Tag: Information

Wednesday’s Theme Music

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

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I purchased new underwear today. TMI? Or, “About time?”

Those are the general reactions people usually give me to these sort of beginnings. Most most-often heard is, “Why are you telling us that?”

Well, the underwear, a five pack, came in a resealable bag.

Yes, a resealable bag. Said so right there on the front of the package. Like the underwear were cheese, cookies, or chips. Even my cats’ kibble doesn’t have a resealable bag.

My wife and I noodled through explanations for why men’s underwear would be sold in a resealable bag. Perhaps, we reasoned, the bag magically washes them? But wouldn’t that be shown on the bag?

It threw off my plans. I was going to unpack the underwear, wash them, put them in the drawer. But now —

Maybe I should use the bag?

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Confloofdant

Confloofdant (floofinition) – An animal to whom others entrust secrets. Origins: 1646 Middle Floofish

In Use: “The man was a paid killer but the only one who knew this was his cat, Stormy. The little black cat had been saved from the side of the road during a storm. He’d rescued the feline after killing an abusive husband for a woman in need. And that same night was when Stormy became Wilson’s confloofdant.” Excerpt from the novel, Confloofdant: The Cat Who Knew Too Much.

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Saw the NYTimes Connections today – April Fools Day – and laughed by butt off when the emojis showed up. Well, didn’t literally laugh my butt off, of course. That would be absurd.

Fun Connections, too easily solved, though.

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Melfloofmene

Melfloofmene (floofinition) – One of nine Floouses who acts as a patron of arts, music, and creativity. Origins: Floofo-Roman floofthology, circa 8th century Common Floof (CF).

In Use: “When she began writing her novel, Sherman, her big dog, acted like Melfloofmene, going on long walks with her to think through her plot and characters, remaining by her side in her small home office as she wrote and edited, and forcing her to take breaks to feed him.”

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

I attended an Easter brunch at a friend’s house on Sunday. Great food, great friends, weather that skirmished between chilly and cloudy to hot and sunny.

At one point, I asked fellow attendees if any had made any Easter resolutions. No one had.

Looks like another tradition is fading away.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunsational

It’s the next to last day of March. Day before Easter. Saturday, March 30, 2024.

We’ve got sunshine snaking around gray masses of condensed water vapor drifting across the blue-wave sky. Temperature is 50 F and some rain is anticipated, with a high of 56 F in the forecast. March winds are blowing.

There is so much news to digest and think about. Writing about multiple events is possible but I won’t, today, sparing you all. As writer Amanda Marcotte wrote in a Salon article, many ideas and stories surrounding Trump and the MAGA GOP can be labeled, “Shocking, not surprising.”

I’d rather stay away from that and focus on my fiction writing. Part of that is because I’m in an enjoyable phase, rev 6 of one of the works in progress. A second part is that I’m weary of the often-exasperating news, like the MAGA GOP kneejerk response to the demolished Maryland bridge. Then there’s a third factor, that due to Sunday brunch with friends tomorrow, I’ll probably not be writing tomorrow. So I’m trying to get ahead.

I will say — because I have little impulse control, I suppose — that the video of the Dari cargo ship striking the Francis Scott Key bridge and the bridge’s collapse is stunning.

Music for today comes from 1975. I can’t parse why The Neurons plugged it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking). That’s the way of The Neurons. (Is that a novel title? The Way of the Neurons.)

My Neurons like hijacking my brain (which might be called brainjacking, I guess), and the body follows. Like, I’ll go into the kitchen to get a glass of water and suddenly I’m eating cookies, no explanations given. It’s like my Neurons have me hypnotized.

Anyway, today’s theme music is brought to us by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils. “Jackie Blue” was soft country rock song released in 1975, a year after I graduated high school. I was in the U.S. Air Force then and heard it regularly on my car’s AM radio. 1975 was the year of my first duty assignment, Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio, and the year I was married. That was my first wedding, and remains my only wedding, and the marriage still endures. “Jackie Blue” and being at WPAFB and getting married seems fused in my head. So when I heard the song today in the MMMS, I remembered young me as I took on adulting.

Stay positive, be stalwart, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has already been swallowed in significant quantities, so let’s listen to the music. Cheers

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Floofyophile

Floofyophile (floofinition) – An animal lover. Origins: Floofish, 1820s, in France.

“In use: “Born into a family of floofyophiles, it was no surprise that Riley became a floofyophile at a young age, but her industry to save animals by the time she was ten years old was newsworthy.”

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The Cats

We returned from the vet office yesterday. Tucker was released from his carrier. He trotted free and then turned back. At the carrier again, he insistently sniffed its door. A few steps away were taken and then he sat down and commenced a serious washing session.

Papi approached. Tucker paused his washing. The two cats tentatively touched noses, Papi’s pink on Tucker’s black.

Floof note: these two felines never touch noses.

Papi seemed to be verifying, you went to that place? And Tucker seemed to be replying, too right.

My sympathy, Papi answered, moving backward. He wandered toward the kibble bowls.

Tucker resumed cleaning.

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On X

I used to be on Twitter. Left it when the infantile X man took over. Others convinced me to return.

I get new followers every day. Most are women. They put up photos of attractive women. They usually have hundreds to thousands of followers.

And they have zero to few posts.

I don’t follow them back. I think they’re bots. Lures for something going on, maybe.

A few reached out to me via X’s messaging system after they follow me. Their missives typically include, “Nice to get in touch with you. I see that you are also paying attention to some political matters. What do you think of the current political situation?” They almost always use similar words.

My response is to not answer.

Yeah, there’s nothing going on here.

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