Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Flooficulture (floofinition) – The science, art, or practice of cultivating an environment or attitude to make and keep animals, especially pets, healthy, happy, and satisfied. Origins: 15th century, Middle Floofish, from Middle Floonch, from Flooftin flooficultura, from floof animal + cultura cultivation.
In Use: “Many animals find that new owners are not well versed in making pets happy, and must educate their people in flooficulture.”
In Use: “Going all in with her new pets, Simon and Theodore, Karla surfed the net for flooficulture tips and insights, and quickly spent a fortune on toys, gadgets, treats, beds, and foods.”
In Use: “Entering through a window, the savvy ginger boi took in the setup and realized that these people knew their flooficulture and would make excellent new ‘owners’ for hisself.”
Spring has sprung for loads of pastels in Ashlandia. Enjoy it while you can. Summer is rocketing toward us. For today is Saturday, April 19, 2025. It’s 62 F and feels colder due to cloud cover. Those clouds menace with rain, but the weather seers say that isn’t the case for us in Ashlandia today. Instead, it’ll stay mostly cloudy with some sun and spring up to 71 F.
The weather displeases the cat. Giving up on consistent sunshine and warmth, he’s accepted shelter in the living room where he resides on the Malabar chair. This is his favorite site. He does move around and can surprise us with his location.
Fer instance, I awoke at 4 AM. Did I hear something? Was it the cat?
The bladder said, “Hey, I can use a break.”
Grumbling about giving my bladder a break in the middle of the night, I used the required facilities. My mind was awake enough to wonder if the cat was in or out. If he was out, did he want in?
I looked around the bedroom, dining room, hallway, and living room. No cat in sight. He wasn’t at the front door. I changed direction for the backdoor. As I walked, I became aware of a padding noise at my side.
“Where do you come from?” I asked the cat.
He rushed to the door. “Let me out.”
Today’s song offering comes out of my mind’s old song vault. The Neurons pulled it up after I read news stories and wondered if I was in the right reality. Sometimes I think that someone pulled the old switcheroo on me and changed reality without telling me. Maybe they’re doing this as a prank. It’s not funny to me, but I can see how others could be secretly watching and laughing. Maybe aliens did it. They were tired of abducting and probing us, so now they’re switching realities on us. It could explain a lot.
Aware of these thoughts, The Neurons dragged out “Unreal Reality” and dropped it into my morning mental music stream. This is a song by The Kinks that came out in the 1960s. I’m surprised The Neurons could find it.
Here are the words. Feel free to sing along. It’s an unusual piece for rock ‘n roll. h/t to Lyrics.com
All that I see, seems so unreal to me, Is it the truth or is it only fantasy, Is it a dream or is it unreal reality? All around me is such unreality, Optical illusions as far as my eyes can see, Is the whole thing a fake, or the ultimate reality? That house is so big that it reaches right up to the clouds It's got hundreds of windows, so the people inside can look out, And they look down below and wonder what it's all about. Look at that lady she got silver all over her face, Is she a human being or a creature from outer space, Is she authentic or phoney, I guess it's just a matter of taste. Oh because they can feel it, it's gotta be the real thing, Because they can touch it, it's gotta be reality. If they say it's real, it's gotta be the real thing. See that fella, looking all spick and span, Is he a tailor's dummy or is he a real man, Is he genuine, or straight off the assembly line. All round me is such unreality, Optical illusions as far as my eyes can see, Is the whole thing a fake or the ultimate reality? Is it a dream, or is it the real reality?
Reality or not, the coffee is in me, summoning energy from the depths of my being, which, admittedly, are pretty shallow. Hope your reality works out well for you. Here we go, one more time. Cheers
Do not click on this post unless you enjoy cat humor. Otherwise, it’ll be wasted on you. But as a cat guy, I laughed. Thanks go to the Bluebird of Bitterness for collecting and posting some humor. Cheers
Some relatable humor for your Saturday. Cheers
Some things catching my attention in the week’s news…
I enjoy Ali’s regular offering, Peace & Justice History. Posted every day on Scottie’s Playground, the post provides a high-level recap of the day in history in the realm of peace, law, and justice. I like it as a reminder of the history which has gone before. While there is sometimes a sinking sensation that history is part of a wash cycle, and we’re going through the spin and rinse once again, reading about others stands against war and for justice and human dignity can inspire and fuel my need for optimism.
Infidel753 provided a good overview of the Bond market and the huge implications for the U.S. when our bonds fall out of favor. As several have suggested, the bond market drop probably caused the pause in Trump’s wacky tariff scheme.
