Floofkaesque
Floofkaesque (floofinition)– Weird, surreal, or unusual noises or actions done by animals. Origins: 1990s Internet, based on Kafkaesque, a word derived from the writing style of Franz Kafka (1883-1924)
In Use: “When Oaou first joined the household, the small ginger whirlwind would come to the room entry where his people and bark like a small poodle, squawk like a parrot, or issue another floofkaesque noise, causing constant wonder about the little cat’s floofstory.”
In Use: “The crow was already friendly if floofkaesque, bringing shiny gifts such as metal tableware, bracelets, single socks, and plastic storage lids in return for the snacks Dee set out for him every morning and evening.”
Recent Use: “Social media provides many floofkaesque scenes, such as a video of a cat, dog, deer, and duck sitting together on the front porch of a person who has no pets.”
The Puzzle Dream
I thought of this as the puzzle dream but it could also be the cookie cutter dream, or the surprise flying dream.
Started, I was younger, in my early twenties, outside, part of a huge crowd of people, all about my age. They were passing out these white pieces that looked like plastic cookie cutters to me. Looking at it, I’m like, “What am I supposed to do with this?” No one close to me had any answers. Like me, they were regarding their piece with confusion.
But playing around with it, because that’s my nature, I discovered that I could make two pieces just by tugging on a side. That caused a new one to slide out while the original’s mass and structure didn’t change. Others were finding this, too. I wanted to know how many one piece could yield and soon found I had ten pieces. What the heck was I to do with them, though?
I thought the pieces were hard but since I could pull one piece out of another, I wondered if they were malleable, so I started twisted them and found, yeah, they were malleable. I could make them bigger or smaller. Someone else suggested, “Try putting them together.” I didn’t see a way at first but kept working it. Suddenly, I found that if I put two pieces edge to edge and then squeezed hard on the joined edge, they’d be one.
I rapidly began making more pieces, putting pieces together, and shaping them into something big. I had no idea what I was making. The shapes just pleased and interested me. What was boring was the color: these were all white, like, bright, refrigerator white. So tedious. I wanted to make them into another color.
A nearby female said something similar and then others spoke up, agreeing. Then a young man kind of gasped and said, “Look!” He’d changed a piece into red. We all asked, “How’d you do that?” He answered, “I don’t know.”
I started looking at mine and thinking as the others still questioned him. Holding a piece, I thought, blue, and it was immediately blue. The female who’d first mentioned the colors did the same, and we started talking about it. Then she and I and two other guys started putting pieces together from different sides, creating a four-sided thing together.
I wanted it bigger. Pulling my pieces back apart and explaining that to the rest, I asked some others to join us. We soon had a group putting pieces together on several sides, creating something big. Someone asked, “What is it?” My first thought was, “It’s a building.” Someone else said that, and another replied, “It’s a building that’s a city.”
Then I said, “No, it’s a spaceship.” I told them, “It’s a multi-generational spaceship so that we can live in space and travel to other parts of the universe.” Questions about it were asked of me and I answered, developing a greater vision of it as I did. People protested that it’s not big enough. I answered, “This is a model so that we can build the real thing after we figure it out.”
Then a man came by and told us, “Stay playing with the blocks.”
First, I didn’t think of them as blocks.
He continued, “Take this. I want you to learn out to use them.”
“Use them for what?” a woman asked.
“To fly,” the man answered.
The things he was passing out while talking were like plastic white shoelaces about ten inches long. Four of them were attached on one flat end so the strings were parallel to one another. I, like others, was skeptical. “We’re going to fly with these?”
“Yes. Twirl them over your head.” The man held up white streamer and twirled it over his head. “Just do it like that.”
I laughed, completely disbelieving of him. While others questioned him, “You twirled it and you’re not flying,” I twirled mine. They were more difficult to twirl than I expected. I kept changing my grip and trying different speeds. Suddenly I took off. As soon as I did, I stopped twirling, surprised by success, and dropped back to the ground. Others had seen and rushed over, demanding, “How did you do that?”
Dream end.
Monday’s Theme Music
Mood: flexible
Good day, humans. Rise and shine. Time to try again.
Monday has opened its eyes. Today is Feb. 5, 2024. Cloudy is today’s sky description. Wind has calmed; rain is on a break. 47 F now, 51is the suspected high, after an overnight low of 38 F.
Haven’t read much news this morning, as I’m into a book by Colson Whithead, Crook Manifesto. I admire his language use, the phrases he turns, the characters he projects. Suberb pacing and plotting as well. He’s won a few Pulitzers for a reason.
