Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts
I was in Gmail checking ethingies, scrolling throug the many daily appeals inundating my inbox. These appeals come from every and any organization I’ve belonged to, or expressed an interest in. They weary me with the need to unsubscribe, delete, etc., every damn day.
But the one today which had me shaking my head was the recurring one from Google to download and install Chrome. Because I was using Gmail on Chrome, as I almost always do. That, to me, is demonstrative of the empty approach that corporations take these days. It seems like their bottom line is, just puke some shit out via email onto consumers. Sooner or later, someone will take the bait. Happens with streaming recommendations, purchase suggestions…downaloads. Meanwhile, my resentment of all these corporations and organizations and their begging grows hotter and deeper, and the urge to bail on them increases.
And BTW, one of those other companies dumping multiple times a day on me urging to buy their products and services is Experian. I will fucking guarantee that I will never buy anything from that predatory organization. Take that to the bank.
Woundsday’s Theme Music
Mood: Reinvigorated
It’s Woundsday, December 4, 2024. The stagnant air seemed to have shifted a little, as the chill has abated. Although Ashlandia is claimed to be foggy, my perch’s view was fog free. Sunshine enriched blue skies took the vision field from end to end. Now, 11 AM, my personal weather sys says it’s 46 F outside. Alexa claimed it’ll be 67 F today but I don’t trust it. Other forecasts say 57 F today, which seems reasonable.
It’s Woundsday because I’ve been busy this morning licking my wound. Eww. Gross. Figuratively licking my wounds. The wound is the surgery site to repair my ankle. Much better today, thanks. Now I’m practicing my walk, trying to rid myself of my limp, regain some grace, and speed up my stride.
We’ve been following several news stories. One is that another Trump nominee has withdrawn. I’m not celebrating as I’m sure he’ll find a horrid replacement. My wife then regaled me with a few Buzzfeed anecdotes about people realizing what their support of Trump means to what goes on in their world. Trump nominees are surprising them. Examples include a business women who was planning equipment purchases being taught what the tariffs will do. Then there are parents with a child in Headstart just learning that Trump intends to shut down Headstart and now wonder what will happen to their child. In other words, they’re gettin’ woke by their vote.
Also following a story in Pennsylvania about a woman who fell into a sinkhole while looking for her cat in Tuesday morning’s cold, dark hours. I’m from that area and have family still living in the region, so it’s one of those six degrees of separation things. I hope they find her alive and well but I’m sadly doubtful at this point.
Today’s music in the morning mental music stream (Trademark okay) is “Feelin’ Alright”. I posted this song back in 2016. I wrote then: “I’d only recently learned that Dave Mason wrote this song. I knew that Traffic had performed it, but in my heart, this song always belonged to Joe Cocker. Whichever group or performer does it, the song always lifts me up. I loved it when he sang it in concert.” Still standing with that declaration. It’s my song for Woundsday because I’m going to have beers with my friends tonight. It’s our usual Wednesday setup. I haven’t attended for seven weeks. Haven’t had a beer in that period, too. I did have wine and rum with mulled cider on T-Day, though. Beyond that, I’m walking well and experiencing minimal discomfort and pain.
I woke from a dream this morning and remembered open lines from a Dylan Thomas poem.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
The dream had been about reinventing myself and reinventing the world, so I can understand the connection with the poem. It’s one of my top five poems.
Hope you have a superb Wednesday, and the days beyond today are also superb as we count down the last of 2024. Coffee and I have rekindled our relationship once again. We’re good to the last drop. Here’s the music. Cheers
Kitfloof
Kitfloof (floofinition) Animal who always arrives in the kitchen to beg for a treat when someone goes in to get food. Origins: Circa 2020, Oregon via Internet.
In Use: “A reliable kitfloof, Tucker always roused himself when Michael entered the kitchen, slow trotting in to see what he could beg off his floofman; perhaps a few pieces of chicken (his favorite), a small cheese offering, or the chance to like the dishes after. Michael rarely failed to give him something.”
Twosday’s Wandering Political Thoughts
It started with a conversation about President Biden pardoning his son. My wife said, “I was fine with that but I’m angry, too. He took care of his family but why didn’t he do more to stop Trump?”
She remains very angry about the election. Understanding that she holds onto anger, I don’t expect her to be over it for another twelve to fourteen years. Even then, she won’t ‘be over it’. A lifelong feminist, she already sees men encouraged to be bigger assholes when it comes to how women are treated in the United States.
She went on about how she thought President Biden should have started building protections against Trump as soon as it was known Trump won in 2024. Stirring up my inner devil’s advocate, I countered her.
