Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Paedofloofism (floofinition) An adult animal who exhibits immature, juvenile, or youthful behavior. Origins: First observed in Europe circa 1891.
In Use: “Paedofloofism was strong in the newly adopted five-year-old dog, Bergstrom, who exibited an unrelenting joy in playing games such as fetch, chase, and hide and seek.”
In Use: “Karin wasn’t surprised by Ginger’s kittens’ playfulness, because Ginger’s paedofloofism kept her playing until the moment she gave birth.”
Mood: variable
The Rogue Valley clocks a fading blue sky and 55 F today. Oh, it’s sunny but clouds hamper the sun’s spread and impact. We’re calling this new day Wednesday, March 20, 2024. 66 F is our anticipated high.
The cats haven’t noticed the weather change. Papi is out in the backyard on a grassy knoll, under some trees but in sunshine. From there, he can survey his domain and take action as needed.
Our other floof, Tucker, has found a sunny dining room spot. One of his favorite places, he can spy on us as we go about doing things from under the table and nap in sunshine through the southeastern windows. He’s doing well, gaining weight and energy, and acting more like his former self. His oral surgery is a week from today.
I experienced a bounty of dreams last night. How many is a bounty? Five that I remember. After the awakening, The Neurons popped The Stone Roses with “Love Spreads” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark countdown has begun). The 1994 song was an enigma to me. I enjoyed the music side, but the lyrics were another matter. While it was talking about a woman, I didn’t understand the full context.
Love spreads her arms
Waits there for the nails
I forgive you boy
I will prevail
Too much to take
Some cross to bear
I’m hiding in the trees with a picnic
She’s over there, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
She didn’t scream
She didn’t make a sound
I forgive you boy
But don’t leave town
Cold black skin
Naked in the rain
Hammer flash in the lightning
They’re hurting her again
Let me put you in the picture
Let me show you what I mean
The messiah is my sister
Ain’t no king, man, she’s my queen
h/t Songfacts.com
I later learned that the song is about the crucifixion of Jesus, part of the Christian teachings. Instead of a white man, a black woman was being nailed to the cross. John Squire, the Stone Roses guitarist said in an interview while discussing the song, “The idea of the song is, ‘Why couldn’t Jesus have been a black woman?’ It’s just an attack on the white guy with a beard sittin’ on a cross, cos that reinforces the patriarchal society.”
Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and please vote. Coffee is at hand; we have liftoff. Here’s the music.
Cheers
Mood: Marchmad
March madness continues, but less than two weeks remain before April shows up with its ideas.
Hi goobers. Today is Tuesday, March 19, 2021. We’re returning to a more traditional spring later this week. Right now, it’s 60 F with a high of 76 F in our sights. The sky couldn’t be any bluer if you asked an elementary school class to paint it.
Naturally, the weather affected the floofies. They’re shedding like fur is anathema to their look. Especially Papi. I went around picking up little ginger and cream fur clusters. Then he galloped around, fur flying in the sunshine through the windows, leaving fur like it was breadcrumbs to find his way back.
With that thought, Les Neurons posted “Find Your Way Back” by Jefferson Starship in the morning mental music stream (Trademark promised). Came out in 1981. I’ve had it as the day’s theme music before, in fact, just two years ago. Works for me for today.
Stay positive, lean forward, vote, and be strong. I’m refreshed and invigorated by sun and coffee. Hope you weather and drink is doing you right wherever you be. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Montastic
Spring has set up here in the Rogue Valley, home to Ashlandia, where professionals from California come to rest. Mountain snow remains on the mountains in places but blossoms, blue skies, and sunshine seem to have settled in. 69 F and sunny now, we’re climbing fast toward today’s 76-degree F high.
Now this warm weather does bring worry, worry that winter didn’t gift us enough, worry that March is too warm too fast, worry that summer will be stratospheric hot. Fingers crossed, knock on wood, it’ll be a moderate summer and give us a respite for recovery from the last several years.
The cats are happy as cats in sunshine, although Papi has become ridiculously restless. Out to in, in to out he goes, what he’s searching for, nobody knows. Methinks he’s hunting for some fun.
I realized from a photo that he’s been with us at least eight years now. Scheckter, one of my original Orange Boyz, passed away in 2013 (cancer) at too young an age after being with us only twelve years. Papi remarkably resembles Scheckter. Seeing Papi on the fence before he joined our household always surprised me because he was such a mini-me Scheckter.
That’s only in markings. Papi is about eight pounds less than Scheckter. Scheckter and his mate, Pogo, were large, muscular cats. Scheckter came in at 19-21 pounds while Pogo bested him with two more pounds.