When I did turn to the net for news, I sighed and thought, more coffee needs swallowed before I can take on those headlines and their stories. I wondered, when will we land on the Star Trek track where we make greater and more impressive changes? Will we ever reach that point, or will we forever fight the same wars again and again? At the rate we’re going, we’re going to ruin civilization, take down humanity and much of the planet in the same blink.
Yeah, I’m a bit pessimistic and cynical on this chilly AM.
Out of this, I remembered a song line, “I hope we see the light before it’s ruined.” Took me a few to recall it’s from “Ghetto Gospel” by 2Pac, and then the 2005 song began running the course in my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Released in the year that I moved to southern Oregon, I caught the song on as I traveled back and forth to meet with my team in San Mateo, California, every month. I find the song has a lovely and intriguing melody and a powerful but hopeful message. I’ll take some hope with my coffee today.
Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and vote. Back to the coffee cup for me. Enjoy the video and music. Cheers
Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts
Had to replace the overhead bulb on the stove. It’s for one of two lights setting on either side of the exhaust fan, below the microwave, above the range.
As I’m removing the old way and going through the usual questions of what watts, what size, all that, I see that instructions for replacing the bulbs are printed on a label right there by the exhaust. Only problem for me is that this required me to be on the other side of the stove to read it, you know the rear of the stove, the part residing against the wall.
Boy, someone was thinking hard when they made that decision.
Sunday’s Theme Music
Mood: lazeepy
Greetings Worldlings. Welcome to Ashlandia, where it is Sunday, February 4, 2024.
We’re tangoing with the wind and rain today. Dark out there, like the sun called in sick. 41 degrees F now, that wind slices the heat right off ya. Riding that wind, the rain slashes like millions of kitten claws, shockingly sharp pricks to the system. Were supposed to shuffle up to 46 F as today’s high, but shade me dubious that this will happen.
And somehow, I’m now thinking of dinner. Chinese food fits my mood and weather in my mind, so I’ll propose it to the household’s other human and see what transpires.
I’ve been reading about the politics and facts about the southern US border and immigration for the past several days. A NYTimes article the other day recapped efforts to fix the situation since the Dubya’s time as POTUS. Does it surprise anyone that when deals were reached, the GOP’s hard right often put a stop to it? Yes, this is the same hard right gunning to stop legislation again. Different people, same MO: their way or nothing. (Yes, it was also once moderate Dems who killed the legislation.) So we’ve had nothing for twenty years while they bitch and scream for someone to do something. Same thing is happening this year, with former POTUS DJ Trump urging his congressional supporters to shut it down. Otherwise, President Biden and the Democrats would get credit for doing something about the border situation, and the GOP would lose one of their fear planks.
Without further surprise, one states’ rights constitutionalist governor, Abbott of Texas, is flouted federal law and the recent SCOTUS ruling against it. Reminds me of the 1960s and 1970s, when racism was being battled, and those red state governors fought against discrimination laws and integration. Reminds me, too, of those ‘pro-life’ states forcing women to carry to term regardless of the woman’s situation. These are the small government folk who decry the Democrat’s government philosophy because they find it too invasive. Damn hypocrites.
Jill Dennison inspired The Neutron’s musical choice for today. Jill’s blog is a regular stop, although I sometimes board late. She’s often charming, sometimes humorous, frequently political, regularly snarky, and always absorbing. I read her post about her music choice yesterday, “Lady”, written by Lionel Richie and performed by Kenny Rogers. Released in 1980, it was a crossover success in the US but also charted well in Canada, Europe, Australia, and New Zealand.
But when I saw, “Lady” as her title, I wondered, “Oh, is she talking about the Styx power ballad?” Then The Neurons launched “Lady” by the Australian group, the Little River Band, which remains in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) today.
“Lady” by the LRB was released in 1978. I’ve written ’bout my late friend Randy a few times. I met him in 1992, when he came to work for me. An Atlanta Braves fan, regular cigarette smoker, and fan of the rock groups Van Halen and Boston, he really loved “Lady” by Little River Band, and yes, he declared love. Whenever this song came on when Randy and I were together, he announced that fact, no matter what else was happening. Then you’d see his lips moving as he silently sang along.
BTW, I really doubted it would be the Styx song as Jill’s choice. Their rock and roll style isn’t her style, IDT.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward and vote. Coffee is being served and consumed, hot and black. Just keep it coming. Thanks for reading and have a good one. Here’s the music. Cheers
Floofrade
Floofrade (floofinition) – An animal who is a close associate, confidante, or companion.
