Fogday’s Theme Music

Mood: Indeafoggable

We landed on Sunday, December 8, 2024, or maybe it landed on us.

Light rain graced us most of yesterday. We’ve been rewarded with a chilly, damp 38 degree F morning with silvery-gray fog as thick as my breakfast oatmeal, and I like my oats thick. No worries, as they tell us the valley’s high temperature will crack the low forties.

Papi the ginger blade is driving us nuts with this weather. My wife claims that he expects me to change the weather for him, and is disappointed that I haven’t. But rain, wind, fog, chilly weather, he keeps going out one door and returning to the other to tattoo his message to us, “Let me in.”

My wife and I watched the University of Oregon Ducks take on Penn State’s Nittany Lions yesterday. I lived in Pennsylvania for a decade plus when I was a child and have live in Oregon for months short of twenty years, and have family living in Pennsylvania, so there’s a flimsy personal attachment to the game. This is football, BTW, where the Ducks are undefeated and nationally ranked #1, while Penn State wore the #3 ranking and one loss. The game was the Big 10 Championship. The Ducks won but I’m amused how often I heard that they ‘held on to win’ as Penn State, seven points down, was trying to drive the field in the last two minutes and score a touchdown and get a point after (or two) to win. My preference for how it should be stated was that Penn State lost.

My wife had two questions about the game; what is a Nittany Lion, and why is Oregon’s team called the Ducks? Well, my wikipedia researched revealed that a Nittany Lion is made up, based on eastern U.S. mountain lions and a local geographic feature, Nittany Mountain. As for the Ducks, they were originally the Webfoots. These were fishermen who became Revolutionary War heroes who settled in the Williamette Valley. As ducks have webbed feet, some writers began referring to the Webfoots as ducks. The name was eventually changed.

I read a summary of the highlights and statements emerging from Drumpf’s ‘first network interview’ since he won the election. First, it’s wearingly to read this and think that anything he says is worth its weight in air. I mean, he has a history. Second, he sounds like he’s still disconnected from reality. In example, he still plans his mass deportation plans because, “You have no choice. First of all, they’re costing us a fortune. But we’re starting with the criminals and we’ve got to do it. And then we’re starting with others, and we’re going to see how it goes.” But economists tell us otherwise, that illegal immigrants do not cost us as much as he claims and actually add to the economy. Likewise, stats and studes show most illegal immigrants are not criminals and are less likely to commit crimes [1] [2] [3]. Doesn’t matter in Drumpf world. Likewise, he still insists on “Drill, baby, drill,” to increase oil production and drop prices, even though U.S. oil production is at record levels and oil prices are dropping due to a global lack of demand. But dinosaurs like Drumpf — and his MAGA GOP — cling to disproven and outmoded ideas.

We’re attending a holiday concert today. I was making the bed and thinking about what I would wear when The Neurons began playing “Secret Agent Man” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark chillin’). Naturally for me, it was the Johnny Rivers version of the song, which we had in our household on a 45 RPM record when I was still a singleton. I know and like the guitar oriented song. But hearing it in my head this morning, my reaction was, WTF? Where did that come from? I asked Les Neurons, what brought this on? They said nothing. I thought of what I’m writing in my fiction, and it’s not at all related. I’m reading several books but none of them mentioned secret agents. Now, I am watching “The Agency”, “The Diplomat”, and “The Day of the Jackal”. Maybe their combined weight slipped into the liminal cracks and stirred memory of the song out of its slumber in its grey cell nest. I was surprised, as other songs and ideas had been stirring in the mmms, but here we are.

Let’s get positive and move forward. I’ve moved forward with my morning coffee and feel better for the effort. Here’s the music. Cheers

Gakdar

Gakdar (floofinition) – A system of instincts and senses used to spot an animal’s vomit before it is stepped in. Origins: circa 1960s, United States slang.

In Use: “His gakdar failing, Michael walked right into a small, wet present from one of his floofs.”

In Use: “Many people living with a pet for the first time soon learn that good gakdar is a necessity.

Saterday’s Theme Music

Mood: Saterbabbling

It’s fun to hear inflections and dialects as folks address the days. Someone the other night sounded like there were saying ‘Saterday’ instead of ‘Saturday’. I mentioned it to my wife. She frowned and asked, “Is this a difference?” To me, yes, I heard a difference but I could be crazy.

Well, it’s Saterday, December 7, 2024, the anniversay of a day which will live in infamy, as they say. I wonder if younger people are still taught about the attack on Pearl Harbor? Or do they just pick up knowledge about it from books, movies, and TV?

