Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
My wife and I were out shopping for new sheets and pillows last weekend. She came to me with a mug and a grin.
“This is you.” She handed me the mug. “I’m buying it for you.”
She’s right. After running it through the dishwasher with a load, this is now my morning coffee cup.
Thanks, sweetheart.
Mood: Moontalized
And just like that, summer struck back. A friend wrote in an email about meeting up for a beer, “Is it PC to refer to this pleasant time of year as ‘Indian Summer?’ I sure hope so.”
Yep, autumn and autmer and sumumn have all been displaced for summer, if we use the weather as a ruler. It’s September 24, 2024 on the calendar. Here in Ashlandia, that should translate to autumn, or ‘fall’ as many locals call it. But with the low only dipping into the middle sixties last night and an expected high of 95 F, this Tuesday has summer scrawled all over it. Add in a deep blue sky tinged with hazy edges, and it feels like June has fallen on us once again.
There’s all manner of news spreading across the wires today. Good stuff like new 2024 election trends and Trump’s claim that if he loses this time, he’s done. WTF news about a blizzard in South Africa. Gold hit an all-time high, Texas is suing the Biden Administration, and Hurricane John is a cat 3 striking Mexico.
Oh, and Earth is closer to getting that ‘second moon’ we’ve always hoped for, though it’ll be just a temporary addition. Call it a trial run. We’ll need to be careful in how the new moon is introduced and ensure that it gets along with the old Moon. It’s used to being the only moon, so there’s some trepidation that the new and old moon will go after each other.
I was outside in the backyard at 3 AM (yes, it was a cat thing) when I was overtaken by the stunningly clear sky and brilliant, bold moonshine. I stood out there alone for a while, sucking in the fresh air and stargazing. That probably contributed to The Neurons posting a Thin Lizzy song, “Dancing in the Moonlight (It’s Caught Me in Its Spotlight)” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark two-step). The song came out in ’77 but it doesn’t get much radio play in the U.S. these days.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote blue in 2024. I have reached the bottom of my coffee cup, so I am facing a personal sad time. Here’s the music! Cheers
I’m chatting with the barista. He tells me my order will be up soon. I ask him, “Did you ring me up?”
He’s completely confused.
I straighten it out, explaining that I wanted to know if he’d charged me, and walk away, laughing. It used to be — a classic beginning to an explanation about change — that cash registers made a ringing sound when transactions were totaled for payment. How long has it been since I’ve heard a cash register ring? As a result, ‘ring me up’ entered society as a popular expression for paying for purchases.
As an aside, my wife had one of those mechanical, ringing registers in her house. Her father, a grocery store manager, procured it when his store upgraded to an electronic system. The register’s ring reminded him of the little stores where they’d shop in his small town.
He said that he never wanted to forget them.
She’s riding her bike. Looks about fifteen years old. She’s in the bike lane. Headphones cover her ears. Her hands are busy with her cell phone.
Yes, she has no hands on her handlebars.
She passes in a flash, steadily pedaling. I’m both admiring and dubious. It’s a busy street and she’s going along a stretch with many business entrances and several intersections.
I admire her confidence but I’m a little dubious about her decision making. Ah, youth.
Mood: Bowiedacious
A front has driven in, strewning clouds of different complexities over Ashlandia, giving us variables in lights, shadows, temperatures, and expectations. Sumumn still holds but it’s beginning to look like autmer as trees flirt with new colors in their leaves. Only dropped to the high fifties last night, and today’s high temperature will spank 90 degrees F.
This is Monday, September 23, 2024. You understand that 2024’s ninth month is closing out and there are but 94 days until Kwanzaa, 93 days until Christmas, and 93 days until Hanukkah? There’s also only 43 days until the U.S.’s 2024 elections. Things are getting tight.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) inspired today’s musical choice, although coffee contributed. Having indulged in my first hit of black goodness, I saw Tucker came out from eating. Moving slow, his eyes were mostly closed and his tongue was busy going over his whiskes and mouth. Sitting, he commenced to watching.
