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.”
I went to a local department store for a few DIY projects. Passing the seasonal aisle, I saw a display of toilet seats.
I never thought of toilet seats as seasonal.
Flooftidean Space (floofinition) – Fundamental area used by a floof. Origins: Flooftidean Elements, a thirteen-volume treatise on floof culture originally published in 300 BC.
In Use: “Apex hunters like cougars tend to have a large flooftidean space, and when humans encounter one, they need to remember not to panic and not to run.”
In Use: “Keri’s housecats had flexible flooftidean space but didn’t let it overlap with one another, although they were apt to steal the other’s favorite sleeping space.”
Warning: short rant ahead.
I don’t know if laws, customs, or behaviors are changing when it comes to driving in Ashland, Oregon. I don’t think it’s a change law. Although I sometimes zone out of what’s going on locally, I believe I would have heard about a law changing how turn signals are used.
Note: turn signals are also called blinkers. More formerly, they’re called direction indicator lights.
See, I’ve noticed a new development here. Drivers stop. As you stop behind them and wonder why they’re stopped, they start to turn and then put on their turn signal.
WTF? I thought the idea behind turn signals was to communicate with other drivers and notify them of their intention to turn. Doing so reduces the chances of accidents and injuries. Already enough of that potential when people are driving around in these powerful metal machines.
I see it in all situations, including changing lanes and at traffic lights. Red light. Stopped. Green light. They move up, begin the turn, and then put on the signal. Meanwhile, the driver they faced was starting to go. Now they hesitate because what the other drive is doing is different from what they’re communicated. The communication confusion spills down the line.
Was the driver who didn’t use their turn signal really just changing their mind? Could happen. Sure. But it’s happening so often now, I’m dubious. And they consistently begin moving into the turn first, and then put on the signal. That strikes me as premeditated.
It happened to me this morning. A large late model Ford pickup truck was stopped in the lane ahead of me. As I closed on him, I could see that no one was in front of them.
Were they broken down? Lost or confused?
Maybe. Because after the traffic coming toward them thinned, the began turning left and then put on their signal.
Yes, they put on their signal after they started turning, after they’d been stopped for about twenty seconds.
It didn’t make sense. For the record, the driver looked white, and a male — I say that because of the beard — in their late twenties to early thirties.
I’m not the only person complaining about the lack of signals. A 2019 NYTimes article explored the same sort of problem.
The NYT article asks, “So what’s the problem here? Why don’t many drivers take this simple safety precaution? When asked about their bad habits in a national study, their explanations seemed confounding.
“The study by Response Insurance of Meriden, Conn., found that 42 percent of drivers claimed they didn’t have enough time to signal before turning. Nearly a quarter of drivers blamed laziness, while 17 percent said they skipped signaling because they were apt to forget to cancel the blinkers. Worth noting: Men admitted that they were more likely, by 62 percent to 53 percent, to change lanes without signaling.”
Laziness. Really? Turning on that signal is that challenging to their strength, attention, and energy?
My situation is a little different. Drivers here ARE turning their signal on, but not until they actually start turning.
I don’t understand what’s going on in their head. It’s such a simple thing. As the NYT article notes, “Is it that some drivers just don’t care about the other guy? If that’s the case, consider this: There is evidence that the act of signaling provides a cognitive benefit to the driver.
“When you turn on the turn signal, you’re turning on your brain,” said Chris Kaufmann, a driving school instructor who specializes in teaching people who drive V.I.P.s.”
My impression is that drivers not using signals until they’re in the turn unaware of the law or they’re not mentally involved in their driving. Maybe they’re on the phone, listening to the radio, or chatting to another in the car.
Driving a car is part of a system. When some drivers don’t follow the system’s rules, it starts breaking down. Maybe it’s anal of me, but that’s how I see it.
Probably just me.
Mood: writcitement
TL/DR: It’s spring. Today’s song is “Why Worry” by Dire Straits. President Biden’s predecessor and current GOP candidate is enamored with dictators, promises a bloodbath if he doesn’t win, and thinks some humans “aren’t human”.
Hello, my traveling peers. It’s Sunday again, March 17 again, but adding the year, 2024, makes it a whole new date.
