Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I cleaned the kitty litter today. The excavated taters were shoveled into a paper bag. I then went through the house with the bag of kitty litter to dump it into the trash. As I went, I held the bag up and called out, “Ho ho ho, merry Thanksgiving.”
I thought it was good symblism for the holiday season upon us.
Mood: Foggedinmemories
We climbed into a Wednesday November 27, 2024. Day before Thanksgiving in the United States. I know a large of people who will be muttering, I don’t have anything to be thankful about.
It’s foggy and cold, 30 F, in Ashlandia, white with frost and ice, but it will get warmer, with the temperature rising to about 48 F. Blue sky can be spied through the thinning fog. I enjoyed cold, foggy days as a child. Encountering days like this in Penn Hills, PA, I’d step outside and let that cold whip my face. I found it exhilerating. And the fog made the world narrow, small, mysterious. It was also usually quieter. People didn’t go out into it. I soon knew my friends wouldn’t go out into it. Some just didn’t want to, complaining that it was cold and foggy. Others said their mom wouldn’t let them. I’d tramp on my own, verifying that the world still was beyond the fog’s envelope, feeling like an explorer. Being careful about your steps were important. Yards dropped off into steep hills and cement culverts lay in wait. I’d sometimes get lost in that fog, and when it burned off, I’d find myself surprised at where I was. I always thought it was fun. Guess that’s why I was considered a little strange, LOL.
Daily Kos delivered some news to my inbox. “If a Woman Dies from Pregnancy and Texas Refuses to Investigate, Did She Really Die?”
The Texas committee that examines all pregnancy-related deaths in the state will not review cases from 2022 and 2023, the first two years after Texas’s near-total abortion ban took effect, leaving any potential deaths related to abortion bans during those years uninvestigated by the 23 doctors, medical professionals and other specialists who make up the group.
Texas, led by Republicans, doesn’t want to know why women are dying in pregnancy-related deaths. I think they know they will find that their draconian fucking laws are killing women. Then they would need to spin that in a way that makes sense, and they know they can’t. Worse, it would provide facts about how poorly the GOP goes about ‘protecting women’. I’m sure if you read this, you recall that Trump declared as a candidate that he would protect women if elected POTUS. Now firm evidence is emerging that the climate, culture, and policies that he promoted is doing just the fucking opposite. Rather than trying to address the evidence, Republicans are doing what they do best: ignoring facts and creating a fake reality by pretending that all is well. “We just won’t investigate those deaths,” they nod and tell each other. “Then they’ll go away.” Dipshits.
Looking out at the fog this morning, The Neurons kept trying to recall a song about fog and confusion. For a while, “Ball of Confusion (That’s What the World Is Today)” by the Temptations in the morning mental music stream (Trademark hazy). Then, Foghat crowded in, because it has fog in its name. But I wanted to remember that song. Not much of it would come back. I was finally forced to turn to the Internet to restore the details. With about four minutes of searching, the Meat Puppets and their song, “Confusion Fog”, was finally restored to my operating system. A co-worker at PAS in Palo Alto, California, where I worked in the mid to late 1990s, turned me on to them. It’s a unique sound the Meat Puppets provide, more like country from the early 1970s than punk to me, but I like the vocals.
Coffee and I have reached detente. The fog has burned away. Sunshine and blue sky rule the day. Hope you find a better way, to make this one to remember. With fondness, here’s the music. Cheers
Wholly in sync with my election thoughts, esp. those tariffs, mass deportation plans, and the compounded impact it’ll have on Americans.
Floofymoon (floofinition) – 1. A lunar event that seems to make animals more energetic or active.Origins: Internet, early 2000s.
In Use: “Bristol couldn’t see the moon because of clouds (and he never looked up at the moon anyway, and privately wondered why that was), but he figured whateverI it was, it was a floofymoon, because the three rescue floofs (they’d chosen him) were rebellious and rambunctious in everyway imaginable, knocking things off the desk, kitchen counter, bedroom dresser, and bathroom counter! It was a night of madness and then they slept like angels.”
2. Short time when all animals or people and animals are getting along well.
In Use: “Most of the time, Bats and Snacks went at it like Steelers playing the Browns, so there was mega levels of barking, hissing, growling, and running 1440 minutes a day, but once in a while, a floofymoon gently landed, and the dog and cat groomed each other and napped together.”
Awoke from a dream where I was swimming. Underwater with my eyes open, I Iooked up at the water’s surface from below and thought, that’s really scummy water. It was some sort of swimming hole and crowded with people. I broke the water’s surface.
I was young, in my teens, with others also in their teens. A girl my age was watching as I broke the water. She wore a red bathing suit. Grinning at her, I said something but she turned and moved away. I was with four or five other guys but none are memorable. We were talking about naming something. I had an idea about naming something and suggested it to them. They wanted more conversation about it. I told them, let’s get over in shallow water and talk about it, because we were all treading water and talking was difficult.
