Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofrolling (floofinition) – A prank involving an unexpected appearance of an animal video. Victims believing that they are accessing some unrelated material, click on a disguised hyperlink in a classic bait and switch ploy that leads to the animal video.
In use: “Inspired by rickolling, an internet phenomenon that emerged in 2007, floofrolling soon took over as a popular means to prank people.”
Song from 1969 is rambling through my head. (Guess it’s Throwback Thursday.) (This is Thursday, innit? Days are sort of bleeding together with a lovely melange of rain, sun, and night.)
“Good Times, Bad Times” by Led Zeppelin is cranking through the stream? Why? Because it can. But I think it sorta works for these P.D. (pandemic days, or pandays, if you must). “Good times, bad times, you know I’ve seen my share.” Plant sings it so much better than me, according to my cats. But then, they’re very critical by nature. They’re like, “Stop singing. Feed me. Stop moving. Let me sleep on your lap. What’re you doing? Where you going? Get back here. Don’t close that door. Hey, what’re you doing? What’s going on behind that door? Let me in! Let me in!”
Have a friend who has tested positive for COVID-19.
She the first friend that has confirmed she’s tested positive. I have third hand tales that a group of friends I sometimes hang out with had two people test positive.
My friend is traveler, visiting Africa, Europe, Japan, and other parts of the U.S. this year. Retired, she enjoys being active and seeing the world. After returning from her latest trip (to Arizona), she experienced symptoms that were listed as possible signs of COVID-19; besides that, she’d been with someone else before that exhibiting the signs.
So, she decided to go into isolation and get tested.
Deciding to get tested was one thing; actually getting tested required days of telephone calls and insistence that she be tested. After being tested at a drive through testing center, she remained in isolation while awaiting the results. Receiving the results took more days of telephone calls and emails. Ten days later, they confirmed what she suspected.
Although she’s over seventy, her symptoms weren’t too severe. The worse part was the dry cough, she said. It felt like her ribs were being torn apart on some days. Mended now, eight weeks later, she considers herself lucky.
Meanwhile, as nobody else seemed interested, she conducted her own tracing program and notified others she’d been with. Of the seven that she notified, six tested positive for COVID-19. The seventh didn’t want to be tested. He was showing numerous symptoms but refused to be tested. Coincidentally — and it must only be a coincidence — he’s a Republican and Trump supporter.
And that first person? Yes, he tested positive for COVID-19. Like her, the worse that he experienced was the dry, hard cough.
That is all.
Went out shopping yesterday, Trader Joe’s and Costco in Medford, OR. We were masked up. We heard it wasn’t bad…
They were wrong.
Costco won’t allow entrance unless you have a mask ‘on’. Everyone wore a mask, but not properly. Several had the mask down below their nose and/or mouths. The store has signs up about keeping social distance, and people around with signs. Signs won’t ever deter the ignorant or self-absorbed. Those who ‘know better’ don’t give a shit about signs. Frustrating Costco experience.
It was bliss compared to Trader Joe’s.
TJ’s controlled entrance; one shopping unit out, one group in. Separation was begun on the sidewalk outside. Tape marked off six feet segments.
Most folks outside were not wearing a mask. Why wear a mask? They’re outside. The man in front of us was eating a sandwich. That seems safe.
Inside the store, about three-quarters were masked. Not all of them practiced six-feet of SD; either they didn’t care, were self-absorbed and didn’t notice, or thought all of this was trumpshit (you could see that by their actions).
Yeah, it pissed me off, but I remembered people. Doing the right thing is hard. It requires mindfulness, practice, and patience. Few U.S. citizens are ever accused of being those three things.
Finally, worse though, in both stores, were the employees. Focused on work, they frequently blew through the idea of being six feet apart.
I can only imagine the shit that they’re saying about me at home. I was a senior NCO in the military. My eyes can express a great deal of anger and contempt when it finds its way in me. Yeah, I’m not a patient and tolerant person, especially when I think someone is being stupid.
As an addendum to the whole thing, groups are organizing together in freedom rallies. What cracked me up is that they said, “a military mindset” must be used. A ‘military mindset’ to me means order, structure, discipline. It means listening to your intelligence in the sense of the experts who gather and analyze data. It does not mean asserting your will to do something else in the face of the intell provided.
From all of this, a fave song by The Offspring jumped into the stream. From 1994, here’s “Come Out and Play”. Obviously, it’s chosen for the line repeatedly employed, “You gotta keep them separated.”
By the way, our county had been steadily reporting no new cases. We went ten days, I think. But guess what? New cases of testing positive are being reported.
Gosh, I wonder why?
Trump’s comments about people dying were infuriating to hear. He couldn’t do anything about it. So powerless, isn’t he?