News reports in the US are cycling around DJ Trump and his latest inflammatory rhetoric. Does he mean it when he declares ‘some people aren’t human. What does he mean people ask when he talks about bloodbaths if he loses.
The headline for David Smith’s article in The Guardian posits that Trump’s 2024 political campaign is about vengeance. ‘A campaign for vengeance’: critics warn of a radical second Trump term.
Smith writes, ‘Detention camps, mass deportations, capital punishment for drug smugglers, tariffs on imported goods, a purge of the justice department and potential withdrawal from Nato – the Trump policy agenda is radical by any standard including his own, pushing the boundaries set during his first presidential run eight years ago.’
For some reason, this is what former POTUS Trump thinks is what will fix the United States. He believes this is what Americans want and what the world needs. I believe he’s wrong. The majority of economists believe his various tariffs had negative effects on the US economy or did nothing. Few believe the tariffs did any good.
As for detention camps, mass deportations, and capital punishment for drug smugglers, such draconian measures belong to a less civilized era, one in which violence and brute force were employed to achieve national objectives. Although we’re waaayyy too armed as a nation, mostly because of the Military-Industrial complex President Dwight D. Eisenhower — a Republican — warned us about in 1961.
It’s depressing that some will follow Trump and pursue these warn out ancient ideas as modern solutions. I don’t believe the majority do. I just hope the majority votes and ensures these ideas don’t become our new national policies.
Shifting from politics to music, The Neurons have “In Bloom” by Nirvana in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). “In Bloom” came out in 1992. It’s come to mind for me today because of that chorus, “He’s the one who likes all the pretty songs, and he likes to sing along, but he knows not what it means.”
I think it applies today because of DJ Trump. He says many things. But he really doesn’t understand what they mean or how incongruous they seem. He tries to spin other meanings, making shit up. And that becomes the new truth for the followers in his cult. They, and Trump’s compliant Republican supporters and right-wing press, spin and insist, “That’s not what he means.”
Outside of the cult, outside of the right-wing media bubble, and outside of the empty GOP, the rest of us understand what he means. We understand the implicit violence of his promises and declarations. We see through his garbage and recognize that he doesn’t give a shit about the United States or the U.S. Constitution and its ideals. This is all about him and his vengeance quest.
Okay, back off my box. Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote, please. I’m indulging in another serving of coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: aggroptimstic
Friday, March 15, 2024, has been blessed by abundant sunshine, praise floof. The cats love it except, today was also blessed by gusting winds. Probably something to do with March in the northern hemisphere, right? Although the temperature was already 50 F, the cats eschewed the outside sunshine for the comfort of the sunshine streaming in through the windows in the wind-free living room. The omniscient weather they think today’s high will crest at 66 F. Yesterday’s high was supposed to be 61 F but my corner saw 66 F, so I’m slithering out on that limb and prophesizing a higher high around our place, and I’m not talking THC, either.
I’m eagerly awaiting the results of the Trump family running the RNC. The new co-chairs, Lara Trump (she with the dead eyes) and Michael Whatley, were personally selected by DJ Trump. The Whatley/Trump RNC declared that they’re dedicated to ‘election integrity’.
I wish they’d be more devoted to ‘reality integrity’. If they paid more attention to reality, they’d know that the fraud that DJ Trump pushes about the stolen election has been shown to be bullshit. Over sixty court cases validate the bullshit verdict. Judges of both parties at several levels found there was no evidence to support Trump’s bullshit. State election officials all found no evidence presented to support the stolen election claim. In fact, if the RNC put more reality underfoot, they would discover that former POTUS Trump is indicted for trying to undermine the official, legal, results that resulted in him being shown the WH door.
But the RNC is leading the TBP now, TBP meaning the Trump Bullshit Party. Little of the ‘Republican’ party is visible under the avalanche of Trump-centric garbage being spewed and supported. Sure, the RNC put out a memo to “Grow the Vote”. They expressed interest in getting more voters who don’t show a propensity to vote Republican.
Then they fired sixty people, including the ones running the Black and Hispanic outreach programs.
Frankly, I’m predicting a wobbly, angst driven 2024 TBP which will end with DJ Trump rejected by voters again. A shower of petulant anger, finger pointing, and angst will rise in the aftermath. Lots of lies will be brought up by DJT. He’ll probably claim he won despite all the evidence that he lost, and that he ran the most beautiful campaign ever.
And the TBP will goose step along with his claims, fueling the confusion and polarization on which the TBP thrives. Time will tell us if I’m right. Maybe I’m hopped up on caffeine and have it totally wrong. Hope not.