A white brick of a sky overlays our valley. Sunshine is trying to chisel through but it’s a listless effort. We’re cooking along at 36 F now, ready to storm up to 49 F. The threat of light rain is dangling over us. Not bad as far as an autumn winter day goes.

Cycling through news stories I read up on police officers illegally selling guns. Not just a few but in twenty-three states. They’re usually senior law enforcement personnel. Leading by example.

Then there was the gem about using private school vouchers to pay for horseback riding lessons. Marvelous. *snark*

Finally, the GOP is creeping out with earnest statements about cutting social security. Do recall how they insisted that President Biden was lying when he mentioned they had those plans? Classic bait and switch GOP, luring MAGA supporters in with one lie and then giving them something else.

Looking forward to when MAGA awakens to how they’re being screwed.

BTW, I shared the CBS news story about the police illegally selling guns on my Facebook feed. It’s something I rarely do these days but I thought peopl should know this is happening. FB removed it. Said it ‘violated their community standards’. Which, using the transitive property, means that truthful news stories violate Facebook’s standards. They called it ‘spam’; yes, the truth is spam for FB. Sounds kinda Orwellian. That’s the bottom line for that sinking enterprise.

Reading of the election results and other things being ‘explained’, I couldn’t help but think that a lot of it is just babbling. Pundit babbling for the most part, with some strategists thrown in for flavoring. Responding, The Neurons plugged “Psychobabble” by the Alan Parsons Project into the morning mental music stream (Trademark unravelling). The song’s last line seems fitting: “I don’t care, it’s all psychobabble rap.”

Let’s get positive, lean forward and move forward. Coffee has been re-introduced to my biosystem. All systems are go. Here’s the music.

Cheers

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

Nothing like unwittingly stepping — barefoot — into floof gack to change the morning’s trajectory.

Unwittingly is not superfluous there, either. On the one hand, what fool would wittingly step into floof gack? Are there people out there who cry with glee, “Look, floof gack,” and step in it? Perhaps; this world has some unusual individuals in it.

But it was unwittingly because I didn’t know anyone had gacked. So the gackdar was down. No warning at all until my recovering foot found the wet squishyness under it, forcing me to keep it up off the floor while I hopped-hobbled to the bathroom to rinse it off.

At least it was on the hardwood floor, and it wasn’t a major gack, just a category one. Easy clean up, you know?

DFZ

DFZ: Deflooferized Zone (floofinition) – Space or location where an animal’s presence is discouraged. Origins: Late 1950s, United States.

In Use: “Many people who share a space with a floof attempts to create DFZs, like beds, sofas, and counter tops. But modern video surveillance systems inform them that once they leave the house, DMZs become comfort zones.”

Friday’s Wandering Political Thoughts

So…someone murdered the CEO of UnitedHealthcare.

I don’t applaud it. Violence doesn’t resolve anything. It generally incites more and greater violence. How is that helpful?

But I understand it. I understand the person’s frustration, even though I don’t know their particulars. The murdered man, Brian Thompson, led a healthcare corporation. Tales of despair and frustration circulate about the sick and injured lamenting how they’re treated by those corporations. Brian Thompson’s company had installed AI to help them deny benefits. For those companies, denying claims is how they protect their bottom line, decrease costs, increase profits, push up stock prices, and gain greater wealth. The killer inscribed on a found round, “Deny, defend, depose,” words well known to too many people dealing with the healthcare industry.

My bottom line is, I’m sorry he was murdered. But also, he reaped what he sowed. And, I’m not surprised. I’ve read and heard multiple people vent anger, despair, and frustration with those companies. As a recent example, Anthem BCBS announced in November a controversial decision about paying for anesthesia. It angered anesthesiologists enough that they issued statements decrying what they perceived as a money grab. Last week, in the wake of the shooting. Anthem BCBS announced they’d reversed the new policy.

The shooting wasn’t a complete surprise. In America, where a gun culture prevails and disagreements come to a head with people deciding to shoot others to resolve matters, it was simply a matter of time before something like this happened.

Thoughts and prayers, you know? Sigh.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Futuremistic

Looks like we a bit’o Procol Harum with “Whiter Shade of Pale” taking over the autner sky. 36 F. Fog is reported. High of 51 F prophecized. Seems doable, as we hit 52 F yesterday. Do still have a stagnant air advisory camping on us. That gives us a broad range of air quality around town. Green and acceptable at lower elevations but yellow and a risk to people with respiratory issues as you go higher.

I admit to not reading the news yet today. I’ve been dealing with emails and texts from friends and families instead. Most of those fell under quake concerns or holiday plans. Sofar as the quake, we good here in Ashlandia. I did a brief scan for damage reports and saw nothing, knock on wood.

