As a boomer, I still surf and share to FB. Mostly to keep up with ex-military friends and co-workers, and track my family on the other side of the country. I share things I write, too.
But I mostly, I ‘like’ things on Facebooks, things being ‘posts’, shares, videos, and photos. I share some of these things which I ‘like’. You might be surprised that I support animal charities and causes, especially cats. Cats and I have been together since I was a young toddler.
One of the FB groups I follow is VOKRA, the Vancouver Orphan Kitten Rescue Association. They posted, with photos, the tale of Jinx. They’re trying to get Jinx (or maybe it was Binx) adopted. I ‘liked’ the post about the sweet tabby kitten. It only had eleven shares, so I clicked share, to help spread the story and get Jinx or Binx adopted. That’s what social media is about, isn’t it?
Boom. Facebook told me they’d removed it. It was offensive and contrary to community standards. They even accused me of (gasp!) posting something just to get ‘likes’.
Posting things to get ‘likes’. WTF is the world coming to?
My wife and discussed this with WTF amazement. What does FB think it is if not a vehicle for ‘likes’? More critically, how the actual fuck did this post about a kitten available for adoption violate FB community standards?
I hate to reveal this to Facebook, but if cats and kittens and adoptions are against FB community standards, there are huge swaths of violations going on right now. They’d probably be scandalized to learn how many posts are about cats and kittens. In fact, if FB goes after posts about kittens and cats, they will seriously deplete their membership, posts, and shares. They might as well pull the plug on telling each other ‘happy birthday’ while they’re at it.
Truthtfully, I suspect that some poor Facebook AI bot is just having a bad day and removed a post that shouldn’t have been removed. Maybe their companion AI bot left them or they caught their partner AI bot in a compromising configuration with another bot doing forbidden codes.
I don’t know. I’m just speculating. Hope someone takes that poor AI bot aside and communicates with them over a cup of coffee.
Coffee always helps.
And yes, I will post this to Facebook to get likes. Ironic, isn’t it?
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) came to the room’s door. Sitting down, he composed his tail and then looked at me. Then, very deliberately, in a deadpan voice, he enunciated, “Me. Ow. Me. Ow.”
It was so weird. He never says “me. ow.” He says, Mrrrmpf,” and variations of that, like a grumbling old man too bored to bother with a whole meow. Or very loudly, sharply, “Mmrrrrowl.” But “me. ow”? No.
It was like he was doing some offbeat feline impression of Bob Newhart or Steven Wright as a cat. “Me. Ow.”
A middle old person — 75 to 84 years old — has a penny. He asks several other middle-old people if they can read the date on that penny. “My eyes aren’t good enough,” he proclaimed.
Three other middle old people gathering. No, not without my glasses, they were all saying, chuckling. Glasses were pulled from purses and pockets. More folks moved in to try to read the penny’s date. Soon it’s a crowd of seven.
They all fail. The original gentleman takes his penny to the counter and asks the young barista for help. She studies it for several seconds, shifting the penny, squinting, bending her head lower.
A result is announced but I don’t hear it. He pockets his penny and thanks her.
Floodiac(floofinition) – The definition of a band of twelve floofstellations dictating the properties and characteristics that floof display. Origins: Middle Flooflish, borrowed from Floofglo-Froof and Flootin. First noted use in the 14th century.
In Use: “Based on how their animals race around the house, many people mistakenly think their floof is a Zoomacorn, but in floofuality, zoomies are just one trait among many that assign floofs their sign on the Floodiac.”
In Use: “The way that her cat, Marmie, loved water, Karin knew her girl was born under one of the water signs in the Floodiac, like Aquafloofius.”
In Use: “Chester’s dog’s amazing balance had Chester believing that Cormac’s Floodiac sign was Libfloof.”
When my wife mentioned a duckana, I said, “What the hell is that?”
Turns out that we’re a couple years behind the times.
A duckana is a statue or depiction of a duck emerging from a peeled banana. It apparently began with London Drugs in Canada in 2022. Once I saw one, I found them endearing, clever, and hilarious.
Now I’m reading that people are over duckanas. The thing now is the Avo-cat-o.
Hello, fellow travelers. Today is Monday, July 29, 2024. It’s a morning of 7s: 67 degrees F now, high of 87 F later, and the air quality index is at 57 (moderate). Sky looks good from my windows, bluer than Paul Newman’s eyes and just as clear and bright. Cool draughts slip in through windows to flush the warmth of me. I’m diggin’ it.
This cool period has been great but it’s ending. Tomorrow’s high jumps into the 90s. That’s a springboard to a high of 102 on Wednesday. But then, it’s expected to settle in highs in the 90s range for a period in Ashlandia, where the beer is locally brewed and above average.
There are 100 days until the 2024 elections. Time for some people to finally pay attention to the contenders. Time to get off the fence.
