On Wednesday, I mentioned a couple of my recent dreams to my wife. She shook her head; “You’re on another plan with those dreams. I have no idea what’s going on.”
Yeah, I often have that feeling about my dreams, but many of them reassure and inspire me. Not so the dreams of Wednesday and Thursday nights. Of the silly variety, I call them my sitcom dreams. Along with what I call my ‘episodic adventure dreams’, the sitcom dreams happen regularly. There’s always a string of them. Although they amuse me, I rarely post about them.
For example, one dream last night had me attempting to feed two cats. The cats in question were Jade and Quinn. Quinn died two years ago after being with us for twelve years. Jade came to us on Okinawa and was with us for twenty-one years. Both were sweethearts, although Jade was furiously intelligent and willful.
In the dream, I was trying to feed these two in my backyard. I had a food bowl set up for them but they were crowding me, giving me the impression they were hungry. Naturally, I talked to them about it.
“Why are you asking me for food. There’s plenty of food in your bowl. Come on, I’ll” I led through the yard’s lush green grass back to their food bowl. “See?” I pointed. They hurried to their food bowl, sniffing, then turned to me in question. Puzzled, I went to the food bowl. Closer to it, I discovered that what I thought was cat kibble was sandwich wedges. Checking them out with surprise, I discovered they were stale.
“Sorry,” I told the cats. “Let me clean this up and then I’ll give you real food.”
As I was cleaning, putting the stale sandwiches to one side, a man and his family — neighbors — passed by, watching me as they went. I heard the father say to the rest, “He is burying the cats’ feces.” I smiled when I heard him but didn’t clarify what was going on.
That’s where that one ended. See what I mean? There were six or seven of these sort of dreams, about cars, technology, cats, and houses. While I take humor from them, I do acquire some deeper insights about myself from the sitcom dreams. I might be rationalizing what happens but I like it. Still, I’m looking forward to a return my normal dream programming.
I can always use reassuring.
Flooftivist (floofinition) 1. Animal who protests how animals (including itself) are being treated or kept.
In use: “Jade was a flooftivist from an early age, conducting sit-ins and lie-ins against unreasonable rules, such as ‘don’t take food off plates’ and ‘don’t get on the kitchen counter’.”
2. A person who uses or supports strong actions (such as public protests) in support of animal rights or against animal abuse.
In use: “With the surge of information on the web came increasing evidence and awareness that animals have more intelligence and experience more emotions that previously accepted, generating more flooftivists from earlier ages and more areas of the world.”
Todays sunrise in Ashland, OR, was 7:40 AM. Sunset is 5:04 PM. A light gray overcast sky keeps the sunshine at bay. The temperature is 42 degrees F but a high of 56 is projected, along with light rain.
Today’s theme music is “Animal I Have Become” by Three Days Grace, 2006. I chose the music on behalf of the United States and the nation that it’s become. Torn by division, rhetoric and activity turns more violent and urgent. As blacks have been killed by police, people took to the streets to protest the deaths. Many of them were senseless, but officers were exonerated. Several particularly infuriating people, like Breonna Taylor, unarmed, in bed, innocent of everything but being black, killed by police in their zest to ‘serve and protect’. There was also George Floyd, killed by an officer who was busy serving and protecting, by kneeling on his neck until he died while his fellow officers, serving and protecting, looked on. This was apparently for a report of a crime of passing a counterfeit twenty dollar bill. Numbingly, those are just two examples that fueled the anger and protests that swept the nation on behalf of justice in 2020.
Meanwhile, on the right, they got busy protesting those protests, screaming in response, “Blue Lives Matter”. That blue lives really didn’t matter to them became apparent (as if we weren’t sure) as Trump supporters, who are quite right wing, conservative, and white supremacists, battled with the police in support of a coup attempt, beating many police officers, killing one. On the right, they believe that the 2020 election was stolen by ‘the left’. They think that there was all sorts of fraud, uncounted ballots, and thrice counted ballots that helped propel Biden to his landslide (in Trump’s words, as Biden won the EC by the same number as Trump did in 2016). Trump himself, and GOP cohorts, continue feeding this lie. They insist that evidence exists.
This evidence has never been shown.
On the right, they claim the evidence will be shown, and we’ll all change our tune. What’s keeping them from showing this evidence anywhere is the response given by the rest of us.
One note that has everyone (outside of the people who believe that the 2020 election as stolen) shaking their heads, is why would this all-powerful election-stealing apparatus only steal the presidential election? Why would they not steal the Senate and House? Why wouldn’t they also steal the state elections? They use the same ballots. Apparently, though, while the right believes this election-stealing apparatus is all-powerful, it’s not powerful enough to steal those elections. Yeah, SMFH.
With Trump impeached again, Trump unwilling to concede, little change to police policies and practices, and FBI reports that the right have violent plans to change the results of the 2020 election, “Animal I Have Become”, a song about a man struggling with drug addiction, seems right.
On a WordPress note, they appeared to have fixed some issues, in my experience. The site published properly yesterday. Of course, today when I went to post, I couldn’t bring up a page. Took three tries, and the whole ‘post/block’ sidebar had vanished and needed to be called up.
Stay positive, test negative, moderate your drinking, and wear pants (and a mask) when appropriate. Cheers