Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I should probably buy a new computer. Microsoft has warned me that it won’t be supporting this one much longer. That is a concern. Chrome never makes such dire threats. I don’t know if I can use another OS and other browsers. Probably can but it would be more of an investment in time than I want to do.
The computer is over a decade old. It can’t run Windows 11 without more changes. More importantly, the computer has developed some issues. Its chassis is slightly bent. That causes some control issues. Several keys have been replaced but it hasn’t been a successful fix. The HP Envy’s silver edges are worn black. The tab, q, and x keys often leave their stations. The backspace key broke in half and is held together by cellotape. Several keys, specifically the e, d, c, o, l, and n keys, have lost their identity as my fingernails tapped it away. I often need to consciously press hard on the t, c, and n key to get a response, along with the ctrl key and the delete key. It all slows me down. Every once in a while, the CD drive will pop open on its own, shouting, “Surprise,” like a drunk uncle, just to remind me that it’s there.
So a new computer need can be shown. But, this one still works. I’m just loathe to get rid of things just because they’re not the newest or because it’s less than perfect. Sure, it takes five minutes to fire up. When Chrome is used, five more minutes will pass before that is loaded. It plays pretty well with Windows and Edge, though.
I don’t know. I have the money. It was my birthday and I didn’t get anything else. Maybe it’s time, but I’ll probably let a few more weeks of sleep pass before I look for another. The whole thought train reminds me that I bought my first computer forty years ago.
Seems like it was yesterday.
I heard something hit the house last night. ‘Bout midnight. Turned out to be Twosda, August 5, 2025, staggering into the siding. Cool night, and mostly clear, offering views of a waxing moon and a spill of stars. We’re relaxing in 76 F air with a cloud-stained coating of sun-filled blue sky. 86 F wil be the thermometer’s top mark for Ashlandia.
Democratic governors are pleasing me these days. First, a shut out to those Texan Dems who left the state to prevent the Trump-Abbott collusion to destroy democracy in Texas and the United States. Second, huzzah to the Dem governors who took them in, and the Dem govs standing up to the GOP bullshit. California Gov. Newsome and Democratic New York Gov. Kathy Hochul are vowing to redistrict to counter Abbott’s moves in Texas. Frankly, I think such forceful action is needed. Meanwhile, Robert Hubbell published encouraging news in More signs of life among Senate Democrats.
Hearing of the Trump Regime’s eager use of space stuff to try to distract from the Epstein list, The Neurons loaded a song about the moon in the morning mental music stream. “Walking on the Moon” is a 1979 raggae rock offering by The Police. Sting wrote the song, mentioning being drunk as inspiration and also an early love. The Neurons entertained me with visuals of Trump waddling around the moon. The Neurons thought that Trump would trip and start uncontrollabling bouncing across the moon’s surface.
I’ve had a wink of coffee. Think I’ll have forty more. Hope grace and peace has its way with you today. Cheers
Sean Duffy, acting interim pretend director of NASA, wants to ‘expedite plans’ to put a nuclear reactor on the Moon. This is probably because, as everyone who has ever seen the numbers on space programs, sending people and equipment to the Moon is incredibly cheap right now, thanks to Trump’s tariffs. Also, thanks to Trump’s tariffs and the beautiful revenue flowing in to the Treasury, more money than anyone has ever seen at one time. The deficit will drop by 1500% overnight, so the U.S. will have more money to spend than ever imagined.
They also want to launch a new U.S. space station. With Trump’s love of gold, I’d expect the interior to be lavishly bedecked with gold plated pieces, including a gold plated toilet. He’ll probably want it named for hisself, so the regime will be launching the the Donald J. Trump Space Station. Melania Trump, who is a genius, as everyone knows (she married Trump!), will emerge from her seclusion to design the new space suits. Trump Space Industries will manufacture them (in China, of course). They will have tags which say, “Made in the U.S.A.”
Cost overruns will beset the project. So will schedule problems and delays because other countries which have the needed materials and manufacturing resources dropped the U.S. as a trading partner. Seeing the numbers, TACO will growl, “You’re fired,” replacing the project director with someone more familiar with Trump math, such as a Fox News anchor, or one of his personal lawyers. “Give me a Sharpie,” the Donald will bark, and then he’ll fix the numbers with a Sharpie, as he’s prone to do. (You should see the Sharpie markups of his personal Trump Bible!) He’ll tell us about his uncle, who was a professor at M.I.T., and tell us how his uncle taught him everything anyone knows about space and space travel back in 1980.
Trump will call it the big beautiful space mission, the most beautiful mission ever in the history of the world, the very, very greatest space mission ever. Grossly overloaded with gold, corrupted by Trump math, forced to use substitute products, the gold-plated Trump Rocket won’t clear the gantry and collapse on the launch pad. Comedians and social media will overflow with a comic Trump failure to launch meme.
“It’s Biden’s fault,” Trump will shriek, and order everyone to start talking about something other than the rocket launch failure. A text will fly across Trump social media. “The lying scum democrat Deep State led by lying Newsom and KAMALA HARRIS and Barack HUSSEIN Obama did this to me because they don’t want to Make America Great Again. THIS WILL NOT STOP US. WE WILL BUILD THE BEST ROCKETS AMERICA HAS EVER SEEN AND THEY CAN’T STOP US. Thank you for your attention to this matter.”
Michael Seidel, writer 