In Use: “Many people shut in with illness or social isolation often bond with an animal who becomes their floofrade, alleviation their loneliness and buoying their spirits.”
In Use: “People rage about which make better floofrades, cats or dogs, a silly argument, as many people — and animals — easily have both canine and feline floofrades, along with birds, hamsters, turtles, and wildlife like squirrels, crows, deer, and chipmunks.”
Recent Use: “Social media is heavy with stories about how a found floof becomes someone’s floofrade and saves them.”
Saturday’s Theme Music
Mood: coffeemistic
Good morning to all you fellow solsters, riding Earth as we race around the sun. It’s a fine and blustery sprinter day in Ashlandia, where coffee shops and bookstores are above average. Sunshine is bursting at the seams today, Saturday, February 2, 2024, although I don’t know what seams. Just an expression I picked up from Mom eons ago. I challenged her, what seams, when she used the expression on something without seams. “It’s just an expression for something really big,” she replied. “Use your imagination.”
The cats love the sunshine but dislike the cold and wind. See, despite the sun and an outside temperature of 47 F, that wind changes the feel index, and the cats know it. This is strongly true in the shadows, and both Tucker and Papi ended up declaring, the paw with this. Though, of course, Tucker tried once and knew while Papi had to go out and come back four times to verify it was better outside.
Objective one in selling the house is underway. The house was washed yesterday. Second task is the scrapping and minor repairs. Third is the actual painting. Then we move to objective two, landscaping.
The cats’ reaction to the power washing was interesting. Tucker went to his bed spot, thoroughly washed, and went to sleep. Papi, however, watched and then distanced himself from the house. Impressively, as soon as my wife returned from her exercise class, coincidently when the painting crew left, Papi raced past her into the house when she opened the door. Straight to the food bowl the poor floof went, scarfing down kibble to make up for being food deprived for over two hours.
Today’s song is “Hand Me Down World”, a song released by a Canadian rock band, The Guess Who, back in 1970. Though more known for their hit, “American Woman”, the band had a number of other hits and I enjoyed them. The Neurons plugged this into my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) today fifty-four years later because I made the mistake of thinking about something that was hand-me-down in the kitchen, a pie server.
I feel the same now about the song and its intentions as I did fifty-four years ago. Basically viewing it as a protest against the way things are, the song argues for change for the better. Remember that this was the cold war era, when the US and USSR and their respective allies stood ready to fire off nukes at one another in the name of deterrence. Remember, too, the pollution filling the skies, turning cities like Pittsburgh into midnight on sunny days. The Civil Rights Movement was storming across the nation, the Vietnam Conflict was still underway, and protests against business as usual in politics was a regular feature of the nightly news. Look up the history of the 1960s and you’ll read about protests in the streets and on campuses. Remember segregation and integration, the Detroit riots, the Chicago 7, police brutality, and the 1968 Democratic National Convention? Then, to cap things off in 1970 were the Kent State National Guard shootings. The 1960s were also when President John F. Kennedy and Senator Bobby Kennedy were assassinated, along with MLK, Jr., and Tricky Dick Nixon was lodged in the White House. This was the era of tune out and turn on as the hippie culture rose.
There was a lot of other things happening in that troubled era of change. All that’s the iceberg’s top. So, yeah, thirteen years old, I was ready for change, and embraced songs like this calling for it. Although we’ve made a lot of progress since then, the GOP is ready to go back to that bullshit. We’re still dominated as a nation by racism, sexism, discrimination, and the patriarchy. We’re still fighting for equality and justice for all, regardless of how they look, their gender or sexual orientation, or the color of their skin. We’re supposed to be a melting pot of different strengths, weaknesses, and differences, which was what made us strong. Progress has been made but a lot more is needed.
Yet so many people’s minds are closed against progress. Many are keeping their minds closed to be spiteful. Others didn’t keep up with change and resent that their way of life has been left behind. Others are apparently so full of hate for those who are not them that they’re ready to destroy the nation in the name of their politics or gods.
Stay positive, stay strong, lean forward, and vote like your rights depend on it. I’m coffeenated but ready for more. Here’s the music. Cheers
Friday’s Wandering Thoughts
Do you know that they still sell packages of cookies that don’t reseal? I’m not talkin’ of one or two cookies; these are packages of twenty-four cookies. It’s like they expect us to eat all the cookies at once so they’d don’t bother with a resealable package. It’d be uncivilized for us to eat a few and then set aside an open package of cookies. The cookies’ freshness must be preserved.
Those manufacturers not providing resealable packages are really cruel. Mean. Barbaric. I’m looking at you, Trader Joe’s.
Michael Seidel, writer 