Today’s music comes from being out back (with Papi, the ginger wonder cat) on the patio this morning. I was considering the sky, which harbored some clouds in the blue sea over my head. Catching on that I was thinking about the sky, The Neurons began playing “Fall on Me” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). The 1986 R.E.M. song is about things falling from the sky, so I can see why The Neurons chose it.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. I’ll do the same after I suck down more coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers
Tradfloof (floofinition)– Slang for ‘traditional floof’, a phrase meant to convey households or people that hold to a traditional view of a proper pet for their culture. Also sometimes referred to as a ‘tradpet’. Origins: Western culture, circa 2016, via the World Wide Web.
In Use: “In the United States, a tradfloof is generally considered to be a domesticated cat or dog who shares living space with people.”
In Use: “Sizing up Merrit, Karla concluded that Merrit had a tradfloof, and it was a cat, to judge from the scratches marking Merrit’s right forearm. Karla also thought it probable that the tradfloof had suddenly taken a sudden issue with having its belly rubbed.”
Pretsome (floofinition) – Description for an animal who is recognized as handsome and pretty. Origins: 2010s, global, Internet.
In Use: “Lois thought her floof, George Benjamin, had pretty markings in his silky fur, even lovely markings, so she wanted to say he was pretty. Though she knew she was being sexist, she thought it more appropriate to call him handsome because he was male. He’s both, she decided, pretty and handsome — pretsome. Now she understood the word.”
In Use: “With her majestic and dignified bearing, Sara Lee presented a pretsome pose for the artist, who quickly worked to capture all these things for the commissioned flooftrait.”
Hidenget (floofinition) – Game played by animals, and sometimes by humans and animals. Fluid rules allow many variations, but the basic tenet is that one will hide and then spring out on the other. Origins: unknown, but observed and videotaped in many homes around the world in the 21st century.
In use: “Michael and Papi love playing hidenget in the morning, with the ginger floof racing off and ducking behind something as Michael breaks off chase and hides. Watching each other, they sneak out and then run towards the other’s position, and one will then chase the other around rooms and down halls.”
Mood:
Hello, fellow organic beings. The calendar has birthed a new day, Sunday, March 10, 2024. It’s also the day most of the US ‘springs ahead’, changing our time as part of our bi-annual process to keep people tired and confused. Since I’m giving Tucker (my cat) medication every twelve hours, I stumbled through that simple math of what the new time is if he was receiving it at 0930 and 2130. The answer came too easily so I kept questioning if I had it right. That was without coffee, of course, and while I was still half-dozing, arguing with myself about getting out of bed.
Oregon’s weather mobius strip has returned us to sprinter rain. (I suppose I can shorter than to sprintrain by combining spring, winter, and rain). 47 degrees F, we’re closing on the day’s high of 48 F as showers keep window wipers busy. That sky, light gray at its zenith, dark gray crowding the horizons, doesn’t look ready to succumb to sunshine today.
This displeases my house floofs, Tucker and Papi. Both tried the outside. Finding it wanting, Tucker immediately returned. Papi had to try, try again before declaring his willingness to accept the warmth and protection from rain offered inside the house. Both are doing well. Tucker has gained weight and energy back. Fingers crossed for him to continue improving. He executed a few mad dashes in the last few days and unleashed a few loud, attention-grabbing meows.
Dreams were sparse last night and left me with “Torn” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). “Torn” was performed by three other artists, charting high in Norway and Denmark before Australian Natalie Imbruglia recorded it and had a global hit in 1997. Some co-workers didn’t like the song because of a few lines.
“I’m all out of faith. This is how I feel, cold and shamed, lying naked on the floor.”
Several remarked, “That’s disgusting. I would never lie naked on the floor.” I always told them, that’s how she feels, and not what she was doing. Then I’d have them try to imagine how they would feel lying naked on the floor and explain that the song was suggesting she felt exposed and vulnerable. They weren’t having it. C’est la vie.
Be positive and stay strong. I’m enjoying hot coffee on this wet day, taking in the outside world as I dip in and out of revising. Go ahead, seize the day. I’m thinking about seizing a scone, myself.
Here’s the music. Cheers
Floofitime (floofinition) 1. Time set aside or dedicated to an animal’s needs or activities. Originally used in US households in the 1980s.
In Use: “The dogs know that 6 PM meant the floofitime for their walk, and they weren’t concerned about no stinkin’ snowstorm.”
2. Of or relating to things associated with animals. First observed in Europe in the 1640s.
In Use: “The typical floofitime identifiers — cat and dog toys, beds, and feeding stations — immediately marked the home as a floof-friendly, or floendly, as Mom used to say, home.”
Michael Seidel, writer 