The average daily high for Ashland in March is 58 F degrees. We expect to hit 71 F. I think I’ll be higher.
I checked a local weather station’s temperature, along with the SOU (Southern Oregon University) weather station, and a web weather source. Here are our temp variations:
My house: (Clay Street, southern end, in early morning mountain shadows, 1836 feet elevation): 45.5 F
Wimer Street: (2 miles west of Clay Street, above downtown, 2050 feet elevation, in mountains): 46.2
SOU: (1.1 miles southwest of Clay Street, 1890 feet elevation, in sunshine by East Main Street): 42.1
MSN.com: 50 F.
Honestly, SOU’s elevation — 1890 feet — seems suspect to me. We descend to that location via a series of hills. For the record, Ashland’s official elevation is 1949 feet. We consider ourselves ‘the valley’, but the valley floor is a little bit lower than us. It’s a pinched and rolling place on this end of the Rogue Valley.
Whatever the temp, it’s a spring day out there, with colors along the spectrum breaking out all over the region.
Reading political news, it’s another head-rubbing, grrrr morning. We have the headline, “Trump warns of ‘bloodbath’ for auto industry and country if he loses the election”. He sounds desperate, resorting to such base threats, trying to induce fear in others.
Then there’s the story circulating about Trump’s other comments during a campaign speech. This is from an article on TheHill.com, but it’s in WaPo and others, too.
“I don’t know if you call them people,” he said at the rally. “In some cases they’re not people, in my opinion. But I’m not allowed to say that because the radical left says that’s a terrible thing to say.”
See, I am ‘the radical left’ because I think others are people. I base this on biology. Genetics. Not politics, religion, or circumstance. It doesn’t matter where they come from. Or how they reached our land. But in Donald J. Trump’s opinion, some people are not people. That’s just laying the foundation to treat other humans as less than human as justification for inhumane treatment.
Okay, class, can anyone name a fomer world leader and dictator who said things like that about other humans?
Up top of that, I read a USA Today opinion post. “Trump keeps praising dictators like Hitler and Kim Jong Un. Will Republicans ever care?” Sara Pequeño wrote it. After writing about Hitler’s record as a dictator who ordered millions to be killed, Ms Pequeño write, “There is no redemption arc for Hitler. We all agree on that, right?”
Well, no. I agree. However, a surprising chunk of Americans seem to disagree. People — and I was one — overlooked how many Americans backed Hitler before WWII and even during WWII. There are Americans among us who still back Hitler because they’re antisemites. They want someone to blame, and remain willing to claim Jews are causing them problems.
That’s one reason they like and support Trump. Trump isn’t bothered by Hitler’s record. His former chief of staff related that “Trump said Hitler did some good things.” That’s worrying for someone threatening bloodbaths if he doesn’t win, and chatting and joking about being a dictator on day one if he does win.
But what about the greater Republican party? I share Ms Pequeño concern, “Will Republicans ever care?” I’m concerned that many don’t know and don’t care because they’ve convinced themselves that Trump is something else, someone special to them. They write off the rest of us and our dire threats about Trump as the lies of outsiders who don’t see Trump as they do.
I agree, too, with Ms Pequeño’s final assertion: “So, everybody who is bothered by this, Republicans and Democrats alike, should keep pointing to his comments for the rest of this election. Then voters can ultimately decide if they support this or not.”
Today, The Neurons posted “Why Worry” by Dire Straits to the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). I know exactly what’s going on with me this soft 1985 song by Mark Knopfler.
I’m a worrier and regularly talk myself down. I recognize that the view I get of the world is skewed and imperfect, no matter how many sources I use. Many of those sources are political or commercial. Each uses buzzwords and headlines to gather attention. Some of them are just trying to rile me up or say things to help their revenue streams. So, while I will continue to worry and voice my thoughts about my worries, I’ll also try to talk myself down.
The cats are outside in the fenced backyard, loving the warm air and sunshine. I’m about to do the same. Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and vote. Hope your weather is to your approval at your place. Here’s the music. There’s the coffee. Let’s bring it all together. 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.”
