prioritize
supersize
elasticize
plasticize
comsumerize
profitize
monetize
politicize
moralize
demonize
capitalize
Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
prioritize
supersize
elasticize
plasticize
comsumerize
profitize
monetize
politicize
moralize
demonize
capitalize
Stealers Floof (floofinition) – Scottish floof rock (flock) group active and popular in the 1960s.
In use: “Stealers Floof (sometimes written as Stealer’s Floof) is most known for a song called “Stuck in the Middle with Me”, a jaunty song about house pets that won’t give their people a minute of peace or solitude.”
This is Memorial Day in the USA. As we remember the ones who gave their lives in wars to preserve our freedoms and celebrate their lives, I watch with wonder at others thumbing their noses at the efforts to keep them safe.
“Tyranny,” they shout. “My body, my choice.”

“You’re trampling on our rights.”

Watching the social distancing and mask-wearing guidelines collapse in Missouri (via video) yesterday (well, they did have hand sanitizer and were taking people’s temperature, so I’m sure it’s all good…), an old Steve Miller Band song, “Serenade”, came to mind.
Wake up, wake up
Wake up and look around you
We’re lost in space
And the time is our own
That’s my choice for this Memorial Day’s theme music.
J. Floof Band (floofinition) – American floof rock (flock) band originally from Floofster, Massafloofsetts, who hit their commercial peak in the 1980s.
In use: “The J. Floof Band broke into floofstream consciousness with “Flooframe” and “Centerfloof”, but seemed to drift away as suddenly as they rose.”
Time for slide back Sunday.
With time slipping away (fewer markers out there to force me to pay attention), I often find that another day has fled. Muddering about it, I thought about how day flows into night and night flows into day, distinguished by weather and light changes, sleep cycles, eating, and clothing changes.
Out of that came a 1965 song by the Kinks, “All Day and All of the Night”, which amused me. (Easily amused? That’s me. Check.) Trawling the Youtube uncovered a 1965 television appearance where they played it. Seeing that black and white footage, hearing that sound quality, admiring their haircuts definitely slides me back to a more relaxed time (primarily because I was just a wee shithead at that point).
Here we go.
Being limited in travel, my mind has been muttering about how it’s been a while since we’ve done different things. With many of these things, it’s been a while with or without COVID-19 and its associated policies and limitations; it’s just life that these things have been a while.
My brain likes to explore these thoughts, hook up with the main theme, and then regurgitate a song with that theme in it. Today, it’s Staind with “It’s Been Awhile” (2001). Because, brain does what brain does. (How do you like that tautology?)
Other than the self-questioning, my life has little to do with this song. “It’s Been Awhile” is about drug addiction, with a reflective nuance about the stupid things that he’s done which haunt him. Now I can relate to doing stupid things; I wouldn’t be me without executing a stupid idea once in a while. (“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”)
So, I can relate to it being a while since I’ve done some stupid things. Guess I’m overdue.
Twisted Floof (floofinition) – American hard floof rock (flock band) originally from Floof Jersey, but more recently citing Floof Island as home.
In use: “Twisted Floof’s songs, “We Are Gonna Take It” and “I Wanna Run”, have long been recognized as rebellious anthems appealing to adolfloofents.”
Masked up and went walking yesterday. Of the ten pedestrians I encountered, one was masked. So, about eighteen percent are masked when out and about, contrary to guidance.
Our little town has a reported ten COVID-19 cases. That’s an unofficial count. The county has had fifty-two cases. Social distancing and sheltering-in-place has been practiced, but most only wear masks when in stores, because the stores demand it. So, I suspect our low count is due to our rural nature, limitations on travel, and luck. I hope it all holds.
While out exercising my legs, I realized I was humming a song and identified it as the Rush song, “Freewill” (1980). I have one friend who was a devoted Rush fan and another who can’t stand Rush because they don’t like Geddy Lee’s voice. The Rush lyrics rushed in with these memories (sorry for the pun).
