Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Flooeismic (floofinition) – Activities or events involving animals which have a widespread or significant impact. Origins: 1858, Greece
In Use: “When Coltrane and Etta finally made peace and slept together, it had a flooeismic impact on the household dynamics.”
In Use: “OR-7‘s journey as a gray wolf trekking through Oregon and into California had a flooeismic impact on popular culture at the time.”
Note: Returned home to discover a technical glitch in The Neurons resulted in a failure to launch.
Mood: understated
Good day. Please come in, come in. Welcome to May 26, 2024. It’s 65 F now, sunny with blue sky outlining a fleet of sulking white clouds. Thunderstorms are possible.
Thunderstorms struck yesterday
Today is part of the middle of the Memorial Day weekend. Take a mo’ to recall all those who lost their lives trying to support the United States’ ideals of freedom, equality, justice, and independence. I know those ideals have always taken some shots. Written by white men, it was mostly written to white men’s benefit. Females and other races were eventually ‘given’ the same rights and benefits as white men.
Well, that’s what it said in the words and documents. They’re based on ideals and logic. Emotions are harder to wrestle. People who don’t like those changes are hostile members of our nation and are regularly rolling over our ideals while bizarrely claiming to be promoting our ideals through their abhorrent behavior. It’s a headscratcher.
My sisters and BIL and I went to the Pitt Floyd show in Oakmont last night. It’s a beautiful old theater, and we had a good time. Most of my good time was because I was with family. The sisters and I laughed and acted silly, and BIL gave perfect support.
The music was okay, as were the accoustics. The show could have used a good sound engineer to balance the notes and volumes, but we can’t have everything. Hearing the collection of PF songs fired a spectrum of emotions. Their early music came out while I was a teenager. Their music was part of my life as albums came out and I went to their shows and cheered the new stuff. They aged, of course. Several members died. This is life. I thank them all for their talents, and thank last night’s musicians for their talents, too.
I had a bizarre incident after I left the show. I’ve been having an issue with my right foot. A matter of pain, motion, and support. Those facets all wax and wane, sometimes limiting my effort to properly walk but generally ceasing after a few minutes.
Well, last night, we left the show. Encountering the band’s female vocalist, we complimented her for the show and her talents. Then, walking across the street, I made a step and turn.
Snap, went my right foot. Crack followed. My foot released its support. My right leg felt like it was kicked out from under me.
I caught myself before I went over. Pain burned through my right foot. Righting myself, I hobbled to the car. By the time I was home, agony has established a home in that foot. Diclofenac Sodium Topical Gel was liberally applied. I slept with my foot on a pile of pillows. It was an uncomfortable night. As a 68 year old man who drank two beers earlier, I had to pee twice. Fortunately, I found an unused cane.
I stayed home this morning, eschewing writing, instead icing, exercising, and massaging my foot. I can’t see any swelling or discoloration. It’s not working right, especially when standing on it alone as I put on my underwear, and going down the steps. Especially the down part. I will live, however.
With Pink Floyd’s songs ringing in my brain and thoughts of the nation’s founders mixing in my head, The Neurons dropped a Pink Floyd tune into the morning mental music stream (Trademark censored). Mom and I had been talking about political news and she commented, “I wonder what the men who wrote the Constitution would say about what’s going on.”
Boom! The Neurons plugged “Wish You Were Here” in. What would John Adams et al say about our current situation? I think they would need to be updated about history, like the American Civil War, the Civil Rights Movement, the ERA, Roe v. Wade and Dobbs decisions, and the other wars which shaped our nation and world.
I don’t know what those guys would say. I’d hope that they’d condemn Trump’s lies and hateful propaganda. I hope they would chastise Trump’s supporters for their appalling ignorance and hypocrisy. I hope they would lecture the corporations for their greed, newspapers for doing a poor job of informing the citizenry, and come down on we citizens for not being being more involved in our nations affairs and our poor voting records.
Enjoy your day. Be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Gotta go. A cookout calls.