Mood: groovey
It’s March 14, 2024, and we’re swimming in blue skies and sunshine. It doesn’t make this a warm day — yet. The furnace is still running, dragging up the house’s internal temperature as the day recovers from its 33 F start in our area. 44 F is what the digital thermometer now reads. We expect its readings to climb over 61 today.
That’s why I like spring. I enjoy the shift from bareness and cold, or the white of snow and ice, to the brisk green sprouting, sunshine, and warmth. Summer is lovely but becomes cruel, overdoing it with heat intensity. Thunderstorms add a troublesome facet in the summer, lancing the hot dry land with lightning and sending fires across the fields and mountains and smoke through the sky. Spring is full of possibilities and growth. It feels like a season to relax.
I skimmed the news and marked things to go back and read in depth. Hopeful signs, suitable for spring, emerges along several trajectories. Nothing to get excited about — yet. They must play out. That’s the most difficult aspect of modern life for me. I’m given so much information to digest. It accumulates and shifts with the slow effort of tectonic plates until some resolutions emerge. Often takes years, though.
I occupy a mellow place this morning. Sensing that — they can be very observant — The Neurons lined the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) with Eric Clapton’s acoustic version of “Layla”. The initial rock version came out in 1970. Eric Clapton and his buddy, Duane Allman, playing behind the curtain called Derek and the Dominos. The accoustic version came about 22 years later, 1992. MTV was involved.
There’s a lot of personal behind this song for Clapton. George Harrison was his running buddy. They played for Delaney and Bonnie and Friends on the road. George was married to Pattie Boyd. Clapton fell in love with her. This song helped him express his suppressed feelings. A model, Boyd inspired George to write four songs about her while Clapton wrote three. She divorced Harrison in 1977 and married Clapton in 1979, divorcing him ten years later.
Stay strong, be positive, and lean forward. I’m leaning forward for my coffee cup at the moment, strategically placed right of my computer, but an arm’s length away. That leaves room for my black and white wonder floof, Tucker to get up here and supervise my ‘puter efforts without knocking my coffee over or getting fur into it. I’m very fond of not having fur in my coffee.
Here’s the music. Cheers
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.”
Mood: flooftastic
3/12/24. Tuesday. Clouds have swept in with their shadowy crays. Stealth rain falls, altering the day’s complexion. When Papi and I went outside eightish-AM, sun was shining on us and the air smelled fresh. We noted, oh, this is nice weather with a strong early spring flavor. Now, though the temperature has pushed itself to 45 F, just five degrees short of the projected high, we’ve gone from spring to sprinter again. The rain and snow help the earth recover locally but it doesn’t sufficiently offset years of drought. We’re still considered abnormally dry. Looking at my yard is depressing. So many of the plants were fiercely damaged during the hot drought years. We investigated zeroscaping during that period but with the heat and wildfire smoke, it didn’t work out, mainly because I wanted to DIM but didn’t wish to endure those conditions to do it.
I watched a video from Jimmy Kimmel’s show. They called the skit “Debate and Switch”. Essentially, agents from the show went into South Carolina and asked Trump supporters questions. What the voters didn’t seem to know is that they would ask about things Trump did but mis-attribute them to President Biden. After the person answered, the interviewer would correct the question and note that it was something that Trump, and not President Biden, said or did.
First, it was hugely remarkable that they didn’t know who said what. Did they really not know, or were they just going along with it? Trump supporters are often accused of living in a right wing bubble and being oblivious to what’s going on. I don’t know how accurate this video is, but it seems damning. Likewise, their unblinking pivots about the two candidates shows how little thought they seem to put into matter. Give it a watch.
I have My Chemical Romance performing “Helena” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks, swear to cat). The Neurons explained because I was thinking about politics. Somewhere in the thought process, “What’s the worse that could be said,” part of a larger scheme of thinking around, “What’s the worse which can happen?” This song has several references to the worst: the worst I could take, the worst I could say, the worst you could take.” That’s why Les Neurons slotted it in there, even though MCR’s song is about a grandmother’s passing and has nothing to do with politics.
Stay positive, be strong, and register and vote. Coffee is being guzzled, thanks. Here’s the music. Hey, the sun is out. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 