“Why should President Biden do that? Why should he need to fight so hard to prove the economy is doing well? Trump’s conviction was aired, as were the other charges against him. So was his bizarred fucking behavior, like fellatio with a microphone. He’s a disgusting damn individual and he constantly display that. Meanwhile, Biden was fixing many things. Why should he need to beat the drums hard and loud for so many great things accomplished under his administration? Maybe when Trump won, Biden said, ‘Fuck it. If those voters want Trump, a convicted felon and known liar and cheat with no morals or scruples to be president, bring it on. They deserve what they get.'”
I don’t believe for a second that President Biden thought those words. He’s more honorable than that. No, that was all me as a fictional, enraged President Biden. Then again, me as an enraged fictional President Biden would have forced his DOJ to go harder after Trump as part of the big picture; you let anyone get above the law, you’ve lost.
Sure, many are having voter regrets. But I think most of them will take the shit Trump dumps on them, gloss it over, and call it a good thing. There’s just too much willful ignorance for me to conclude otherwise.
Twosday’s Theme Music
Mood: Twosdayized
28 degrees, Twosday come into the valley with sunshine, blue skies, and patchy fog. The day hovers in the liminal folds between autumn and winter, that murky zone called autner. Feels like it could get colder. Feels like clouds could march in and dump snow. But the sunshine claims it might get warmer. In fact, some forecasters insist, as they have on previous days, that today’s high will crack the fifties and stalk the upper edges toward sixty. But the valley’s stagnant air messes with the forecasting process. Yesterday’s high attained 45 F when 56 F was supposed to be the ceiling. So, I’m not planning to see 56 F today.
This stagnant air is weird. A still, windless phenomena, the chill it carries creeps through everything. You dress for much colder air and the house heating works hard because that creeping chill.
Going through the valley yesterday to shop, I saw that a thin line of brown pollution rimmed the more populated western region. Get used to that, I thought. Trump and his clown cabinet will cut regulations. “Business,” they’ll shout, and the sheeple shout, “Yes. Business first.” Business means prosperity, right? Wage increases. Profits. Bull market.
Most of the sheeple fail to understand that the government and economy worked better under Democratic control. Their limited memories don’t pull up the dark, sooty airs the United States experienced in the 1960s and 1970s before the EPA and their pesky regs came out and ordered, “Thou shall not pollute.” Nor do they comprehend the impact on health that it brings, and the reciprical effect on productivity and costs due to worker illness and absences. They don’t think that fucking deep. Or course, it’s hard to do so with Republicans bleating otherwise in a 24/7 cacophony. And it’s hard to remember and think whn your education is being hamstrung with teachings about how Jesus saved the world and climate change is a hoax, and look! Illegals! Trans! Woke! They also believe that wealthy people won’t hoard their wealth but will spread it around like fertilizer and turn everything cash green for everyone.
Yes, they are fucking fools.
Sigh. On to other matters.
We shopped at Costco. It’s been a go-to for us since the early 1990s. Our local Costco was moderately busy on a Monday afternoon. Mostly older shoppers. Ahem. Like us. As we entered and began our prowl, my wife shouted at the milling shoppers, “What about inflation?” She’s still riled up about that. I told her, “Babe, they’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna get worse. This is Doomsday shopping. They’re out here trying to get deals and soothe their troubled minds with food and toys to help them when reality crashes in.”
Being the second day of the workweek, it’s natural that this is called Twosday. Many don’t realize that the first spelling for ‘two’ or 2 was tue. Somehow, as the language and alphabet swelled into its current shape, tue became two. But the day of the week was already cemented in influential calendar makers, so Tuesdays remained.*
* Yes, that was all b.s.
Today’s music came out in 2020, while lockdown was prevalent. Being retired, I don’t work, so the song doesn’t really address me and my grips. But The Neurons called it up because I’ve been muttering to myself, “I need to get back to the coffee shop and get back to work on my writing.” Ding ding ding. The Neurons had a piece of “Work” by Pop Evil in the morning mental music stream (Trademark being worked): “All I do is work!”
Alright, coffee and I have come to an agreement. I will make it and pour it into my watering hole, and it will kick my energy up. Look up, open your eyes, and breathe deep. Time for another Twosday to be vanquished. Here’s the music. Cheers
Cyber Mundaye
Heads up, everyone! It’s Cyber Mundaye.
I know, I was taken by surprise, too. Fortunately, I saw sixteen zillion and seventeen emails alerting me to Cyber Mundaye. Deleting them, I almost forgot it was Cyber Mundaye. Fortunately, many pages that I clicked on had banners, headlines, or popups declaring Cyber Mundaye.
Thank Dog we have technology to remind us it’s Cyber Mundaye. What would we do without it?
Michael Seidel, writer 