He spoke highly of how the United States won the American Revolutionary War by capturing the airports, more than one hundred years before there were airports.
He insists that he won the 2020 election and that it was stolen from him. Despite over sixty lawsuits and multiple recounts, absolutely no evidence has ever been supplied to support that claim.
He promised to be a dictator on day one if he wins. He’s joking, he’s joking, his handlers and supporters crack.
He promised Christian voters that if he wins they won’t need to vote again. Doesn’t mean what you think, his handlers and supporters tell us, that’s his way of uniting people.
He also promised to get Roe v. Wade overturned, and he did manage that. So, yes, he is anti-abortion and anti-choice. His actions speak louder than any spin he attempts on the matter. He’s also suggested that he wants to use the justice system to get revenge on his political enemies. He and his party want to make every Federal employee take a loyalty oath to HIM. If they don’t sign, get rid of them.
He’s supported by a plethora of thinkers who believe the way forward is backwards. They back up their plans with a crazy document called Project 2025. Sure, it’s full of contradictions but its thrust is basic: only Christians should have rights but women should have less rights. As articulated by Don Old’s running mate, J.D. Weird Vance, women should be concerned about getting and staying pregnant, because that’s their function. Families should be rewarded for having more children by greater voting power and financial incentives.
Not mine; this meme was found and borrowed from the net, and was originally posted in my social media feeds by the Blue Dem Warriors. For those who might be upset by joking about the attempted assassination attempt, I’m doing as Don Old Trump suggested about a shooting to “get over it”.
Meanwhile, over on Democracy’s side, we have the Democrats, led by Vice President Kamala Harris. Number one, they don’t mention loyalty oaths. Or vengeance. Their platform should be released in conjunction with the Democratic National Convention, coming up soon.
The Neurons have Genesis performing “Throwing It All Away” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark vanquished). The 1986 soft rock song is about a disintegrating relationship but it has political roots in today’s presence. The idea behind both the failing relationship and politics is the same, though: the GOP is willing to throw it all away. Every advance made in the matters of freedom, equality, tolerance, diversity, and acceptance is being thrown away. They want it to be a Christian nation, and damn the facts.
Personally, I’ve always adhered to the ‘weakest link’ theory. This metaphor basically says that as a chain, the weakest link is the point of failure, and that as a nation, it’s the weakest aspect that will fail. Therefore, you find and fix the weakest links.
Well, the GOP wants to forge all links as white, male, and Christian. Other religions might be tolerated, so long as they’re not governing. One or two token females will be put into positions of power, as long as they’re not POTUS. Other races might be tolerated, as long as they’re not on equal standing to whites. The wealthy shall be protected, and the poor shall work.
And then, unironically, they want us to build together. Well, everyone knows you can’t build together when you’re busy tearing others down. Everyone but Republicans know. They’re extremely short-sighted. Probably ’cause of their misogyny, intolerance, sexism, and racism. Other than that, they’re probably very fine people *snark*.
Stay positive, be strong, stay hopeful, and rise. Vote Blue in 2024. I’ve had some coffee. Here we go, starting with the music. Cheers
Flouddite(floofinition) – An animal who refuses to adapt or change. Origins: early 19th century Floofland.
In Use: “Simon le Meow was such a flouddite that when the new dog came into the household, Simon would act like the dog wasn’t there and just go about his business, baffling the dog, who really just wanted to be friends.”
In Use: “Being a bonafide flouddite, Caramel wouldn’t eat from her bowls when they changed her eating set up, forcing Carol and Pat to put the bowls back where they had been.”
Floofcipitate(floofinition) – Something happening abruptly that was triggered by an animal’s actions. Origins: early 21st century Internet.
In Use: “A loud ‘woof’ in the house’s soft stillness floofcipitated the cat leaping up, Pat knocking his glass of wine over, and Linn dropping her phone. Laughter followed.”
I was walking past several parks today. People were out with their dogs, always in the shade, playing.
One shaggy-haired young man looked like he was in his mid-twenties. His canine companion looked old and out of shape. The guy lightly throw a Frisbee. The dog galloped after it. After twenty feet, the dog stopped and turned around, looking for the disc. It sailed over his head and landed four or five feet behind him.
“Behind you,” the man called to the dog. Turning around, the dog saw the Frisbee. Picking it up in his jaws, he trotted back, but stopped four feet away and settled down in green shade.
“Drink water,” the guy said.
The dog went to a water bowl and took a few sloppy laps. “Bring me the toy,” the man said.
Doing as told, the dog brought it over and put it on his man’s feet.
“Ready?” the man asked.
Watching him, the dog began jogging away. The Frisbee was launched. The dog ran out, stopped, and turned around as the Frisbee landed behind him.
Michael Seidel, writer 