Exposing them in full, and making that their legacy, as such. I have a lot to get to. A lot to write. But I get to it. And when I bury you, I make sure I bury you right.

I also bury you for all to see who you are, what you're about, how you work, and how filthy it all is. I reveal you in a manner, if you're people like these three people, that there's no defense anyone can mount, including yourself, which is why no one tries. No one comes to the defense of these exposed individuals either, because what these people do is the very embodiment of indefensible.

There aren't oversights here on my part, there isn't forgetting. The matter is always one of when, not if. The thing is, the evidence is so overwhelming, this mountain of proof of discrimination, as well as the mountain of proof of how things here really work, and real reasons why someone else was hooked up, that it takes a lot of energy, time, and focus to present all of the evidence.

It has to be done correctly and thoroughly. Like a legal case. A forever legal case. The first, final, and all the middle words that anyone need ever know about that given person. It's not like driving by and quickly tossing something out the window on a lawn. You have to do it right when the people are this corrupt and up to that much no good.

Same goes with Bloomsbury's Rebecca Barden, who has her own mountain of malfeasance, and the Beatles' A Hard Day's Night.

Bloomsbury. Place I did the Sam Cooke book for. That's unbelievable, isn't it?

But hey, I know you need that Object Lesson series book on air conditioning or else that one on cement. Fascinating stuff. Or the one on the saxophone by the virtually unpublished writer who worked at an artist colony and bragged on Facebook about how she knew nothing about the saxophone--a subject she'd never written on--and yet these people decided to have her write a book about the saxophone because nothing here is about what it's supposed to be about. (Which is made further ironic given the expert that I am on the saxophone, with those dozens and dozens of pieces over decades pertaining to the instrument in the likes of all the "fancy" magazines these people otherwise care so much about; but I'm sure that would have gone amazingly well if I had proposed that book. And I'll invoice you for that payment for the swampland in Florida, just sit tight).

Or what about the one on screams? Never mind that a scream isn't, you know, an object. But a mediocre crony is a mediocre crony, and to the mediocre cronies goes the stuff, the stuff in this case being a "deal" to write a book for free.

Anything but greatness.

Meanwhile, you have a guy for whom stairs are a way into an understanding of the very essence of humanness, and life itself, who also writes about art, history, architecture, you know, some of the other things that would be a part of a unique masterpiece of a book. Same guy who writes the brilliant pieces about stairs in the highest circulation newspapers in the world.

But sure, cement. Nothing going on here, no discrimination at all. That's totally believable.

Anyway, that's not what we're here for with this entry. This entry is simply about marking the start of a new season of stair-running in the Bunker Hill Monument. Said season began yesterday. I have one year--the length of these seasons--to go from zero circuits of the 294-stair Bunker Hill Monument to 1000 circuits of stairs in the Bunker Hill Monument.

I believe it was in late July that the new season was to have started. I got up into the 280s and then the government shut down for a month and a half. When it reopened on November 15, I began anew, and got up to 247 circuits, but the Monument kept closing for extended periods on account of snow and duty-shirking.

I can probably keep those totals, combine them, and get to 1000 circuits by late July, but let's just do it clean, as Echo and the Bunnymen suggested.

Yesterday I returned to Charlestown, wearing shorts for the first time since back in September--makes a nice difference when you're running stairs--and a sweatshirt and a headband, which is more comfortable than a beanie. You need something to keep some of the sweat out of your eyes.

I did pretty well on Day 1: Ten circuits of stairs in about sixty-four minutes. I was able to do this, of course, because of the other stairs I've been running elsewhere, be it at the Haymarket T stop or at City Hall. I'm one percent of the way done.

This is just a little thing I do, this goal of 1000 and the tracking thereof. What's important is that you're out there. The numbers and everything else will take care of themselves. Consistency is the key. Trying, striving, and, in my case, enduring so that someday I may overcome and prevail, get what I deserve, impact the world as I alone could with what I can do and what I am. If I don't endure, that's all moot anyway. It may be moot regardless. But I should still try.

This just gives me a way to make almost a game of it. Games have goals, right? Goals are good. The feeling of cutting into that total makes me feel better than I would have otherwise, and I need everything I can grip a hold of right now to keep myself here and try to keep going.