Category: movies

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: temperate

It’s another Friday. This one is December 13, 2024, which triggers some, especially if they’re Knights Templars. But I’m not one and I’m not bothered by the date. Except, there’s less than two weeks until Christmas, if that’s your celebrating avenue. More importantly, the end is near — the end of the year, that is.

Today’s white blob of a sky blends in over the mountain and tree tops, fuzzying our edges and spitting on the eastern windows. Temperature is 42 F and as with yesterday, we’re just four degrees of separation from our high. Unlike yesterday, which morphed into a pleasant autumn day with wintry overtones, a brisk wind is moaning the blues, prompting a high-wind advisory.

Papi the ginger blade despairs of this wind. He beat at the door as soon as it rose. Fattened by brekkie and at least floofmentarily aware of the wind, he’s stretched out in the living room, a pretty orange and white furry binkie.

Several politically-connected matters caught my eye. One, Andy Borowitz put his humorous spin on Hegseth as Drumpf’s nominee to head Defense: “Hegseth Offers to Connect Breathalyzer to Nuclear Arsenal”. Feels hysterically funny because there’s too much truth in it. The second item was one pointed out by on Scottie’s Playground: Study: Republicans Respond to Political Polarization by Spreading Misinformation, Democrats Don’t. Some of us reacted, yes, and water tends to be wet. To see it hardwired as actual study results is satisfying because it underscores our observations that the modern American right wing can’t handle the truth and make shit up.

Finally, also out of Scottie’s Playground, is a tale of Not Good News in Florida. “Earlier this fall, Florida officials ordered transgender women in the state’s prisons to submit to breast exams. As part of a new policy for people with gender dysphoria, prison medical staff ranked the women’s breast size using a scale designed for adolescents. Those whose breasts were deemed big enough were allowed to keep their bras. Everyone else had to surrender theirs, along with anything else considered “female,” such as women’s underwear and toiletry items.”

Yes, we know that besides making shit up when they feel threatened, American Republicans tend to become crueler and treat others who aren’t like them with greater contempt and inhumanity. They’re such a misguided, fact-aversion, hate-filled, group of lying fantasists. If we had greater involvement and better critical thinking from more voting-age Americans, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But a large swath of indifference and lethargy has given power to fools, and all of us will suffer.

I have a weird song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark dated). “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter” originally came out in 1935, twenty-one years before my birth. It’s literally been around all my life and then some. The Neurons inserted it into the mmms after a dream in which I wrote myself a letter and then mailed it. A busy dream night, all I remember of that dream is that I as a young teen wrote myself a letter and posted it on a sunny day. Then this song begun. It’s been covered by two and a half gazillion performers. I have females and males singing it in the mmms because this was one of those songs Mom often played on her stereo hi-fi, and she sang along to it. I just surfed the net for a version which I like. Hope you know the song and like it. So here’s the late Jeff Healey with his cover. Jeff Healey and his band were in the movie Road House staring Patrick Swayze, Sam Elliott, Kelly Lynch, and Ben Gazzara in 1989.

Rain is spitting on the western windows now, and the wind’s mutterings have turned louder, angrier, and more prolonged. Coffee and I have made our daily agreement. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Politicynicsm

It’s an autner morning with winter impression holding a slight edge. A freezing cold night was had with temperatures lowering to 18 F around my place. I know that’s not so cold in many places; I’ve lived in a few of them. But that’s chill for us.

Since dawn, the sun put the hammer to the temps. We’re into the low thirties now. The splash dab white crystals decorating the greenery is giving way as the sun’s fingers stroke the land into warmth. A high of 56 F is contemplated, with clouds, blue skies, and sunshine.

This is Sa’day, November 30, 2024, the last day of the year’s eleventh month. Just one more for the historic records and we’ll put 2024 to bed.

Keeping Papi the ginger blade in and safe from icy temperatures was a big challenge for us. He gave me his patented cheetah stare whenever I told him no.

Note: this is not Papi. Papi looks nothing like this, except for that staring, judging expression.

But we were successful without too much floofma. Now he is up and up, patrolling and sniffing to see who floofpassed on his realm while he was suffering the indignation of being kept warm and safe.

Been thinking about the Trump presidency and how it’s going down. He and his teams have not signed the transition docs. Therefore, no transition can begin. But, he’ll be sworn in on 1/20/25, won’t he? And then he’ll be POTUS. And then he’ll say, “Fuck those documents. I don’t need to sign shit. I’m the president.” SCOTUS has already established that these things he does as POTUS aren’t illegal, so… I’m sure the Senate will go into a legislative tantrum but the reality is, what will they do? Are the oaths really needed? Not in Trump’s newly minted prezzy immunity. Prezmunity.

Yes, feeling cynical this morning. But that’s the battle and potential outcome I see brewing. Of course, I’m crap at these predictions so I wouldn’t put any money on it.

