Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Ventfloofloquism (floofinition) An animal’s production of sounds in such a way that locating the true source seems impossible. A creature practicing ventfloofloquism is a ventfloofoquist. Origins: 1775, Flooftin; vent (to speak) + floof (animal) + loquism (location elsewhere).
In Use: “Kelley heard Prism meowing but either the little furball was a ventfloofoquist or he was meowing and then darting off to another place to confuse her. And it was working; she was confused — confused, exasfloofrated, and annoyed.”
Mood: coffeetized
March 26, 2024 is a Tuesday. I mention it because it is upon us. Winter and spring heroics are vivdly displayed in a skybleau vivant of blue, gray, and white pieces. Rain was here yesterday and last night. Might it come again today? All signs point to ask again later. It’s 42 F. Sunshine is shimmering in around the clouds, alleviating the chill. 58. That’s what they say our high will be.
When I looked out at the mixed composition of clouds, The Neurons began “Cloud Nine” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark cloudy). I enjoy the 1968 song by The Temptations. It sets up a tempting tableau.
(Cloud 9) [Paul:] You can be what you wanna be.
(Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You ain’t got no responsibility.
(Cloud 9) [Eddie:] Every man, every man is free.
(Cloud 9) [Dennis:] You’re a million miles from reality
h/t to AZLyrics.com
The interplay by the singers and the upbeat tempo and optimistic lyrics made it a childhood favorite. Don’t mind it in the morning mental music stream at all.
When I was young, I wondered, “Why cloud nine?” What’s going on with clouds one through eight? Are there higher clouds? Like, number ten?
The first question was answered by a teacher. Sort of. He suggested that “Cloud Nine” was from Dante’s Paradiso. As a twelve-year-old, I’d never heard of it. An elderly neighbor later said it was about angels. In a meteorology class in the Air Force, a sergeant talked about the classifications of clouds, telling us that nine is the highest level of clouds.
While musing about it today, I found a neat little article on udiscovermusic.com covering these things. They also noted that it used to be cloud seven used as a euphoric state.
‘Indeed, improbable as it sounds, as far back as 1896, the first edition of the International Cloud Atlas defined ten types of cloud, of which the cumulonimbus, rising to 6.2 miles, was declared the highest that a cloud could be. In 1960, the Dictionary Of American Slang defined “cloud seven” – not nine – as meaning “in a euphoric state.”’
Despite all this, today’s edition of “Cloud Nine” is by Beach Bunny. It’s a 2020 TikTok hit and no at all like he 1968 beats. I like checking out TikTok to see what our young are tuning into and heard the song on there. I don’t recall when. But dialing up the song today on YouTube reminded me of it existence. So I’m playing it just to spite The Neurons. Yes, it’s petty.
I’ve read Beach Bunny’s song described as a ‘giddy love song’. With a quick beat and a breathless, sometimes abrupt delivery, that seems like an apt description for the quick little number.
Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and vote blue if you’re’n the U.S. and a citizen, etc. Coffee has been served. French roast. Here’s Beach Bunny. Cheers
Mood: Monderous
Hi, fellow space voyagers. It’s Monday, March 25, 2024, on spaceship Earth. Rainy out here in Ashlandia this morning, the weather gods are now throwing sunshine our way. It’s 52 F.
I have bust a move in mind this morning. I awoke to dull sunlight pressing forward through the blinds. Tucker was asleep beside me. After checking the time, I told him, “Come on, time to bust a move. Or at least, go pee.”
As I took care of business, I thought of that expression, bust a move. The Neurons immediately activated the song “Busta Move” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark imploding). “Busta Move” was released by Young MC in 1989 and was quickly a hit and a dance floor favorite.
But I was thinking about the origins of the expression, “bust a move”. It seemed like we were using it before the song came out. It just meant, come on, move fast, to me. “Get going.” Then the song came out, and it was about getting up and dancing. Either way, it was about quickly doing something which generally involved a risk. When I thought about it more, it seemed like the Marines I was working with in the mid 1980s were using the expression to mean, come on, let’s go.
Maybe I’m remembering all that wrong but it is declared today’s song. I was telling myself to bust a move in conjunction with plans under contemplation.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue. I’ve had coffee, thanks. Haven’t finished a cup yet, but it’s my third attempt. Enjoy the music. Let’s busta move. Cheers
Confloofdiction (floofinition) An expectation and counter-expectation about what an animal will do, which are simultaneously correct and wrong. Origins: Anglo-Floof and Latin, first noted use in 14th century.
In Use: “Feline confloofdictions such as biting the hand which feeds them and then cuddling with the person they bit is one large reasons cats seem like floofnigmas.”
I hate taking my floofs to the vet. I recognized that today. I’d put off taking Tucker for a long time, probably to his detriment.
Veterinary offices and animal hospitals harbor bad memories. Cats hit by a car and dying in a room, waiting for treatment. Feline fur friends taken in to see what’s going on to learn they have cancer. Nothing to be done. Four friends over seven years, three spread over a four-year period, nine altogether in my lifetime.
I know. Shame on me. I should be stronger. A better human for them. Accept that death, injuries, and pain are part of life.
I do understand. Doesn’t appease my feelings of loss at their demise. It’s not all ’bout me, though. It’s about what my little friends ended up enduring, even before their illness was diagnosed. Vets always validated that they’re suffering.
We took Tucker back today. Check on his thyroid. Those numbers look good now. Other numbers don’t. He has high blood pressure. He’s gained weight, which was good, but his kidney numbers are worrisome.
A prescription was given for the hyperthyroidism. Another for the high blood pressure. Nothing for kidneys – yet. Monitor them for a bit more. See if it’s a side effect of meds or situation. Meanwhile, we continue his pain meds and his thyroid meds. Twice a day, twelve hours apart.