Yeah, infuriating. Watching him, thinking about that, and remembering children in cages, and the way he seems to think — certainly the way he acts in general — an old Foreigner song, “Cold As Ice” (1977), came into my mental music stream.
Not like the COVID-19 deaths (or the children in cages) is the first time he’s demonstrated a lack of empathy. Remember his call to the family of the U.S. soldier killed? “He knew what he was getting into.” Jesus wept. There’s also the lack of caring demonstrated in dealing with Puerto Rico and their issues. Unless it’s about him (and his numbers) or, lordy, the economy, he just doesn’t give a shit, demonstrating nothing but contempt, anger, and hatred as far as emotions go.
Yep, cold as ice. He’s willing to sacrifice anything to make himself look good.
To begin, I’ve parked my car on a road by a small, rocky but sandy beach. Others are there. Someone says, “Look.” They’re pointing.
I turn and look. A large whale is being washed up onto the shore. A man is down there trying to wrestle it into place, an impossible idea. But past that, huge waves are rising and rushing toward us.
I say, “Oh my god, look at those waves.”
The first guy says, “That’s what I was talking about.”
I reply, “Run,” and start running along the beach.
Enormous waves crash behind us. Water is swirling back there. We’ve escaped. We’re on the move and still in danger. I’m with two others, males. They’re friends and younger. “We gotta go,” I say. “We need to get away from here.”
We find a rusted and repainted (gray and white) panel van. I start it and drive away. We drive and drive through the night. The van has a bench seat and no rear seats. It’s empty. The gas gauge is broken. We’re driving parallel to the ocean. Huge waves are crashing. The sea is rising. We need to go until we can turn inland.
I feel like we need gas. Finding a station open, we stop. I have forty dollars. That’s all the money between us. We’re hungry. But — I have a credit card. I talk to the attendant. I’m surprised but relieved he was open. Yes, but not for much longer, he tells me. We’re probably his last customers. I ask if I can pay with a credit card. Yes, he replies, leading me to another man. He’ll take care of us.
We eat and buy supplies, paying with gas. We’re exhausted. We talk about sleeping in the back of the van. Then, I have an idea: let’s go back in time so we can warn people. My friends like that, so that’s what we do.
We arrive at an air force base. I’m in uniform. One of the guys wants to attend a service. He’d died before; this service was for him. He wanted a chance to say good-bye to himself.
So we agree to wait for him while this happens. As I’m standing there, a U.S. flag is ceremoniously folded and handed it to me. I accept it with proper protocol and then give it to another. That was my part.
We go into a briefing room. It’s more like a theater. An officer friend is briefing about a weapon failure. I know what happened because it’d already happened. I push to the front and tell them what happened and convince them that I know the future because I came back from them. I warn them about the growing storm and the need to take action.
The dream ends.
Went with “The Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats, 1982. Odd choice for this song, I think. It was a protest against the establishment. Yet, to me, you can dance at home in safety, if you wanna, instead of giving in to irrational exuberance that the worse is over and we’re all free to go shopping and dining in restaurants. I know it’s tough, made harder when you’re bored and frustrated, worried about your cash, your health, and your life.
Take a little time to dance and sing “The Safety Dance”.
Lots of science-y info has been in the news recently. An argument that started in the last century continues as people claim that the science behind climate change and human influence on it is wrong! That’s not why the glaciers are melting! They’ve always been melting, and the sea is not rising, and you’re not allowed to say, ‘climate change’ in some states because it’s fake science! Meanwhile, scientists tracked an asteroid that passed our planet. Surprisingly, no one yelled that it was fake science. Maybe they did, and I missed it.
Science has been in the news more frequently about COVID-19 and the difference between the novel coronavirus and the flu, and whether mitigating by SIP and closing businesses is worthwhile, or should we just sacrifice whoever needed to develop a herd immunity. Science! It’s everywhere.
No surprise that my morning musical stream featured “Blinded Me With Science” by Thomas Dolby (1982).
Doing yard work yesterday, looking at the dreadful state of the side yard.
Things have been planned for years. Yardwork is a low priority, but I thought this shit (I’m using the formal shit here to indicate improvements) would’ve been done by now. Stepping back, I thought of all the things that’ve occurred that I employ as excuses.
Friend dying of cancer. Cat dying of cancer. MIL dying and being moved into a nursing home. Wildfires and their smoke. Drought and water rationing. Extreme heat and poor air.
This year, it’s a novel coronavirus, wearing masks, social distancing, and SIP. (Yeah, a drought is also widening and extending, so it’s not looking good – and the wildfire season started early because of the extremely dry conditions. I also hear some murder hornets are on the way…)
Of course, that sort of stream gushes with vows not to take time for granted and do things when the chance comes, because that chance may not come again.
Long way to say that today’s theme music is Bryan Adams and “On A Day Like Today” (1998). Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 