It's the End of the World, and I Feel Terrible

From Truthdig

I've written many hundreds of columns. The one below has caused me the most uncertainty about going public with it.

I'm accustomed to writing about facts, quotes, documented history, while offering assessments. But this piece extrapolates from the current zeitgeist, going into realms of events that must be speculative and -- until too late -- unprovable.

Diary

So lucky to be here. Tiny island of dreams.

The serenity is unbelievable, except I want to believe it. Bluest waves with silver froth. Sun through the palms is damn near orgasmic. And solitude! If I can't finish the book here, it'll be my own fault.

Sort of knew I shouldn't bring the shortwave. That'll teach me to donate to NPR. Just can't resist a "thank you gift." Will crank it tomorrow.***

Wish I hadn't turned on the radio. BBC World Service all there is. Downbeat.

Swim, then write. Plenty of sunblock. As for writer's block, perish the thought.

Latest newscast unnerving. Need to concentrate. I blow this deadline, I'm seriously screwed.

OK, no distractions, beautiful isle all to myself. A thousand words a day and I'll be in clover.

Radio getting scary. What's coming out of Washington and Moscow, not to be believed.

Stop worrying and get to work!

Worse. Can't listen any more. Can't not.

Wish I could call home.

BBC now mostly static. What I could make out this morning left me shaky. "Standoff" ... "ultimatum" ... "hair trigger" ... "nuclear alert" ... "drills." Threats escalating.

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