A planet of playthings
We dance on the strings
Of powers we cannot perceive
The stars aren’t aligned
Or the gods are maligned
Blame is better to give than receive
[Hook]
You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice
You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill
I will choose a path that’s clear, I will choose freewill
h/t to Genius.com
These lyrics are taken in different ways by different people. (Well, words, right? That’s how it goes with words.) I’ve always thought that the song referred to thinking for yourself. I like to believe I think for myself. I wear a mask because that’s recommended; studies show it helps reduce viral transmission.
Maybe I am sheeple, as non-mask fans charge. Perhaps my twenty plus years in the military conditioned me to obey orders without question. Don’t think so, myself; I was known for challenging orders.
Then again, we select and frame the information and memories that best suit what we want to know as the facts, don’t we? We’re each in our own bubble. We try to control what comes in and goes out but there’s quite a bit beyond our control.
Nebulous? No, complicated. One thing that I’ve discovered as I’ve aged is that I’m not the person who I think I am. My window into myself is as limited as my windows into others. My body is often doing things that I don’t know, responding to chemicals in ways that science knew but I didn’t, and my brain often reacts before I think. We depend on surface impressions and isolated moments to inform our decisions. Some of them are magnified in importance – in our heads – rising on waves of emotions and intellect.
Such complicated beasts we are in a complicated world. Which takes me back to “Freewill” and Rush. You make a choice. Sometimes it seems to work, other times, it seems to flop, but a lot of times, we’re forever waiting to learn the results.
So many diverse dream elements last night. Here’s two of five. It’s too exhausting and time-consuming to recount more. These left the greatest impression. First, the game show.
A flood had wrecked a place. I felt it could be salvaged. Seeing how it could be done, I convinced the network to give me a chance to execute.
Things immediately started going wrong but I kept persevering. I ended up with two basketball hoops at one end. Two young women were assisting. I had a nerf basketball. Then I started attempting explaining what was supposed to happen. As that’s going on, it was announced time’s up. You’re going live.
I wasn’t supposed to be on the air, but there I was, throwing the nerf ball and falling miserably to make a basket. I kept throwing the ball to the hoop; it fell well short. I then decided to bank it off the backboard. That fell well short.
“It can’t be done,” I said. “We need a different ball.”
One assistant replied, “We’ve been doing it with this ball.” Another man stepped up, threw the ball and made a basket.
Everyone was laughing at me. Embarrassment and frustration flooded me. The network said, “Hey, people are watching you. They’re enjoying this. You have a hit.”
The next segment took me into the kitchen. My wife and I were cooking. She put a pot on the stove and turned on the fire. The pot immediately boiled over. Calling my wife, I removed the pot from the stove and turned off the flame. The yellow flame didn’t go off, but spread, going over other food and dishes on the counter, horrifying me. Then the flame went out.
My wife came in. I told her what’d happened but she made a comment, took the pot, announced, “That’s done,” and left, telling me to turn something else on.
I reached for the stove. Yellow flames sprang up and spread. I withdrew my hand. The flames went out. Nothing was burning; it was just flames.
Outside now, in a new section, my wife, friends, and others were talking. My wife had won something and had a large clear bag of stuff. “I don’t know what’s in it,” she said. I suggest we open it and separate it.
We found car parts. Toilet cistern repair kits (which looked nothing like it should, but I knew what it was). I was suspicious, thinking that several piles had been mixed together, but didn’t voice that. My wife took what she wanted and tossed the rest.
A friend came by, complaining that another friend had lost some things and telling me where the other friend said he’d left them. As he went off, I called after him, “Was it car parts and toilet parts?”
The other friend kept walking away. The dream ended.
Whitefloof (floofinition) – Hard floof rock (flock) band prominent in the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s, known for their ballads and power chords.
In use: “Whitefloof’s most well-known song among floofs is likely, “Here I Floof Again” (1982), which was a major hit in the U.S.A.”