I tried swimming away then but dropped into the water. I thought I’d hit the bottom but the water was deeper than expected. I let myself drop and settle until my foot hit the bottom, and then kicked off hard.
I awoke groaning. I had surgery on my ankle a month ago and am still in recovery. It was now telegraphing pain and discomfort. I believe that while I was dreaming, I moved my legs and foot in real life, and kicked out, hitting something hard with my injured appendage.
Floofyism (floofinition) – Devotion to an animal or animal spirit. Origins: unknown.
In Use: “A familiar and common floofyism is when a person or animal (who isn’t a lion) is said to have the heart of a lion.”
In Use: “A look around Debby’s living room, and Kyle saw full-blown evidence of her floofyism in multiple paintings, photos, and statues of her beloved terrior, Captain Kirk.”
In Use: “Kyle’s floofyism was almost obfloofsive, as he wore wolf-themed tee shirts, rooted for teams like the Timberwolves, Chicago Wolves, and Wolf Pack, and chose to go to Sonoma State University so he could play football as a Seawolf.”
Mood: Suntimistic
Sun is shining. Gives promise to this Sunday, November 24, 2024. Wind is calmish, erratically kicking up like a new foal. A few clouds mill, strutting grays and whites. With a 44 degree F temperture and a high of 48 F, you’re not going to mistake this for anything but late autumn in Oregon.
Pleased with that sunshine after murky days of rain and mist. Such a wonderful and natural way to lift spirits. I went out into the chilly morning air and raised my face to the sun, sucking it up.
I think we’re going to chart how often we let Papi the ginger blade in and out of the house. Sometimes he comes in the front door and runs right to the back door, like he’s using the house as a shortcut. It feels like twenty times a day to me. That’s almost one time an hour, 24 hours. I need to chart it.
Saw a headline that caused difficulty keeping my breakfast down. “Most Americans Approve Of Trump Transition—As Controversial RFK Jr. Gets High Marks, Poll Finds “Most Americans”. Yeah, and most Americans think that tariffs and mass deportations will lower inflation. Shouldn’t be surprised that ‘most Americans approve’. Actually, I don’t think I’m surprised but disappointed.
“The majority of respondents approve of both Trump’s plans for mass deportations (57%) and his plan to impose broad tariffs on U.S. imports (52%), the poll found. Most Trump voters also don’t believe the tariffs will make prices higher—contradicting predictions from most experts—and the third that do think tariffs will lead to higher prices support them anyway.“
And while 59% approve of Trump’s transition plans, of the five nominees listed, RFK had the most positive rating, 47%.
So there we go. We must find a way to Make Americans Think Harder. Maybe bitter experience will open their eyes and impact their thinking. From what I’ve seen, it won’t. After all, look at how much of history, basic government and civics, and economics they keep forgetting.
Final note: I wonder if they included a question in that poll about Trump not yet signing the necessary transition documents? Hmm? Would that change the favorable poll results? Do they know that he won’t sign those MOUs and the ethics document?
To be fair, research has emerged that COVID-19 affects the brain, including a negative impact on IQ. Maybe that explains why Americans don’t seem to think much these days.
My foot continues healing. Edema causes issues. More exercise is needed to combat the edema. But the healing ankle surgery compromises the ability to exercise. Classic Catch 22.
Today’s song is sun focused. The Neurons saw that and started throwing sun and sunshine themed songs into the morning mental music stream (Trademark limping). Eventually, the mingling lyrics and rhythms cleared. Bob Marley and the Wailers arose with “Sun is Shining”. I like the song’s relaxed, easy style.
Gotta say, the green chili stew we made yesterday was a perfect antidote to the chilly wet day yesterday. Added roasted chicken to mine. Yeah, frozen and pre-cooked, low sodium. Yes, I’m a cheater. It’s available for lunch today. Really spicy; my wife said it was too spicy for her. We topped it with avocado and garnishd it with cilantro.
Coffee has been introduced to my internal environment. Gonna go make green smoothies. Think they’ll have a tropical taste. Mango and pineapple. Have the best Sunday you can. Here’s the music. Cheers
Grrness (floofinition) – Quality or depths of an animal’s anger or willingness to fight. Origins: Early 21st century Internet. Synonyms: Feistiness, spiciness
In Use: “Seeing the other cat approach, Papi’s grrness ascended. Eyes narrowing, he stood, lowered his head and tail, and unleashed a long, low growl.”
In Use: “Although only a two-legged human, Jill often exhibited a floof’s heightened grrness when writing about Trump and injustice.”
In Use: “When Walt ignored Casper’s appeals for some of Walt’s food, Caspar’s grrness punched up. Seizing half a sandwich with his mouth, he turned and darted away as Walt furiously shouted.”
Michael Seidel, writer 