I read a NYTimes article about Dr. Richard Restak’s new book on aging. His new book is “The Complete Guide to Memory: The Science of Strengthening Your Mind.” The Times’ article’s title is “How to Prevent Memory Loss”, and that sums it up.
As I reach toward the end of my sixties, I think about memory loss, especially forgetfulness. Whenever a moment of forgetfulness strikes my wife or I, she tends to say, “We’re getting old.”
I dispute the idea that my forgetfulness is automatically a product of aging. I didn’t at first but then I began thinking back to previous episodes of forgetfulness in my life. I’ve had brain farts at one time or another, so I don’t think we should assign much importance to them now. Further, I think blaming it on aging is a sort of surrender that will propagate the myth and acceptance that my memory burps are all about aging.
For instance, if you will.
We’ve gone shopping without a list prepared and forgot to buy something. My partner’s almost kneejerk reaction is, “We’re getting old. We need to remember to make and take lists.”
Well, yes, dear, lists are useful. We learned that lesson forty years ago. That’s why we began using lists in the first place. So, it ain’t necessarily because we’re getting old now. It’s because, like those times in our youth when we forgot something, we were busy. We didn’t slow down to think. We let our mind wander from the task.
That’s almost exactly what Dr. Restak notes in his paragraph, “Some memory lapses are actually attention problems, not memory problems.”
That’s why I liked this article. Many of the suggestions and ideas Dr. Restak presents to help prevent memory loss were ideas I’d discovered for myself. So I find it validating. I think practicing self-awareness about how I approach it whenever I forget something is key. Think about the circumstances around why something was forgotten. Reflect on it: was it an isolated moment or part of a larger trend?
A larger trend is more problematic but dig for the roots of it. Don’t automatically react, well, I’m getting old, so I’m getting forgetful. No, be mindful about remembering.
Finally, what really triggered me to think about this as a post subject was his point about reading novels.
One early indicator of memory issues, according to Dr. Restak, is giving up on fiction. “People, when they begin to have memory difficulties, tend to switch to reading nonfiction,” he said.
Yes, indeed, I thought. Remembering characters and plot events and details is challenging when reading a novel and thoroughly exercises our memory muscles.
But if you think reading a novel is a memory challenge, try writing one. Keeping details in mind of a complex character and involved plot will definitely help exercise your memory.
Now let me get back to editing and revising before I forget what I was doing.
Mood: Bureausilized (when activities are rendered useless by bureaucracy and become fossilized)
Good morrow, gentle folk and fellow coffee guzzlers. Today is Tuesday, May 14, 2024.
For the record, we’re fully overcast in Penn Hills, PA. It’s comfortable out, 61 F, with rain and thunderstorms chugging our way. They’re scheduled to arrive noonish. Today’s high will stroke out at 72 F.
Trump on Trial (the hush money/business fraud business) holds my family enthralled. Details are reiterated and explored. They’re also enjoying Trump’s latest tax issues, whereby he seems to be on the hook for $100,000,000 in taxes.
But doubt has been expressed that anything significant will emerge from either of these matters. Trump is white, male, and wealth, even if he may not be as wealthy as he claims. He’s also an ex-POTUS and the woeful GOP’s current candidate. Looking at the crime and punishment Venn diagram, significant punishment and karma don’t seem likely. The lesson reinforced for most of us, I think, is that the U.S. has a tiered justice system that mocks ‘and justice for all’.
The Hunt for Mom’s Caregiver goes miserably. All agencies contacted have suggested other agencies to contact. It’s a quagmire of links and promises, but little of substance is ever found. Others have found caregivers, so it is possible. Just need to moving out of expectations that any government agency will be useful.
Likewise, there’s no movement on Mom’s hospital bed request. In his case the road goes through her PCP’s office. Calling it is like shouting into a sewer. There’s not even an echo in response.
Today’s theme music veers to remembrance of David Sanborn’s work. The saxophonist died this week, robbing us of another wonderful musical talent. While more talented musicians keep emerging, the ones who marked us with their style should remain recognized and appreciated.
