Floofnine (catfinition) – a cat who thinks it’s a dog; a cat who behaves like a dog.
You ever hear that a celebrity has been hospitalized or just died, and think, “I thought they died years ago.”?
Yeah, sadly, I do, once in a while.
I enjoyed this PBS article regarding the arrows of time. The article points (sorry, couldn’t resist) to conclusions I achieved on my thinking regarding the arrows of time formed when a wave-function collapses, back in March, 2017, when I filled twenty pages in my lab notebook with scribbling, after doing several days of research.
Of course, my writing is predicated on thinking and conclusions physicists developed through decades of thinking. I was just building on the backs of others. This article helps with confirmation that the thinking is sound.
My writing and thinking was part of the development of the Chi-particle. A Chi-particle has imaginary mass and energy, and travels faster-than-light, gaining real mass and energy as it slows. It’s also a necessary device for “Incomplete States,” my current trilogy in progress. Book One (“Kyrios) is nearing completion, while Book Two (“Moment”), featuring space-pirates, is almost finished. That just leaves Book Three!
Lots of fun to think and write about these things.
The playing and lyrics mesmerized a twelve-year old growing up in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, PA. Equal confusion and interest reigned over, “How does he play like that?” and, “What’s he singing?”
He was Jimi Hendrix, and the song was “Voodoo Child,” sometimes spelled “Chile.” That just flavored the interest.
He studied and struggled with the nature of who he was, because that was the nature of who he was. It didn’t comfort him to realize that, nor that there were many others like him.
That was his nature.
Have you ever been cleaning up a really messy vomit, and get it on you, and feel yourself about to lose it, which makes you laugh, because you imagine it’s like a scene in a silly movie?
Yeah, me, too.
There were more than twenty of them, small, black birds with yellow eyes, hopping through piles of fallen brown and yellow leaves in an earnest search for something, like, maybe one had dropped a contact lens. As he walked along the sidewalk, they flew to keep ahead, but unable to sustain their search because of his progress, they finally all took off.
Except one. One was left behind. Or did he stay behind? Did he — or she — remain behind because they’d become distracted? Maybe it was a young bird who was still learning how to be part of the flock. It could also be that it was a rebel, an old codger bird who said, “I’m not flying because of him,” or a young bird who said, “Let’s see what happens if I don’t fly away.”
Or maybe it was a sacrifice that the others provided, to see what happened if they didn’t fly away.
It was a good day to have a beer, or die, so he thought he’d do one and see what happened with the other.
Still streaming from way back in the last century.
I like the light and peppy feel of today’s theme music. It tells a story, and the story-telling invokes a sense of place and life that I identify with whenever I hear it. But the story isn’t completely told. Gaps remain. That’s how I like my story-telling, with gaps that cause you to wonder even after hearing the story.
Here is Paul Simon with “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard,” nineteen seventy-two.