Category: Information

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: sketchy

Ahoy, friends. Today is January 20, 2024.

I have a weather report fresh from outside. Papi, my orange boi, reports miserable conditions. Blowing winds, rain, and no sun or warmth at all breaking free of the fortress of bulging grey and white clouds. “Quite miserable,” he miserably said. I stroked his back and found the fur soaked and cold. Pulling out a towel, I dried him as he finished his commentary. “Dogs might enjoy it but no civilized floof would.” He gave me a glance. “I think you’ll need more of that extra fur you wear.”

It’s 42 and will be 53 F for the record. He’s spot on with the rest.

I haven’t read any news this morning, occupying my time with reading a novel instead. So I’m in a good mood, but sketchy because I need to dash away soon. Having experienced so much trouble this week finding a good writing perch at the coffee shops, I decided I need to leave the house earlier, forcing me to step up from coffee sipping speed to at least coffee gulping.

Today’s theme music is a 1992 song called “Connected” by Stereo MC’s. The Neurons dished some of the lyrics into the morning mental music stream (Trademark half-baked) when I was busy with the early morning rituals. “Gonna get myself connected. I see through you. I see through you. Your dirty tricks. You make me sick.” Then there’s that chorus: “If you make sure you’re connected, the writing’s on the wall. But if your mind’s neglected, stumble you might fall.”

Yeah, somehow that fits this year’s early feel. If you’re not paying attention, you can stumble and fall because there’s so much information pouring through our lives about who said and did what and the ramifications of this stone getting turned over, or that nuance of someone’s expression. Yikes. Gotta pay attention.

I don’t think I’ve heard this song in a while but back in 1990s, while scurrying about the SF Bay Area on shopping trips and work commutes, I heard it often. I like it’s rythm, beat, and lyrics. It’s an easy song to sing when you’re alone in a car or driving with someone who will put up with your singing, or even join in.

Be positive, stay strong, test negative, and keep leaning forward toward better times. We can get there if we don’t stumble and fall. That’s why I drink coffee; keeps me moving forward. Kind of. Sometimes it’s a sideways shuffle but it’s often forward, even if it’s just by millimeters. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

When Blackouts: A Novel by Justin Torres won the National Book Award for Fiction in 2023, I read a summary of the book and thought, oh, I want to read that. I went online to my library, put a hold on it, and learned that I was number sixteen. My wife then told me that she’d put a hold on it and was number seventeen.

Yesterday, I received a notice that the book was available for me. My wife, being nice, offered to pick it up when she was downtown. When I came home from my writing session, I asked her where it was.

“I’m reading it,” she replied. “But they told me that my copy is available, so you can go pick that up.”

Duped again.

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Floofadverse

Floofadverse (floofinition) – Persons or places who are unwelcoming to animals.

In Use: “Despite being public places designed to enjoy nature, parks are often floofadverse, without irony posting signs declaring that ‘no animals’ or ‘no dogs’ are allowed in the park.”

In Use: “One of the apartment building’s other inhabitants was hugely floofadverse, screaming that the tiny gray cat was the devil and on the verge of attacking her, even though the six-pound animal was six feet away and cowering from her screaming.”

Recent Use: “With the rise of service animals, many establishments in the U.S. are relaxing their floofadverse stances, although they frequently had to deal with health and safety regulations which prohibited animals.”

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The Editorial

First, I know I’m always hard on the NYTimes. But they frequently give me cause. For example, a reporter this week wrote about how diverse Iowa is, and how well it represents America. Iowa, with its about 86% white population. (Yes, that’s just one aspect of diversity, but it’s a pretty striking one.) I know it sent progressives like me flocking to the net to check that declaration about Iowa’s diversity.

Of course, sites like MediaBiasFactCheck lists the NYTimes as left-biased. That amuses me; I think it highlights just how much to the right the United States actually leans. Compare it to Europe and what I read in newspapers based in Europe, and I see far less of a leftist bias.

That aside, the NYTimes has an editorial up this week titled, “The Responsibility of Republican Voters“.

Editorials like these are like shouting into a snowy hurricane; MAGA and the Republicans who keep supporting Trump or giving him cover aren’t interested in his failings. They simply want to stay in power, perhaps to correct wrongs they perceive after being fed a diet of lies by Trump and the GOP to validate their impressions, or to stick it to the libs — a comment I often see — without realizing that Trump is a beast beyond their control. As he’s done several times, if someone does something he doesn’t like, he turns on them and attacks. Besides all of that, he doesn’t keep any promises and is a vain, shallow person who’s thinking rarely advances past what is good for himself.

The Editorial Board points all this out and more in their editorial, highlighting Trump’s disrespect and disregard of the powers and rule of law spelled out by the Constitution and court rulings, and how this is so different from most other lawmakers.

‘When the Supreme Court delivered a sharp setback to President George W. Bush in 2008, ruling that foreign terrorism suspects held at Guantánamo Bay had the right to challenge their detention in federal court, the Bush administration accepted the ruling. Senator John McCain, then the Republican Party’s presidential nominee, said he disagreed with the court, “but it is a decision the Supreme Court has made, and now we need to move forward.”