One of the first songs The Neurons pulled up for David Sanborn was David Bowie’s “Young Americans” from 1975. Then, as I read appreciations about him, many more people mentioned this same song. Sanborn’s body of work was much better than that, though.
I like this video which I found to showcase Sanborn. Not the best sound quality, but there’s a lot of talent on display here beyond Bowie and Sanborn. So many of them have passed.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Meanwhile, create and adhere to a vision of a better world. We make it happen, yes, we can make it happen.
Coffee is being chugged. Here’s the video. Cheers
Take them in and grin, giggle, and guffaw at existence. I particularly enjoy the Presidential goals. True yet funny, it aptly encapsulates GOP goals and progress for most of the last forty years.
Floofthing (floofinition) – 1. Unexplained behavior and noises manifested by animals. First noted use in the early nineteenth century in the United States and North America.
In Use: “One of the most commonly witnessed floofthings is cats chattering (also frequently mentioned as chirping or twittering) when they see insects, birds, or rodents.”
2. Entertainment, bedding, spaces, feeding and medical devices, etc., set aside for animals’ use. First recorded use in the late twentieth century.
In Use: “Catios are trending upward as a floofthing, with homes adding catios as a place where their beloved floofurevers can safely go to outside enclosure and enjoy sunshine and fresh air.”
3. Assembly or court used in Floofmanic lands during the Middle Ages. Also known as a floofmoot in some regions, or a floofsembly. Used to peacefully settled disagreements and try floofs for breaking common laws. Origins: Floomania in the 800s, early Flooxon.
In Use: “Claw carvings found on ancient trees tell of Floofitus calling for ‘repfloofentation of all wyld floofs’ to join together to reduce mindless floofwar.”
Mood: Saturitis
Saturday, April 13, 2024, has emerged through timid sunshine and mild, sporadic showers. 51 F degrees now, the thermometer’s advance will end somewhere around 60 F. That’s life in April.
The cats and I were spoiled by that burst of warm sunshine, though. We want it, we cry. Papi the ginger warrior is particularly vocal about it. “Screw this wet stuff,” he cries. “Give me the shine.”
Tucker has magnificently recovered from his surgery. While still an old boy, north of 14 years old, we believe, his personality has re-asserted itself after bearing pain for several years. I’m sorry I didn’t help him sooner but I was really leery about having all of his teeth removed.
I’m feeling Saturitis today. It’s a blend of it being Saturday and the need/desire to get some work done that is also conflicting with the idea that it’s Saturday, let’s do something fun! Undermining the Saturitis mood is the weather, which doesn’t seem overly conducive to either end of the Saturitis spectrum.
Mom seems to be doing better. Hospitalized, enduring pain and discomfort, going through physical therapy. She said she’s there for another ten to fourteen days. Also said she’s doing alright. “The food is terrific.” That’s always welcomed. She had meatloaf with peas for lunch with banana cream pie for dessert.
An odd song was summoned to the morning mental music stream (Trademark showing) today. The Neurons somehow pulled up “Enola Gay” by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (OMD).
This song was released in 1980. It’s about the Enola Gay, the American B29 Superfortress which dropped the atomic bomb, called ‘Little Boy’, on Hiroshima, Japan, in August, 1945.
I didn’t learn about the song until I was helping my wife with a Hiroshima/Nagasaki vigil she was setting up in conjunction with WILPF – Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom – around 2006. She asked to help brainstorm some music. I came across the anti-war song, “Enola Gay”. The techno-pop tune was rejected as too silly and lost to the standard American anti-war and pro-peace pop/rock offerings.
I don’t have good insights into why The Neurons brought “Enola Gay” forward today. Maybe they just confused April with August. Hard to say with them.
Okay, stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has found its way into my body. Here’s the music. Please give it a chance. Cheers
Mood: springflective
Thursday arrives with a whisper so soft, most miss it. It’s April 11, 2024.
Spring outside pulls me in. 51 F degrees. Still wind and expansive sunshine. The air is expected to bring temperatures in the low 70s.
Sounds of the city travel through the yard. Cars on the roads. A train warning of its advance. Hammering and sawing. No voices except crows, robins, and sparrows passing on observations. The cats listen. They don’t reveal what they’re thinking.