That’s when The Neurons or somebody caused me to sing, “Tucker. I just fed a kitty named Tucker.” This was done to the tune of “Blue Jean” by David Bowie. Right after that, the 1984 song fired up in my morning mental music stream (Trademark dished). It’s a catchy little Bowie number, jaunty with memorable lines which don’t convey any great depths. How did he do that?
Stay positive, confident, and strong. Lean forward and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been served in the office; here’s the music. Cheers
Down in North Carolina, we have a Black Republican who disparages Martin Luther King with juvenile insults, mocks school shooting survivors, insists that Michelle Obama is a man, and would’ve joined the Ku Klux Klan if they accepted Blacks.
It gets better.
Mark Robinson, the GOP’s overwhelming choice for nominee for the North Carolina governorship, has been around for several years with these outlandish claims. He and his claims were so out of there ridiculous that Trump eagerly endorsed him.
Now, more is coming out about Robinson. Evidence shows he’s been visiting porn sites and commenting online. He’s for slavery. Would buy a few himself.
The topper? This is an Evangelical.
Let’s pause and wrap our heads around the things Robinson says with what an Evangelical is supposed to be in the world of Christianity.
This is the GOP: a warped amalgam of American values, history, and political positions. Besides Trump and Robinson, there is JD Vance. He’s Trump’s running mate, out there lying about his Ohio constituents by claiming some of them are eating their neighbors’ pets. He agrees it’s a lie, but the lie is too important to their message to drop. Doesn’t matter to him that he’s endangering his constituents with his rhetoric…even as he calls for the rhetoric to be cooled because of threats to Trump.
Is that fucking twisting, or what?
As late night informercial offers used to declare, “Wait, there’s more!”
Elon Musk has become quite enamored with the right wing which Trump and the GOP are. So much that he took up Trump’s defense in the weirdest, most twisted way possible when pop star Taylor Swift endorsed Kamala Harris for POTUS.
“Fine Taylor … you win … I will give you a child and guard your cats with my life”
Weird has become popular to describe Trump. But the reality is, that party is getting more twisted. Sure, these are leaderships I’ve highlighted, but it’s their supporters and the party which keep them in power.
Vote blue. Please.
Mood: Sunumny
It’s Sunday, September 22, 2024. First day of autumn, aka fall, in the northern latitudes. Sumumn is still visiting Ashlandia. Chilly last night at 52 F at our place, the high will pop into the low 80s F today. A relatively windless day, sunshine baths a blue sky where lonely moon offers a pale version of its waning self high in the western sky.
Haven’t read any news this morning. Was just involved with other matters and felt no great urge to jump into war, disasters, politics, tragedy, or weather. I instead read more of my library book, Slough House, by Mick Herron. Entertaining and distracting, it’s just what I required with my Sunday morning cuppa coffee.
Although I’ve been reading about bots and AI off and on recently, a cat inspired today’s song. Messing around with Papi, the ginger blade, so named because of his slender shape, brought the song up. Papi is well established in his ways. After eating, he washes up and then comes for some skrive, which is flooflish for sritch-love. He only stays about eight minutes and then abruptly whirls and leaves. As he departed today, I told him, “Domo arigatō,” after he left the session, continuing, “I appreciate the visit. Come again.”
Click, The Neurons recalled “Mr. Roboto” by Styx and began playing it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark rusty). The song, which seems like it’s about a man who is a robot, came out in 1983. I was stationed on Okinawa, Japan in 1983. As with many Americans stationed over there in the military, domo arigatō was one of several common Japanese expressions we’d learned as part of that experience. So that song was instantly and hugely popular with a segment of the personnel. Later, I had a young friend when were stationed in Germany who loved this song. He’d played the drums and keyboards, sing the lyrics, and act as a robot during parts of it. Yes, a crazy, memorable dude.
Enjoy your day, stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Here’s the music, and awaaayyy we go. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 