‘By contrast, as president, Mr. Trump repeatedly attacked the integrity of other government officials — including members of Congress, Federal Reserve governors, public health authorities and federal judges — and disregarded their authority. When the court ruled that the Trump administration could not add a citizenship question to the 2020 census, for example, Mr. Trump announced that he intended to ignore the court’s ruling. After leaving the White House, Mr. Trump refused repeated demands, including a grand jury subpoena, to return classified materials to the government. As the government investigated, he called on Congress to defund the F.B.I. and the Department of Justice “until they come to their senses.”’

Nice to see the NYTimes step out of their bothsiderism cocoon. It would have helped if their reportage and commentary was sharper and more on point in the past. Instead, they worked hard to project themselves as balanced and neutral. Despite that, the modern right mocks mass media and publications like the NYTimes as fake news, left-leaning, or progressive. Trump himself escalated those attacks since he entered politics.

From the NYTimes of Feb 20, 2019:

‘Even by his standards, President Trump’s biting attacks on the press this week stand out.

‘He has praised a libel lawsuit against The Washington Post, called for “retribution” against NBC for satirizing him on “Saturday Night Live” and, on Wednesday, issued his sharpest words yet against The New York Times, calling the newspaper “a true ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE!”’

In reading the article from 2019 again, it was nice to see that they didn’t say anything about the other side doing the same.

I don’t know about you, but reading posts, comments, and articles about Trump supporters doesn’t lead me to believe they’re open-minded, critical thinking individuals. I think that those people who the editorial addresses are not likely to read it. Those few who do will most likely defend Trump and jump into the bothsiderism which plagues the NYTimes and many other mass media outlets, accusing Democrats and President Biden of being worse than Trump.

Just read the comments on the editorial and you’ll see.

Despite my criticisms of the NYTimes, I am happy to see the editorial, as it validates my impressions of Trump as lawless, and not the primary enforcer of the law which this nation needs. Though it addresses people who will disregard their advice, the rest of agree, it needed to be said.

Yes, it’s all complex, isn’t it?

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: entrapped

Started the morning like it felt like spring had spring. Although just 40 F, that spring balminess – spriminess — enveloped my area of Ashlandia, where a river runs through it. This is today, by the way, Thursday, Jan. 18, 2024. It’s now 54 F, though rain has been falling from a swollen gray cloud that hovers over us like it’s hiding a giant alien spaceship.

My day was compromised by the need to be socially responsible and help some friends out. They of the removed gall bladder and limited mobility and freedom previously written of needed grocery shopping done, so we did so. That hoovered up the morning and early afternoon. Delivering the purchases, we then visited with them and emptied the dishwasher, putting those items away as weren’t able to do that for themselves.

I feel for them, though, really and truly. Besides her surgery, she has macular degeneration in her eyes and can barely squint through the day. She recounted being in the hospital unable to work the television remote because she didn’t know what was what. I don’t know why she couldn’t figure that out by trial and error, hit and miss. I suspect she didn’t think of it. BTW, she showed us some of the marbles that were the gallstones removed from her. She informed us that the six we saw were just a small sampling of what’d been removed.

Meanwhile, Mom had another bad fall at her house. Nothing broken but some bruises, contusions, and bleeding. Happened while she was trying to make it to the comode. All this evidence of aging and mortality is deflating. The thing is, I take notes about what happens to them so I’m more prepared, in case they happen to me. But the other thing about aging is that it’s such a personal matter and your experience — what you do and don’t suffer and wha I go through — will be generally the same and unique different.

Today’s song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark delusional) was “Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio from 1995. Reading and thinking about Trump and his family and the people who support him inspired The Neurons to play this song. The Neurons began with the lines, “Power and the money, money and the power, minute after minute, hour after hour. Everybody’s runnin’, but half of them ain’t lookin’.” That’s basically what I see in many ways when I see TFG leading the GOP.

Stay as positive as you can while testing negative, staying strong, and leaning forward. Coffee is done for the day. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

He was busy typing at the coffee shop when a young woman approached. He’d been observing her as part of everyone in his orbit, just tracking people and their behavior, wary of anyone becoming a threat. Call it habit or training, it remained as a leftover from his military career.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but I have what probably will sound like a strange question.”

“Why are you bothering me?” he bellowed. No, not really; instead, he said, still typing, “Yes?”

“I need to go back out to my car because I forgot something, but I want to save this table.”

“So?” he roared. “What’s this to do with me, you puny human?” But he didn’t do that. He just tilted his head and typed.

“So I was wondering if I might borrow your hat to put on this table to save it.”

“How dare you disturb me with such insolence. No, you may not have my hat,” he retorted. “Don’t touch it.”

In reality, he kept typing, nodded once, and answered, “Yes, go ahead.”

He was still typing when she returned ten minutes later. Moving his hat from the saved table to his location, she said, “Thank you.”

Continuing to type, he replied, “You’re welcome.”