OJ Simpson passed from cancer, Alexa tells me when I ask her about why she’s lit green. My wife says, I don’t know what to think about that.
Truly. Simpson was once an American hero on the gridiron. First in college, then in the NFL, if those things matter to you. Otherwise, he was just another citizen. Then came the murders, the trial, the riots, the questions. It all hangs over us like a pause in existence.
In personal news, Mom is still coping at the hospital. The place was packed. After spending most of the day in a bed in a hallway, she was moved into an ER space for the night.
She’s being transferred today. They’re going to put her into rehab and work on her balance and mobility. She’s grumbling about it. A creature of habits, she gets uncomfortable being wrenched from her ruts. I know because I’m much like her.
As far as the fever and pain over the last several days, the med staff is postulating that this is just the after effects of her abdominal surgery. The surgery was five days ago, so my little sister on the spot has flagged it as dubious. But, that’s how it’ll be treated, going forward.
Thinking about our small town’s sounds later in the morning has The Neurons summoning songs about cities. Stevie Wonder’s music about living in the city whispers through the morning mental music stream (Trademark under construction). Then comes Billy Joel. 1982 “Allentown”.
Yes, more it’s more fitting. Billy Joel’s song was about hopes and changes. Substitute America for Allentown. Change some other words and you have a new anthem for the U.S.
“Well, we’re living here in the USA.
“And the way it’s changing is hard to say.
“Standing in lines, watching our phones.”
But the song’s real heart for me comes later when he addresses the promises made or implied by teachers that we would succeed and advance, “if we worked hard, if we behaved.” The promise was hijacked. I put it on corporate greed, but that’s fueled by individual greed, selfishness, and now, by a GOP that is trying hard to go back in time as a way forward.
Sorry, boys, but there’s not a DeLorean big enough to fit all of us to take us back in time and change now. The vast majority of us know that. We’re moved on. We’re moving forward, and we’re going to keep moving forward.
I don’t think of everything in terms of politics, BTW. May seem like it’s so but it’s more that this seems like a politically charged period for me and many others. I also look back through the lens of history to see what changed, how it changed, and what did not.
Stay positive, despite what has happened so far. The promises were made or implied that we’re part of a grand experiment in the US, creating a government by the people, for the people. It’s a work in progress. Other nations are doing it as well, and many have become better at it than we are now.
I’ve already boarded the coffee train. Here’s the music. Cheers
I’m pleased to share Annie’s recap of about Simon Rosenberg. “Hopium” Rosenberg’s insights into the 2024 polls — and why they’re wrong — make tremendous sense to me. Read and think about what his take, and you’ll see what I mean. Like these significant points:
Can you explain why? This goes back to the midterm congressional elections in 2022, as I recall?
“Yes. The argument I made then was threefold. One was that the Republicans did something unusual in 2022. Usually when a party loses elections, they run away from the politics that caused them to lose. And Republicans were running toward it. They were becoming ever more MAGA, even though MAGA had lost in 2018 and 2020.
“Second, that Biden was actually a good president, and we’d have a strong case to make. And third, there’s been this huge increase in citizen engagement in the Democratic Party. We’ve been raising crazy amounts of money and have an unprecedented number of volunteers because of the fear of MAGA”.
“We were stronger and better than was the conventional wisdom. The constant mistake everyone’s been making since the spring of 2022 has been the overestimating of their strength and the underestimating of ours. We went into Election Day with there being this huge belief that the Democrats were going to get killed. I believed those three things were going to allow us to do better than people expected in 2022. And I have that basic view now about 2024.“
I mean, shouldn’t we ask why what didn’t work in three previous elections will work in a fourth? No; three strikes; Trump is out.
Cheers
Mood: Histalgic
Hello, fellow peepers. Today is Wednesday, April 2, 2024.
It’s raining again in Ashlandia. The temperature as dropped back into the forties. Oh, but that day, yesterday, when the temperatures resided in the upper 70s (Fahrenheit — could you imagine what it’d be like if it was 70 degrees Celsius?) was glorious and spirit lifting. I remind myself that the rain will help things grow and continue to nibble away at our drought problem. The rain is a good thing, as long as the rain is kept to a moderation.