The cats are enjoying the milder weather. Both head out in search of early sun and hang around the backyard as birds visit. Good seeing them out there lounging, washing, and birding. These two are not mighty hunters. At least, they’ve never rewarded us with a trophy. They prefer kibble and wet food, and live and let live cause the alternative is too taxing.

My Neurons have a Boston song out of 1978 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark fluttering). “Don’t Look Back” was a dream admonishment. It was natural that the song filled my stream as I went through the dream review. 2024 was a meh year for me. Health issues, frustrations, and the elections results all subtracted from whatever advances I made. I won’t bore with details. Dream advice came like something out of Field of Dreams, “Don’t look back.” The woke gist concluded, created a vision and move forward. And while it sounds like it may have come out of left field, it was the culmination of several days of ruminating. I take it as solid advice: stop looking back. Move forward.

Part of the ruminations on the elections front came from a NYT piece about how Trump won. Their strategist went after the deeply undecided, not paying attention voters residing in streaming land. In my paraphrasing of what I read, while the Dems went traditional with big television buys, the GOP realized that there were large masses of folks on streaming platforms who wouldn’t see the TV ads. They, especially the young, became their target.

Looking ahead, I thought, that was clever. We — the Dems, Progressives, and Liberals — should embrace that as a counter approach to what Trump’s administration is plotting. Put it onto the streaming platforms about their plans. Be specific, repetitive, and detailed about what it means to the economy, inflation, and tax revenues if the mass deportations are allowed. Share personal anecdotes of how people are affected. Get graphic and real about what happens if Headstart and the Dept of Education are killed. Be real and give them the pointed end of climate change facts and its impact on health, safety, and the economy.

Teach them some real history. IMO, teaching to the test, the education system has been weak inculcating critical thinking among students. We need to close that gap. We need to that Republicans aren’t good for the economy. That tariffs will not save them money. Feed them information in the way that it was done via Schoolhouse Rock! style done in the latter half of the last century. As the Republicans said about President Obama’s agenda, “Obstruct, obstruct, obstruct.” We must do the same, but we also need to shift us from leaning red as a nation to deep blue.

So, I’m focusing my efforts on looking forward and moving forward. I’ll limit looking back in regret or anger, and shift to visualizing success. Hope you can do the same.

Coffee and I have done our morning meet. Time to rock on. Here’s the music.

Cheers

In The Beginning

They told us we had to have skin.

Our mind pulsed against the news. We don’t know that we would have accepted the premise, were we told beforehand that having skin was a requirement.

Ca!ixha flew in over our head, red with anger. Their thoughts flew into our awareness. Anger, shock, wariness. Doubt. The overarching question, is it true? Is this needed?

My intellect sewed together the action. Having skin was inevitable. We were studying Humans. We needed to live among them, like them, to learn what it is to be them.

We swallowed this with hardship. But as I did, I pulsed in pride. I’d thought, I think, like a Human, using their constructs. ‘Beforehand’. ‘Sewing’. ‘Action’. ‘Live.’ ‘Swallowed’.

?sho7zn came in. They’d been integrating with others and informed us of greater requirements. We will eat. We will have body functions. We will be I. Me.

Human aspects were introduced to our understanding. We would have ears and tongues. The tongues would be in mouths. With teeth. Hair.

We choked down disgust as the Overreach began threading us with these Human aspects. Eyes and noses. Bones and muscles.

The weight of these things burned our sentience. We were to breathe. Hearts and lungs were given. . Nerves were threaded through us. Skin was applied.

Helplessness ached in us. Our eyes formed ‘vision’. We saw as Humans would see. Millions of us were stretched across the space, layers of us, shoulder to shoulder, feet to head, all looking up, stupidly grinning, waving our appendages. Sounds as Humans trickled in. We gurgled and cooed and giggled and farted.

The Overreach bestowed us their presence. “Now your journey will begin. You will soon each have a mother, at least in the initial stage. What happens to her and you after that will determine whether that mother will remain with you. We are with you the entire time and will gather and analyze all of your activities, thinking, and feelings so that we may learn what it is to be Human.”

Our being buzzed with thinking of ourselves as ‘her and you’ and the many shapes and meanings these words convey. We would be ‘he’ and ‘she’, ‘him’ and ‘her’. The contexts had been introduced to us but without greater substance for attachment, they’d been abstract voids. With the body now encasing us, we were beginning to grasp what it all meant. We would have sex. We would sleep.

The Overreach said, “Now, it is time to be born.”

Red lights flared around us. Cold air swamped our tiny form. Something roughly took hold of our body.

In response, we screamed.

Our Human interation had begun.

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