Then she went off to a different table.

He stopped table and watched, wondering, why did she change tables?

Was it something he said?

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: peckish

Gray marble day on this Wednesday, January 17, 2024 in Ashlandia, where the fishing is swell and the biking is above average. Temperature is 44 F. High will be 51 F. Rain is expected. We’re again dodging the severe weather hitting most of Oregon. Knock wood. Hope everyone stays safe and warm where the gnarly weather crashes in.

My friends diverted my morning plans. One went into the hospital to have her gall bladder removed. She’s sore but recovering in hospital. Her spouse is elderly — what we call the oldest old zone, or OOZ — and lives at home but has multiple health issues which have curtailed his independence. He’s still mentally willing and able; it’s just his body, specifically his lungs, skin, and muscles, declaring, nope, not today. Anyway, while she is in the hospital going through her surgery and recovery, he lost his Charter Spectrum net connection due to weather. The outage ended but his net connection returned not. So I went and hooked him back up and took care of some small matters for him.

Put me behind on the writing day, though, which severely displeased the musi (yes, that’s my plural for muses, just FYI). (I know, using musi engendered more typing and reading.) Then, just like yesterday, no room at the coffee shops. There’s a huge new demand for coffee and many patrons are then sitting with computers, like they’re writing or working or something. I guess I must suffer for my art. I also guess that I may need to move up my work hours and get out of the house and into the coffee place earlier.

“Werewolves of London” by Warren Zevon from 1978 is filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark spent). This song started out as a dedication to Tucker sitting on my lap. I frequently sing songs to my cats, who stare back in flat displeasure that I’m assaulting their ears and minds with these silly offerings. My version for Tucker was “Werefloofs of Ashlandia”. It numbers among my favorite floof songs. Getting more particular, I also sing, “Orange Boy”, for Papi, which goes, “Orange boy, orange boy, whatcha gonna do when they come for you,” and the theme song to a cartoon series from last century, “Underdog”. Of course, I sing it for the underfloofs, but the words need little changing: “Speed of lightning, meow of thunder, pawing all for their own plunder, Underfloof, Underfloof.”

Stay pos, test negative, be strong, and lean forward. I’m trying to do the same but sometimes trying is tryin’. Coffee has been consumed but I’m afraid more is needed. Heres’ the music. Cheers

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The Writing Moment

One important matter that many new writers overlook is, what does their muse want?

The muse can fill a critical function in the fiction writin’ process, so identifying them and learning what they like — and DISLIKE — can be a significant component of your personal process. Sometimes, as it is for me, it’s more than one muse, so the aspiring writer must pay attention to who the muses are and what they do. Fer ‘nstance, my muses love coffee. Don’t try to pawn tea or chai off on ‘em; they’ll inform you with seething disgust that they’re not the same. However, some of the muses are more impatient and arrogant than the others. Some of them read someone else’s fiction and immediately scream into my ear, “Write something like that!” I’m always coping with them doing that. The way I do so, with more patience and caution that touching a sleeping cat’s belly, is to gently promise I will write something like that after I finish this (whatever this is) and hope they accept and quiet down.

BTW, don’t try to overlook the grammar and punctuation muses. They can be wrong but they will push and push for a decision about a comma, period, tense, noun, verb, and so on, until they’re satisfied (at least for the moment).

My muses are not fond of writing at home, cuz cats, spouse, phone – well, environmental distractions. (Yeah, we still have a home phone, althought it’s VOIP.) My muses like it in a noisy coffee shop where nobody pays attention to them and they can write in peace surrounded by people bustling around on their business. As I have multiple muses (sometimes called musi in the more traditional plural spelling) (yeah, just kiddin’ ‘bout that), I need to ensure the right one shows up on time. Little is worse for me than entering a revision session only to have a ‘new project’ muse enter to help, suggesting the concept for a new novel, novella, short story, movie, song, play, or essay.

Last, my musi demand time and focus on them everyday. If they don’t get it, they spoon crankiness, exasperation, and irritation into my mood. So, every day, no matter what’s happenin’, they want me to sit and write or edit. They don’t care if zombies are overrunning the neighborhood, a blizzard is underway, or nukes are falling. Nor is being hungry, sick, or social engagements a concern for ’em. They want their writing or editing time. And don’t think that research is good enough for the muse. I’ve tried mollifying them with research; my muses don’t buy it and will sometimes go off and sulk, leaving me without a muse to write. I can do it, but it’s a bit like having problems with a bowel movement.

Now, back to writing. So sayeth the muse what’s in charge.

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Mileage

My floofy, Tucker, is a mix of long and short black and white fur. Thought a passionate and diligent groomer, he easily mats, so I have a routine of brushing him every night, which he loves, of course: the attention, the brush, oh, the purrs.

Despite all that, he frequently drops clumps of fur as he walks around the house. Watching him ten a dozen steps, I discovered three clumps of fur left on the floor behind him.

Poor thing. Only gets four steps per clump, but he’s a big boi. Your floof’s mileage will vary.

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