The rain displeases my house floofs, Tucker and Papi. I released them to the backyard per their demands. The patio is covered, so they weren’t in danger of melting from the rain. And the rain imbued our air with a lovely, fresh scent. But when I opened the back door fifteen minutes later, they scurried right in and demanded treats, because it’s raining. They made a good case, so I treated them. Then I treated myself with a lemon scone to go with my coffee.
Today’s reading for me included coverage of Senator T. Tuberville. He’s an R out of Alabama, although he might be living in Florida. That’s okay, though; Alabama wrote its laws so people representing their people don’t need to live among the people they represent; they only need be a resident for a day. Seems sensible *snark*.
Sen. Tuberville was campaigning in Utah where he claimed that supernatural forces were undermining the United States. Was he talking about Jesus? Because I agree, those people saying they love and believe in Jesus but then do everything possible to be contrary to Jesus’s teachings are undermining our country. Some — not all — of these GOPers for Jesus stand against the whole ‘love thy brother thing,’ at least in words and actions, if not in thought.
But this is about AI. Artificial Intelligence. The Alarida Senator also claimed in his Utah speech to have visited all fifty states during his political life. Curious, I asked Bing AI — BAI — about it. BAI replied, “Yes, Senator Tommy Tuberville has indeed traveled to all 50 states during his political career. He made this claim while campaigning for an ally in Utah, emphasizing that he has been to both good and bad places across the country 1.”
Well, hey, BAI, I claim that I’ve been to the Moon and Mars. Does that make it true? That’s what I’m looking for, BAI. Actual evidence beyond a claim.
See, I don’t trust Tommy T. as a reliable source. He made claims before which didn’t hold up. See the things he said about his father’s military service. Or his foundation for veterans. Check the actual donations made after he declared every dime would go to Alabama vets.
In the end, I’m not overly worried about Sen. Tuberville’s declaration musings “supernatural forces” undermining our government. After all, he once declared the three branches of the US government to be “the House, the Senate, and executive.” I don’t believe he’d know a supernatural force if it bit him in the ass. The way he sometimes appears, I think they might be biting him in the ass. Then again, that could be Trump or one of his sycophants.
Today’s music comes by way of the news. I was thinking about the impact of state abortion laws which deny women the right to control their own health when it comes to pregnancy. The same laws handicap medical staff from helping women who are pregnant, in more than one state. For an example of one of the worst, see Texas.
Besides taking away women’s rights and insisting women carry fetuses to term, these states often do very little to help people their unwanted children are born.
With all that thinking scrambling The Neurons, I wasn’t too surprised when those Neurons posted “Love Child” to the morning mental music stream (Trademark unrealized). The 1968 song was another Motown gem. Performed by Diana Ross and the Supremes, the song lyrically relates the stigma of a girl born in poor circumstances, wearing rags or second-hand clothing, and having an unwed mother. They experience guilt; they feel scorn.
Now, she’s addressing the matter of sex for herself. What if she becomes pregnant? They might ‘end up hating the child they’re creating.‘ The song deftly shows the complexities suffered by someone who is an unwanted who is now forced to address that same situation. Abortion is never mentioned. For my sensibilities, it’s there, waiting to be discussed. Remember, Roe v. Wade didn’t happen until 1973, five years after “Love Child”. Abortions were often dangerous and frequently illegal, depending on the state.
Afternote: even in Texas, back in 1968, abortions were illegal, except when when necessary to save the mother’s life. Now the great Texas legislature has decided that the mother’s life is worthless if she’s pregnant; only the fetus matters now in Texas.
Well, I hope I got that all out of my system. Hope someone is still reading. Had to put it out there to understand what I think.
Remain positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue to put us back on track toward a nation and world where women have the right to control their own body again, and a place where another’s religion or privilege doesn’t dictate everyone else’s rights. Here’s the song. Let’s have a good one, shall we?
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 