He goes in for surgery on Wednesday. Dealing with refractory stomatitis gingivitis. All his teeth are to be removed. Well, all which remain. Many of his teeth are already gone.
All this came to mind because my wife interpreted some comments made by the vet at Tucker’s last appointment as dismissive of us as pet mates. I didn’t see it myself. I saw it as being weak on my part. A coward, really.
Now, fingers crossed that all goes well for my black and white buddy. He remains upbeat and loving.
I hope I do right by him.
I can’t believe the video I just watched. It shocked me. It scared me.
This video shows Donald J. Trump, former President of the United States, inspecting a military. This military was south of the U.S. border with Mexico. They were Mexican troops: Trump’s private army.
He founded and established it. Members of his Mexican military were enticed to join with promises of land and rights in the United States.
His idea, according to the video: “President Donald J. Trump wants to control the southern border with Texas so that his army can be let in once the 2024 elections are over, whether he wins or not. Governor Abbott of Texas is working with President Trump to control the southern border. That’s the driver pushing Gov. Abbott’s fight to take over control of that border from the Federal Government.
“President Trump has gained the trust and co-operation of the Mexican government. First, he paid key officials to be consultants and commanders. Then he promised Mexico that on Day 1 of his administration, he would stop imports of any consumer goods, including automobiles and trucks, from anywhere. The exception would be those goods made in Mexico.
“With accomodations and support from Mexico and Texas, and assistance from Florida, Trump’s army will spread across the United States. Detention centers will be set up for Democrats, and Trump’s army will lock them up and imprison them. Democratic members of Congress will be executed.”
A chyron stayed on the screen’s bottom. It said in capital, italized yellow block font, “PROJECT MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN.”
The narrator was General Mily. He also showed a meeting between Trump and over a dozen red state governors who swore their allegiance to him and promised him that they would activate their national guard units to support him. Besides Trump inspecting his troops, the video gave data about the size of his army. It was sickening that these forces have been set up to overthrow the rightful and legal government of the United States and install a military dictator.
I was so sickened by it, I couldn’t watch more. Especially when they started interviewing right wing militia groups who were staging to join Trump from Idaho, the Dakotas, Michigan, Kansas, Wisonsin, and Oklahoma.
As an American, I am shocked and appalled that the GOP has gone so far.
***
Yeah, none of that is true, as far as I know. I made it up. Just exercising my free speech. You know, as Rep. Jim Jordan embraced on Sixty Minutes in a segment with Leslie Stahl.
As Mr. Jordan noted, Americans are smart.
Yes, if they’re out of information bubbles and get all the information.
But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Many Americans live in information bubbles where the full truth is rarely heard or seen. Instead, they’re fed a steady diet of misinformation to support their hardening views. The other side is being painted not just as a political opponent, but a threat to Democracy and freedom. A threat which must be put down by violence.
Mr. Jordan is upset because he believes the social media companies are removing more conservative, Republican, and right-wing info after it’s deemed misinformation. So he’s trying to stop them from removing anything. The media companies are backing off as a result.
So I suspect that someone ‘on the left’ is going to begin retaliating on the scale of misinformation that the right wing is putting out. Then they’ll exercise their own free speech and spread misinformation. In the end, it’s just gossip. No harm at all.
Because Americans are smart. They’ll see through pieces like mine for the fictions that they are. Just ask people about the shadow government.
They’ll show you how smart they are.
Mood: soggy
“Raindrops on Roses”.
The calendar keeps clicking around on its infinite rounds. Today is Sunday, March 24, 2024. Easter is next Sunday. Then April commences.
“Only Happy When It Rains”. “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”. “No Rain”.
I awoke zero dark thirtyish to rain drumming. With a chuckle, my nasty Neurons started feeding rain-themed songs into the morning mental music stream (Trademark impending).
“I Can’t Stand the Rain.” “Singing in the Rain”.
I cursed the Neurons and then explained that it was hours before I was getting up. I requested of them, shut down the music so I can sleep.
“Rainy Day Women”. “Fire and Rain”. “Box of Rain”. “Rain on the Scarecrow”.
The Neurons laughed. Sleep in. Just enjoy the music for now.
“Kentucky Rain”. “Rain Fall Down”.
I mean, there was Garbage and Blind Melon. John Mellencamp. Gordon Lightfoot. Neil Sedaka. Buddy Holly. Elvis. BJ Thomas. Guns ‘N Roses. Julie Andrews. Clapton. The Pogues. The Beatles. Madonna. Tom Petty. ELO. The Grateful Dead. Tina Turner. That’s just a few of them. Do you realize how many songs about rain are out there? Geez.
I finally fell back to sleep after the Cowsills began “The Rain, The Park & Other Things (I Love The Flower Girl)” from 1967. It’s a mellow pop song and I think the rain was fading at that point. Tucker, my black and white floof, had crawled into bed beside my head and was purring like a BMW V12, a soothing sound.
In between the rain songs, my mind busied itself with sifting through dream remnants. Then I began writing fiction in my head. Bottom line, it wasn’t a restful night. A nap is planned for later.
Sunshine has broken through but fog and clouds dominate the skyscape. 40 F now, 51 F is supposed to be reached before the day shuts down. I went out a few minutes ago with coffee. Stood on the porch, looking, listening. It smells and feels like spring. Air seems warmer than forty. Then, because I was barefoot, in shorts and a tee, I scurried back inside.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote. I’ll do the same, if possible, when possible. Well, it’s a daily goal. Sometimes I reach it but I keep trying. More coffee, stat. Here we go. Enjoy the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 