Hmm…is Vegas laying odds on it? That would seem appropriate. Electing a proven con, liar, incompetent wanna-be dictator and fascist is a gamble…

Oh, wait. I see that he has signed some of the docs now. Sorry, been avoiding the news cycle. That’ll teach me.

So last night, I bit into a Kind drizzle bar. Off came part of one molar. Had to laugh. Just fits in so well with this year’s progression of events. My wife has been claiming that I’m held together by bubblegum and tape. Looks like it’s all coming apart.

I originally had songs about ice or white in the morning mental music stream (Trademark frozen). Ya know, things like “Cold as Ice” and “Ice Ice Baby”. “White Wedding” and “Nights in White Satin”. “Whiter Shade of Pale”. But The Neurons used their veto-override and inserted “Take My Breath Away”. The song was a creation for the Top Gun movie a zillion and two years ago. Berlin, an American new wave musical group, performed it for the movie and achieved a respectable hit for it.

I asked The Neurons, why this? They smugly deigned to voice an answer. But it’s in the stream, so I’m forced to share it to get it out. Kind of a tedious song to me. I mean, I admire the singer’s talents and the band’s skills, and respect the songwriters. Just not my cuppa. I’m low on the romance scale, though, so don’t judge it by my impressions. Listen for yourself.

Try to be positive. I grok that’s an easy expression to state but hard to manifest at times. Do your best, right? I will, too. Aided by coffee, the positivity function is stirring anew. Here we go, another day in 2024. Here’s the music from 1986 to take you there. Cheers

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Flooftet

Flooftet (floofinition) – Small group of animals of different species, sizes, and ages. A flooftet is considered more than two but less than nine. Origins: Internet, circa 2015.

In Use: “When Maria entered the living room, she discovered a flooftet looking at her. The bird and rabbit seemed floofchalant, but the cats and dogs wore guilty expressions, as if she’d caught them plotting.”

In Use: “Movies about flooftets, such as Homeward Bound: the Incredible Journey from 1993, often attract audiences who enjoy warm and humorous adventure romps starring animals.”

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I have a nephew who is starting at the University of Pittsburgh this fall. He auditioned for the band as a trumpet player and was accepted, so he’s already moved into his dorm room so he can attend band camp. Yes, I am pleased and excited on his behalf, and I’m very proud of him.

Today, we found out that one of our friends here in Ashlandia has a niece starting college. Know where this is going? Yes, she’s attending the University of Pittsburgh. And she plays the trumpet. And she’s in the band. And she’s moved into her dorm room already because she’s attending band camp.

It’s like six degrees of separation all over again. Do you know the movie?

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

On a whim, I looked up an old film, Kelly’s Heroes. A tale of American soldiers in WWII and their efforts to steal NAZI gold from a French bank behind German lines, it starred Clint Eastwood, Telly Savalas, Carroll O’Connor, and Donald Sutherland, with several other names in supporting roles. While it was released in 1970, it was based on a Guiness Book of World Records entry on ‘the greatest train robbery’ in history. The 1984 book, Nazi Gold — The Sensational Story of the World’s Greatest Robbery — and the Greatest Criminal Cover-Up by Ian Sayer and Douglas Botting, tells the whole story.

I never knew. And now I do.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Raintertained

A light rain falls in some Ashlandia neighborhoods, where the traffic is light and the pace is slow. Petrichor’s smells ease into my nose and raise my spirits. Love that smell. Reminds of everything and everywhere and nothing and nowhere. Goes well with my black coffee’s bright, sharp scent.

Glad to report that Tucker continues his comeback. He’s gained weight and energy, and has become more talkative.

That all took Papi by surprise. Unaware of Tucker’s improving health and increasing energy, Papi pranced up to Tucker and indulged in a sniff.

Whipping around like a startled cougar, Tucker snapped out a left paw, just missing Papi as the latter jumped back, snapping, “Meowww!” I think “Meowww” meant, “Whoa, dude, chill, I was just smelling you. Didn’t mean to offend you. My bad.”

Floofish is an economical language.

Today’s music comes by way of a song. Sounds silly but listen up. As I went about my morning, I was suddenly hearing “There Is Nothin’ Like A Dame” from the musical, South Pacific, in my morning mental music stream (Trademark staged).

Hearing it, I queried of The Neurons why that song was playing. Those cheeky monkeys responded with The Eagles singing, “I Can’t Tell You Why” from 1979.

So that’s where I’m at. Stay pos, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Agreeing with Trump’s Campaign

Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think? A little too ironic.

Rolling Stone rolled out a story about a new film that features Donald Trump. The article begins,

After the film The Apprentice debuted at the Cannes Film Festival on Monday, the Trump Campaign threatened to sue over the controversial depiction of the ex-president during his early days in real estate and his marriage to his first wife, Ivana.

