Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Got a question for y’all: what is this ‘X’ thing I keep seeing? Anyone know?
Also, whatever happened to ‘Twitter’?
Yes, some holiday snark because everyone in the media keeps adding, “X, formerly Twitter.” Like we haven’t gotten it by now. I guess they’re still trying to cope with the change and put it up to remind themselves.
And yes, I did post about X and Twitter before in a similar vein. And no, I’m not obsessed with it. Not officially. Not yet.
Mood: spirited
T’was the day before Christmas and all across the land
few people were thinking that everything was grand
those with money to spend had brought presents to no end
while those lacking food and shelter did what they could do
Yes, today is Sunday, December 24, 2023, the day before Christmas in the US. Light rain intermittently douses us in wintery 43 F temps under a dystopian dim sun stuck behind the clouds. It’s today’s high, already achieved, so we have that going for us in Ashlandia, where the Christmas decorations are average and the Kwanza and Hannukah celebrations are muted.
I found myself with the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s 2006 cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark gifted). Those first lyrics that include soldiers keep on warrin’ was in my mind during this holiday month, when so many people talk about peace on Earth and goodwill toward man while doing the opposite so often. Few walk the talk. They’re just depressin’ damn people, especially the faux christians who have emerged.
Let’s just call them faustians, which is really similiar to faustian, isn’t it? Interesting; those faustians (faux christians) focus on themselves, complaining about how overlooked and put upon they are, which, in their words, is terrible because they have the best religion and god. Meanwhile, faustian is an adjective to describe things often done for present gain without any thought about the future, which is exactly what the faustians (faux christians) do; they want to go back to some faux good ol’ days when women knew their place and it was in the house, and there were only two genders and one sexual orientation – male on female – and men were in charge, and all bad things like racism, bigotry, and discrimination were all swept into places where it couldn’t be seen. They didn’t want to hear about women being raped (because they probably deserved it anyway, in their minds, because of how they dressed or acted). Nor did they want to know about people born with a mix of gene sets that creates a spectrum of true and viable genders. God only created two genders, darn it, and science is bad because it teaches otherwise, so don’t trust it.
Factories were in America and all things were made in America, because it was and is and always will be the greatest nation in the world (because, god), and the houses were all the same clean cottages behind fine white picket fences, except for the wealthy but noble and pious people who lived in mansions on the hill, away from the riff raff. To achieve their goals, faustians will lie and pretend their leaders are wonderful people, overlooking or even rationalizing their crimes, and go to war to make peace, because they believe in god, and that makes everything that they do okay. Diversity is not good in the faustian world. Nor is critical thinking.
Anyway, that’s why I’m playing “Higher Ground”.
Stay pos, be strong, and keep leaning forward toward a higher ground. Coffee drinking is underway. Here’s the music. Cheers
Since retiring from the military in the 1990s, I’ve had health insurance through various Tricare programs, which replaced CHAMPUS. Most recently, my coverage was mandated to be Tricare for Life. It worked well. Of course, to continue using TFL, I was required to sign up for and start paying for Medicare once I became 65 years of age, which happened two years ago. This is a vein of the product called ‘Tricare for Life Medicare’.
I was recently hit with a bill for lab work done earlier this year. The lab bill was $300 and I had to pay $108 of that.
That surprised me. Investigating my benefits, I found that Medicare paid part. I thought TFL would cover the rest, but no; Tricare for Life Medicare doesn’t cover preventative lab work, only such work for life-threatening issues.
After a life of being pushed to be proactive and take preventative measures to find and treat health conditions in early stages, it seems like an odd turn of coverage. Makes me re-think what they were thinking when they called the program ‘Tricare for Life’.
Mood: it’s a Wordle kind of day
Today is Tuesday, Dec 19, 2023. Just two days till December 21, when winter solstice in the north and summer solstice down below the equator, arrives. Up here we’re counting down to the ‘shortest day of the year’ as so many glibly phrase it. It means we’ll have the shortest period of sun exposure. But solstice is a few days later in Ashlandia; December 21 is an average. Our shortest day lands seven about a week later.
It’s been a really mild winter so far. Today it’s 55 F and rainy. Although indicators say this will continue, weather can change faster than a floof runs to get a treat. But no snow is bad news for the summer, as we depend on our melting mountain snow packs to keep filling our cisterns and reservoirs. So, fingers crossed, snow will come.
Been thinking about inflation. I’m a Paul Krugman fan. Been reading him for decades. But he’s insisting that inflation has gone down but mentions that people like me think it hasn’t because we’re paying more for things than we used to. Paul says the economy is actually good, and President Biden is getting a bad rap over it.
I won’t go into the variations of inflation that exist or how they track it. For me, it comes down to paying much more for car and house insurance than before, higher rates for my water, service fees, home gas and electricity, cat food, and much more for gas for my car. We buy organic and jeez have those prices jumped. Eating out gives me sticker shock almost every time, and beer, wine, and coffee also all cost more, definitely discretionary purchases but, hey, it’s all part of my life style.
