As many of you know (especially my relatives), I can be quite verbose when riled.  Extremely so.  Tonight, however, all wit, wisdom and vocabulary has fled my brain and been replaced by a burning anger and remorse that is leaving very little room for coherant thought. I’m going to try and start at the very beginning, and be very concise, since this is not my story to tell.

As many of you know, for many reasons, Joss Whedon is one of my favorite writers in the universe. I don’t always love his work, but I always admire it for his capacity to evoke emotion and thought. I love that he can make me laugh at my lowest, and (even more) for occasionally forcing me to see things that I never would have thought twice about – rather like storming into my house and opening up the blinds to a window I’ve never looked out of before. All this, and the man can make me laugh…so I read or watch everything that I can get my hands on.

Joss got very (understandbly) upset yesterday, so he posted on Whedonesque. I read it, right after midnight this morning. I would not suggest reading this post, unless you have a whole day to ruminate on it.  As it is, I don’t know how I’ll sleep. Don’t expect his lighthearted style either, or his extensive use of metaphor; there has been an injustice, plain and simple, and he couldn’t remain silent about it. Here it is.

Now this is a bit heavy, and stressful, so I will also link to Joss’ “place of peace” as he so eloquently called it.

I’m going to try and get some sleep.  Good night.