Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floof Jockey (floofinition) – Individual(s) responsible for maintaining order among animals and taking care of them.
In use: “In many households, floof jockey duties such as feeding, cleaning litter boxes, and exercise, are divided among children to help develop a sense of responsibility.”
He removed his toothbrush. Then he remembered that he wanted to wash his hands before he brushed his teeth. Hands washed, he reached for his toothbrush in its holder.
Gone.
WTH?
He looked around. There was the toothbrush, where’d he set it two minutes before.
So it was going to be that kind of day.
Someday has come. Without work, without church, without routines save the one to get out and write again, my world has a narrow scope. Days on end seem the same, domino pieces with the same number of dots in the same order. Specifics like weather change, sometimes adding to the experience. Anyway, we’re planning a cruise — well, looking for one — after putting it off for a few years due to COVID. Just a small cruise, right, to feel the ocean’s roll and look at the expanse and remind myself how tiny I am. We’ll still working on our moving plans, but that’s going to consume a lot of energy. I’m not deeply into it yet.
It’s Sunday, Feb 5, 2023. Breakfast was already consumed, a bit of cantaloup and a cinnamon raisin bagel, and the coffee was drunk. News has been perused. Rain fell through the night, replenishing more local reservoirs and cisterns. Snow accumulates in the snowpack. 40 F now, under a gray crown, looking for 50 later. Sunrise and sunset are 7:20 AM and 5:30 PM. Celebrating a friend’s new grandchild, number four for him. He and his family are very pleased. I’m happy and excited because they’re happy and excited. It’s contagious stuff.
Didn’t sleep well, dealing with floofquests to go in and out, to be fed and petted, loved on and played with. They don’t want to recognize that I’m a day creature. “Come join us at night,” they urge.
“It’s dark and I can’t see,” I reply.
“Don’t worry, we’ll help you. Mind that hairball. It’s fresh.”
A bright moon was a break-out hit at one point. Outside with Papi, enjoying the fresh rain-enlivened air, Papi said, “See? There’s plenty of light. What is that over there? What the hell, I’m out of here.” He scurried back, leaving me standing there and staring, mumbling to myself, “What is it? I don’t see anything. Papi? Papi?”
I was also wringing hands over editing decisions and book directions, cursing my novel as a vile creature that needs to be buried. It’s all good, just the process. A looonnngggg process sometimes. Out of this, The Neurons have directed a song from the last century into the morning mental music stream. “Epic” by Faith No More was released in 1990. I was still assigned to Germany at the time, and the song was hugely popular with the troops rotating in as part of Desert Shield/Desert Storm. It was heard often and loud.
Here’s the music. Stay pos and enjoy Sunday as best as you can. I will. Sort of. Cheers.
Polyfloofdron (floofinition) – A collection of several animals doing activities, such as sleeping or nursing.
In use: “After eating, grooming, and playing, the dog, cat, and kittens came together as a polyfloofdron on a bench cushion in the fur-melting sun.”
A friend has gone into hospice. Failing heart. Surgery to replace his pacemaker was aborted a few months ago. Measures were made to help him sufficiently recover for a new pacemaker. Whatever happened since, he’s in hospice.
I thought about him and me, and him and his life, trying to find words for where we’re at. I finally decided, I was happy to know him, enjoyed his company, admired his accomplishments, respected his principles, and enjoyed his company. The words feel empty and lost, as satisfying as reaching into an empty bag.
It’s the nature of existence as we know it to live and then die. Sometimes the space between the beginning and end are cruelly small. His was not. He’s done the first. Now he will do the second.
Websites seemed to be growing worse. Almost since the inception of the web, there was clickbait, slugs, ledes, and headlines to invite surfers to click and browse. Too many of these were outright misleading, trying to sensationalize political divisions and celebrity behavior.
Grammar declines. Punctuation mistakes, yes, and typos, which can happen, but some sentences are read several times before the fact is accepted that the sentence is I&I – incomplete and incoherent.
Now, bad links are blooming. Click on a link and it takes you to the wrong place. Is hijacking back? It seems like just weak execution. Whatever it is, it’s another modern, first-world annoyance.
Don’t get him started on the pathetic search results which are often returned.
He’d become pretty good at the blurt stage of fiction. This was about writing like crazy, inviting the muses in and plying them with drink, food, and drugs, getting them to open up and share. Volumes are written about every aspect of the novel from the concept to setting, characters, plot, and arcs. He needed to become better at the later stages of editing, revising, and developing a novel.
The wind of change is blowing outside my window. It’s probably just circulation caused by atmospheric pressures.
It’s Saturday, if you’re still keeping tabs, February 4, 2023. Ashlandia’s first sun viewing came around 7:21 this morning. Hard to pinpoint it with the obfuscating clouds gathering. Looks like rain but the air temp is a comfy 48 F with a high of 54 F being dealt to us. The world’s inevitable turning will bring sunset to us at 5:29 this evening.
The matter of change is still on my mind after a series of fascinating dreams. Well, they fascinated me. Anyway, Bob Dylan is singing in the morning mental music stream but so is Buffalo Springfield. The latter’s song is “For What It’s Worth”. Written back in the mid-sixties in response to riots in Los Angeles, CA, it’s often used as an anti-war song. But the song was about hippies and change, with the old guard deciding to crack down. A curfew was established. Any child under the age of 21 was not allowed out in that area of rioting.
There’s a lot to unload from all those basics. First on my mind was that those under 21 were restricted, not being treated as adults, in a time when eighteen-year-olds were being drafted for Vietnam. Seems like a bit of hypocrisy, doesn’t it? That sort of hypocrisy still circulates, with people in the military not authorized to buy alcohol in some states because they’re too young. Not too young to be armed and trained to kill and defend everyone else, but certainly too young to buy alcohol. Likewise, young women in some states can be raped and forced to give birth. They’re too young to marry and age is often cited as a reason for denying young people choices and rights, and yet, these girls are expected to have children.
Today’s theme music gravitates toward more recent events, the collapse of the USSR. “Wing of Change” by the Scorpions was written in response to what they were witnessing. Some thought the Berlin Wall would never come down, and that the United States and Soviet Union would locked in a nuclear standoff until one of them pulled the trigger. Now here we are, thirty years later, wondering if Russia, born from the rubble of the USSR, will be the nation to launch nukes.
Change is fascinating. It doesn’t follow neat lines and can often feel chaotic. Some people, whether it’s drugs, abortion rights, or using nukes and gun rights, view life and change through a tremendously narrow lens. Little change is welcomed in their world.
Anyway, that’s the song which The Neurons introduced as today’s theme music, “Wind of Change” by the Scorpions from 1991 to observe the fall of the U.S.S.R. and the ‘Iron Curtain’. Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the band changed their lyrics in concert.
“To sing ‘Wind of Change’ as we have always sung it, that’s not something I could imagine any more,” vocalist Klaus Meine told Die Zeit. “It simply isn’t right to romanticize Russia.”
When performing “Wind Of Change” during Scorpions’ 2022 tour, Meine sings:
Now listen to my heart
It says Ukraine
Waiting for the wind to change
Stay positive and make the most of your Saturday. I’m beginning with coffee, black, fresh, and hot. Here’s the music. Cheers