Then, housing. Wow. I’ve been considering a move to another part of the nation. Housing is part of the equation to learn where we’ll drop. They’ve always talked about how expensive California housing is, and some parts of Oregon, but looking through New England prices has me reaching for sedatives to calm my nerves. Pennsylvania and Ohio prices are lower than Ashlandia, and more house can be acquired there, but not in New England. There’s also a huge rise in the number of condos and town homes being built. I don’t want to live in either of those because I’ve done it before and I dislike dealing with management over what I can or can’t do with my domicile. There are enough layers or law that I don’t need another layer, especially one that I pay for through things like HOAs. No thanks.
Had to get that off my chest.
Shifting gears to music, I had “Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead” pinging around the morning mental music stream (Trademark unverified) for a while this morning. That’s ‘cuz we saw The Wizard of Oz on Sunday and my wife decided to walk around the house singing about the witch’s death this morning. With less than an eyeblink, The Neurons had it playing over and over and over in my head. I think that kind of thing can drive one insane.
But then I began reading the news and something, something, once again, said or done in the name of god and Jesus to justify being cruel or empty headed was read. I don’t know if it was about the hypocritical Zieglers in Florida, or Trump and the Evanges, or Ohio’s Attorney General, or the Pope, or the AG of Texas or some crap out of the Moms of Liberty. They all stay in the news with their twisted logic about God, religion, and our nation and laws.
Out of that morass of misinformation and misogyny, The Neurons came up with Joan Osborne’s hit song of 1992, “One of Us”. This is a song about god being a slob like one of us, living a life like average humans, riding the bus, going home.
An enticing, intriguing idea. What if the crazy dude talking to himself in the corner is god? Or that women behind the counter with all the piercings is god? What if all these people that go around, trying and struggling, or at home, baking for a holiday, or drinking alone in a house at night while watching some rerun are god? No magic or power, no all-knowing, no one any more or less special than a person walking by you? Strong medicine for the mind to contemplate.
Stay pos, be strong, lean forward, and press on. Coffee is being consumed by the cup here. Here’s the music. Cheers
Forty-one holiday bowl games are coming up in the next several weeks.
I live in Oregon. I’ve quasi-adopted the two major colleges’ sports team. More like surrendered than adopted, as the colleges and their sports teams are frequent news and conversation topics. Both college football teams are ‘ranked’ this year and will play in bowl games.
The names of these bowl games are psyche shredding. The Oregon State Beavers face Notre Dame in the Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl. Seriously.
Oregon University’s Ducks will play Liberty in the VRBO Fiesta Bowl.
You should check out the names of these corporate sponsored NCAA college football bowl games. Remember, this is about amateur sports. Among them is the Cricket Celebration Bowl in the Mercedes Benz Stadium. Avocados from Mexico Cure Bowl. Famous Toastery Bowl. Roofclaim.com Boca Raton Bowl.
I wonder how many years it’ll be before the teams have corporate sponsors. I’m sure many will watch the Nike Oregon University Ducks vs the Eli Lilly Fighting Irish of Notre Dame in the VRBO Fiesta Bowl or maybe, instead, the Columbia Sportswear Company Oregon State Beavers (sometimes just called the Columbia Beavers) against Freddie Mac Liberty University in the the Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl.
I don’t plan to watch any of them.
I had a terrific workout this morning, focusing on balance, coordination, strength, and flexibility — and successfully got my underwear on. Damn things seem to have a mind of their own and mos def did not want to be near my body.
I empathize with them.
I asked my wife this morning, “Do you know the song, ‘Walk Right In’?”
Nodding, she sang the first verse and then asked, “Is it your ear worm today.”
“Yes. Do you remember any more lyrics?”
Mumbling through the melody, she laughed. “No.”
I sang her the song to remind her. She sort of shrugged me off.
Encountering her in the kitchen thirty minutes later as I was getting ready to leave the house, she said, “Well, your evil plan worked.”
Laughing, I sang, “Walk right in.”
She glumly nodded. “It’s stuck in my head.” Walking past me, she hit my arm.
I just laughed more.
I’d noticed time and again how far back some people stop behind other cars at traffic lights. It surprises me to see a vehicle three to four car lengths behind the one in front of them. My wife always suggested that maybe something happened to them, and I agree; people carry baggage even as drivers. The things which happen to us often shape our behavior. Driving isn’t different. I recently learned about one driver and why she stops so far back.
My wife mentioned to her coffee group that I always wonder about it. A friend responded, “Well, he’d be wondering about me.” She then told a story about a serious traffic accident. She and the passenger barely survived. It was all about icy country roads on a snowy day and a car unable to stop behind them, pushing them forward and off an embankment into a ravine.
See, I still don’t understand why she would stop so far back when it was a car hitting her from behind that caused the issue, with exigent circumstances influencing the situation.
But I recognize that I’m trying to apply logic to what is emotional for her. In the end, I remind myself, what difference does it make how far back she stops? It bothers me on an intellectual level, but that’s my problem.
Michael Seidel, writer 