“The sale of Treasury bonds is how the US government borrows money. A bond’s value at maturity is fixed; its initial sale price is lower and is determined by supply and demand, with the difference between sale price and maturity value being the interest paid by the government to the investor. For example, if a bond is worth $100 at maturity, and you buy it for $95, then the $5 difference is the interest you get on the investment, effectively paid to you by the government. If you are less confident that the bond is a good investment, and you pay only $90, then your return is $10 when the bond matures, and the government is having to pay twice as much interest to borrow the money from you. In practice, the sale price of Treasury bonds is set by supply and demand and reflects investors’ collective level of confidence in the US economy at any given moment.“
“The reason this matters for the future of Trump’s befuddled trade and foreign policy is that huge quantities of US bonds are owned by foreign governments. Japan holds over a trillion dollars worth of them, China holds $760 billion, the UK holds $720 billion, Canada holds $380 billion, and many others also hold substantial amounts. Even by the standards of the US federal budget, these are very large amounts of money. And these governments have now learned that turmoil in the bond market can get Trump to back down even when nothing else can.“
Some hope was found that the Roberts Court finally, finally, took a stronger stance against the Trump Regime’s mass deportation scheme, the one that pretends that due process has no place in the U.S. no matter what the Constitution and legal precedence says. Jennifer Rubin at The Contrarian gave a concise summary of the latest ruling. Now we all wait to see what happens next. I haven’t perused the news yet, but something else may have already happened. Whatever else, the Trump Regime is an evil and diabolical machine in its pursuit of unlawfully getting people out of the country.
Milwaukee, Wisconsin is coping with lead paint in its schools. The Biden administration was working with them to help them out of this mess. Isn’t working for the common welfare one reason for the Federal government’s existence? But under the Trump Regime, the CDC experts who were going to help Milwaukee have been fired. And, the Trump Regime told them that it’s declining their request for help. I’m sure that Milwaukee citizens are probably wondering, why the fuck are we paying taxes, then. I know that would be my reaction. Not sure how this fits, but Wisconsin was a swing state that went for Trump while Milwaukee went for Harris.
A confusing piece was in The Hill. Trump on egg costs: ‘If anything, the prices are getting too low’. It was a real head-scratching read.
‘President Trump weighed in on the cost of eggs around the country, claiming Friday at the White House that the prices are “getting too low.”
‘Trump praised Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins for doing a “great” job and then asserted that egg prices are “down 87 percent, but nobody talks about that.”’
“Bullshit,” my wife said. “I just bought eggs. They’re not down ’87 percent’. If that’s right, why are they still so expensive in Oregon?”
Yes, it’s something else to ponder.
In this dream, I was in my early teens. Our school had a football team. I was not very good but they let me be on the team. I mostly played the bench.
We’d traveled away for a game. I suddenly had a feeling, I was going to play, and I was going to score a touchdown. In fact, as I thought about it, I became convinced that I was going to score three TDs. Moreover, I knew that one of these touchdowns would be on offense. The other two would be defensive scores.
The game began and I was not playing. Both teams were lackadaisical and the game was boring. I kept waiting to get in. Then, halftime arrived. The team sat around, joking and being silly. This frustrated me. I wanted the game to get on. I wanted to be in the game.
Halftime ended. Instead of continuing the game, a disorganized and chaotic scene ensued. I kept waiting for us to get back on the field. I didn’t know why, in accordance with the game’s rules and everyone’s established expectations, this wasn’t happening. But finally, yes, word came, the teams were to take the field. And, lo, I was sent out onto the field.
Some fast, intense violence, aka football, followed. I was playing okay. Then, I was on defense when a pass was tipped. I rocketed forward and got a hand on the ball. I meant to catch it and run but I instead batted and juggled it for several intense seconds as other players closed. Finally, just as someone was about to slam into me, I got control of the ball and raced into the end zone.
Then, just a few short plays later, I was on offense as a slot wide receiver. The ball was snapped. I stepped out right and cut sharply in toward the center of the field on a slant. The quarterback hit me in stride, and I was gone, and scored my second touchdown, my first on offense. Confusion swirled among my team mates. Some were asking, “Who was that?” Others were trying to confirm if I was the one who scored on the previous fumble recovery. A few were congratulating me and complimenting me on how well I was playing that day.
I was kept in the game on the opponent’s next drive. We were behind in the score by a few points. The other team’s offense set up to drive the field. But reading the play, I intercepted a pass and ran it back for a touchdown as the game ended. Amidst the jubilation, a reporter came up for an interview and confirmed that I’d scored my team’s only three touchdowns and asking me for my bio and playing info. While still on the field, sweaty and in my yellow and black uniform, I was shown a newspaper with a photo of me making the interception.
It was all very cool.
Michael Seidel, writer 