Among scenes of Trump taking amphetamine pills and getting liposuction, Variety reported that the movie included a disturbing scene of the former president throwing Ivana to the floor and having nonconsensual sex with her. The outlet said a female attendee at the premiere referred to it as “rape,” while another agreed and said it was a disturbing sexual assault.

That beginning seized my attention. Reading on is where it became so Alanis Morrisette ironic:

“We will be filing a lawsuit to address the blatantly false assertions from these pretend filmmakers. This garbage is pure fiction which sensationalizes lies that have been long debunked. As with the illegal Biden Trials, this is election interference by Hollywood elites, who know that President Trump will retake the White House and beat their candidate of choice because nothing they have done has worked,” Trump campaign’s communications director Steven Cheung said in a statement to Rolling Stone.

Whoa, whoa, whoa – the Trump campaign is upset about blatantly false assertions? Garbage that’s been thoroughly debunked?

Gosh, we’re with you on that! Would that include assertions which have been thoroughly debunked like that the 2024 election was stolen, an assertion without any facts supporting it whatsoever? That the kind of assertions which have you upset, Mr Trump Campaign?

What about blatantly false assertions that have been thoroughly debunked like the US economy did so much better under DJ Trump?

Let’s thrown in that hilariously debunked assertion that Trump is 6 foot 3 and weighs a svelte 215 pounds?

Are you saying, Mr Trump’s Campaign, that you don’t like it when thoroughly debunked bullshit is substituted for truth?

Then you know how the rest of us feel about you and your campaign at this point. You must surely know how sick and tired we are of hearing about these debunked lies that you keep spouting as truths.

And just as you want these ‘thoroughly debunked assertions’ stopped, so…do…we.

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Floofcast

Floofcast (floofinition) – 1. A production about an animal available to the public for entertainment or informational purposes. The production may be posted to the net on social media or presented via cable or satellite communications.

In Use: “Many social media users end up creating and sharing interesting or amusing floofcasts about their pets or rescues and share them on the net, such as Owl Kitty.”

2. An advisory from an animal that something is on the verge of happening.

In Use: “At 9:03 AM one Sunday morning, Sandi’s dog leaped up and urgently barked. Then he grabbed Sandi’s hand and lead her to another room. An instant later, a large tree crashed into the room where Sandi had been sitting. If not for Barkley’s floofcast, Sandi may have been injured or killed.”

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeemistic

I’m ensconced in Penn Hills, PA, an eastern suburb of Pittsburgh, visiting family. A light rain is scenting the 64 F air with petrichor. Temp should peak at 67 F.

Weirdly, the weather seems ‘right’ to me. I emerged from my cocoon in this area and first spread my wings. Lived with Mom and grandparents when I was a child not going to school, moved away in conjunction with Dad’s military service, then returned here. Attended school in several small burghs for second grade through my high school sophomore year. Since Mom and a buncha extended family live here, I’ve been returning again and again on my own cycadean rhythm.

Tragically, Mom only serves decaf. She and her man only drink decaf. So, they make a big pot of coffee. Once it’s done brewing, they draw from it for days and doctor it with cream and nuke it in the microwave. Gag gag gag.

So I slipped away for coffee and writing, heading for a Starbucks. That works for Mother and I and the general household, since Mom and her BF sleep in late these days. She said she doesn’t emerge from her nocturnal seclusion until almost noon. Then her BF, already dressed, ensures she’s set up for the afternoon, and goes out on his errands. His first stop is the gym, where this former boxer, now in his early nineties, works out.

The Starbucks was chosen because it’s where my niece and her boyfriend work. Both are college grads with bachelor’s degrees. Her’s is in business administration. She speaks several languages and plays the violin and is still attending college, going into software and database administration.

So guess who served me? Yes, she looked up with widening eyes when I said, “Morning, Amy.” I hope to have more of a visit with her than that, of course.

Amy and I have a running joke from when she was a child. There’s a movie called The Mothman Prophecies which came out in 2002. It’s about a bridge collapse in Weirton, WV, and a mothman warning it was gonna happy. A brother-in-law (not Amy’s father) saw the movie while traveling in West Virginia. It freaked him out because after watching the movie, his hotel room phone began ringing, just like in the movie. He and I and Amy talked about it in subsequent years. I began calling her Mothgirl. She dubbed me Mothman.

Today’s music arrives via a conversation about me living on the west coast. Everyone hearing hat immediately asks, “California?” No, I’m from the Pacific Northwest, Oregon, to add more precision, Ashlandia, to get granular. But the California suggestions kicked The Neurons into filling the morning mental music stream (Trademark with “Californication”. The Red Hot Chili Peppers released the song in 1999. I immediately took to it. It’s a drool commentary about how Hollywood sells California as the place to be. Several little plays on pop culture are woven into the song.

On to the day. Stay strong, be positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. Cheers from Pennsylvania.

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