Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Dire Floofs (floofintion) – Floof rockers (flockers) from England, formed in 1977 and disbanded in 1985, who combined sounds from multiple influences to create unique music.
In use: “Dire Floof songs “The Sultans of Floof”, “Walk of Night”, and “Kibble for Nothing” highlight the variety among the group’s musical offerings.”
Today’s song is actually the cats’ theme music. As I’m reduced to staying at home (see: novel coronavirus news), the cats have employed a shadowing technique. Wherever I’m at, here they come. That brought to my mind (and I’m sure it’s already in the cats’ minds), Blondie’s song – “One Way Or Another” (1979) – about stalking.
Floofpaper (floofinition) – 1. Essay, blog post, circular, or information site focused on information pertaining to animals.
In use: “Perhaps inspiring greater interest in animals and their treatment and rights, many digital floofpapers have sprung up on the net.”
2. A paper put down for an animal’s use, or taken over by an animal.
In use: “Many people discover that as soon as they open a newspaper on the table or floor, a pet — especially a cat — will turn it into a floofpaper.”
Stumbled across this post I wrote about future uncertainty in 2017. Bannon is gone from the WH. The novel coronavirus pandemic has heightened the uncertainty surrounding many of my other future uncertainties. I’d say that time will tell, but given what’s happened, it’ll take a long time to resolve these future uncertainties.
Steve Bannon faces some future uncertainty. Comments by the POTUS caused the uncertainty.
I feel for Mr. Bannon. His dire situation prompts me to confess: I, too, face an uncertain future.
I’ve been uncertain about whether to go public with my future uncertainty, but my uncertainty has been mounting. I’m so uncertain about my future, I’m not certain what I’ll have for lunch, or whether I’ll have a beer tonight. I’m also uncertain about the source of pain in my head. I’m uncertain about whether the current W.H. occupant will start a nuclear war or another American Civil War.
I know that I’m not alone in my future uncertainties. People are uncertain if they can find something to eat today or a safe place to sleep. They’re uncertain that they can survive another day of pain. Black Americans are often uncertain whether they’ll survive a traffic stop. Police officers are…
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Listening to the news from various places but mostly the U.S., I’m hearing a lot of calls to open up businesses and start up the economy. I thought they needed theme music. I’m recommended the Rolling Stones with “Start Me Up” (1981).
As a point of order, I’m not in favor of most places in the U.S. starting up. Insufficient testing is in place, tracing has huge gaps, and not enough is known about COVID-19 at this point. It seems like many places are taking a shrugged shoulders, fingers crossed, half-assed approach. While plans don’t need to be perfect, half-assed rarely succeeds. History will be our judge.
Check out the moves from Jagger.
Mötley Floof (floofinition) – American heavy floof band originating in Floof Angeles.
In use: “With songs like “Doctor Feelfloof” and “Barfin’ in the Boys Room”, Mötley Floof has sold over 100 million albums worldwide.”
Medifloof (floofinition) – 1. Animal who cares for sick animals.
In use: “The big Saint Bernard was a natural medifloof, staying beside sick and injured cats, birds, and dogs, comforting, cleaning, and protecting them until they were recovered.”
2. Internet slang for veterinarian or animal medical assistants or techs.
In use: “PJ (Pearl Jam, sometimes just Pearl or Jam) was acting listless and not eating, which was worrisome for an animal who are eight to ten times a day, forcing Craig to take PJ to the medifloof.”
I sit down to write each day with little idea of what’s going to happen. This terrifies me.
Then I read a sentence or two of what I’ve written the day before, sometimes a little more, and the story takes off. In the space of ninety minutes to two hours, I’ll add two to three thousand more words, then stop and edit a little. Few changes are required; the story is coming to me so fully complete, I’m just the typist.
I know where and how the story started and where it’s supposed to be going. I lack all clues about how to get it there. I just followed the muses. They’ve presented this character that I don’t understand. He’s erratic. I know the reasons he’s erratic, as more of his backstory comes to me after I’ve written about him. After I write, I walk away and think, why did he do that? What’s wrong with him? He’s so inconsistent, I worry about it; I want to fix that, and make him consistent. But I suspect that if I attempt to fix him, he’ll just stop and the muses will walk away.
So…I let it ride, accepting my role as typist. The story sometimes entertains me, but more often baffles me. I’m writing mostly to see what happens next.
It’s a weird, odd role, being the typist. I know some writers insist that what I’m describing is complete bullshit, muses and characters don’t just take over.
Yeah, but here I am, with my coffee, about to do it again. It really is writing like crazy. It’s gotten me to seventy-seven pages so far. Guess I’ll just hang on and try to enjoy the ride.
Onward.
Michael Seidel, writer 