

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Mood: believing
Goorning folks. I thought it was time we blended good and morning as a greeting and just use goorning. Economical. Cuts down on those extra syllables weighing us down. “Goorning. Hoyadoin?” Hoyadoin is another blend.
Today is July 22, 2024. It’s a Monday. 76 F with smoke painting the blue sky gray, today’s high will be in the mid to upper 80s again for us. Smoke is worsening through the day, as it usually does. We started with our air quality charting as ‘moderate’. We’re edging toward unhealthy. An alert has been issued. There’s also a fire warning issued because the land is so dry and hot winds are picking up.
I spent the morning outside while it was cool and the air was healthy friendly, so I’m writing late today. Picking up on the news, the big stuff for the U.S. at this point is President Biden dropping out and Veep Harris announcing that she’s chasing the nomination. At this point, we expect an uphill fight. Kamela is not the incumbent President and its positives. But she’s part of a good administration, a strong one. However, she has things against her as viewed from some circles: female, other than white, young, from California.
Those negatives are bullshit, of course, but this is the United States, home of the free and land of the bullshit. Vice President Kamala Harris is intelligent and passionate and has garnered several significant endorsements. The Nikki Haley Voters PAC endorsement really pleased me. Close behind is the six governors endorsing her. And for what it’s worth, a Times article claims that the change from Biden to Harris has fired up support for Dems in the tech industry.
After reflecting on all of this, I convinced myself that I’m a Kamala Harris believer. It’ll be a tough fight. I’d like to see her debate Trump. Naturally, we can expect every legal machination possible thrown at her and her ‘legitimacy’. Hope the SCOTUS doesn’t get involved, because my faith in them is in the dumpster.
Besides all of that, what Trump and the GOP represents is just unaccepted. Project 2025, while not a coherent document, displays dangerous counter-democratic and outright hateful, bigoted ideas. Agenda 47 is loaded with ideas meant to exclude people based on who they are. Sorry, but that’s fucking unacceptable. Most of us agree with that; the ones who don’t want to drag us back to the stone age. They must be stopped.
As my wife and I were both avoiding delving into the news last weekend, I spent a lot of time perusing book lists in the NYTimes. They had created a reviewer’s list, and then a reader’s list. My wife is a big reader and when I read the reader’s list, I thought that she had read almost all of them. So I went through the list with her. She’s read 88 of the 100. Most that she didn’t read were non-fiction. Several of the fiction books she hadn’t read are in the house awaiting her attention. Well done to her, you know?
BTW, she doesn’t agree that “Demon Copperhead” should be #1. She’s not a fan of the book.
We also went off to the library yesterday to pick up more books and another jigsaw puzzle. The week’s activities are becoming set.
We my thinking about Kamala Harris percolating, it’s not surprising that “I’m A Believer” is circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark qualified). Neil Diamond wrote it, and the Monkees had a hit with it back in 1966. But I have the Smash Mouth cover of it from 2001 in mind. They did it for the movie Shrek but it solidly charted in the U.S.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Be a believer. Here’s the video. Feel free to sing along with it. Coffee has made its way into my systems. Here we go. Havagooday. Cheers
Mood: Sundaylax
It’s Sunday, July 21, 2024. Quiet rules the neighborhood. The cats and birds are all chilling. Haven’t seen any deer, cougars, foxes, or bears. I guess they’re off chilling somewhere, too.
Wildfire smoke crashed the scene yesterday. Gaining density, we were soon sitting in a yellow fog at 96 degrees F. The smoke carried out Air Quality clear up into the unhealthy zone, finishing just short of hazardous. The cats were forced in, the air purifying machine turned on, and the windows kept closed as sunlight fled and night swarmed in.
Dawn brought relief. Temperatures wre huddling in the low sixties. Smoke mildly grays the blue sky but visibility is much better. I’ve cautiously opened a few windows. Doesn’t smell overly bad. I experience some eye tearing and itchy now and and again, then a dripping nose, and a bout of sneezing, but overall, it can be endured. All the weather sources are agreeing that we’ll touch the high eighties as our temperature’s ceiling. That’s a welcome change.
I don’t know where the smoke is originating. California has several going. Southern Oregon where I live is relatively fire free. East of the Cascades delivers a different story, as major fires are going in Oregon on that side, especially by the Idaho border. Hope all stay safe and the fires are soon contained.
“Danger Zone”, a song by Kenny Loggins and associated with the movie Top Gun is storming the morning mental music stream (Trademark threatened). I don’t know why The Neurons pulled the 1986 song from the mental archives for this morning. It doesn’t seem overtly dream related. Could be smoke & fire thinking, I guess. I don’t believe that it’s a political manifestation as I swerved away from politics this morning.
It’s a kind of strange video. 80s music, 80s clothing, 80s dancing. But they’re my people. LOL.
Have a better one. Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music and there’s the coffee. Help yourself. Here we go. Cheers
Mood: coffeetermined
Dry, hazy, hot. Not as hot as many U.S. places. Haven’t really checked the rest of the world. I’ve been mired in my American experience.
It’s 83 F in Ashlandia, where the sky is postcard blue and the sun beams down with frying bacon intensity. Gonna get hot today. How hot is questionable; one source said, 99 F. Another gave us a quote of 95 F. Somewhere in the upper nineties is my guess.
Tomorrow will be cooler, they’re saying. Fingers crossed, they’re right. Some are saying, 89 F will crown the temperature. Others declare, 91 F.
I’d love something in the high eighties for a change. I’m working on the side yard. We have a couple raised beds located there but chose not to use them this year, because we had other plans. While I was away in May, this yard grew thick with weeds. Now they’re all straw yellow and ripe fire fuel. I’m trying to remove it all but the heat gets in my way. Also, I grab this stuff and it just breaks away. Getting rid of it is going to be an involved process. I’m considering watering it to green it and then pull it up.
Papi and this jay have something going on. Papi is our ginger blade, a rescue floof abandoned when neighbors moved away. He and they apparently didn’t get along well. He’d started visiting us and socializing. Originally calling him Meep because of the soft sound he made, we started feeding him and giving him shelter when the weather went to shit. Eventually, he was ours and his original folks were gone.
I don’t know what precipitated it, but whenever Papi leaves the house and goes into the backyard, this jay flies over and screeches at him. I mean, it’s relentless. This started several days ago but this morning’s episode seemed more intense. I had the bedroom slider open to let the cool night air in, with the screen closed. Papi came in and ate just before six and went back out, and that jay started up like a frenzied MAGA fan. I could see the bird on our table yelling at Papi. Papi didn’t seem to be doing anything in response.
Anyway, out of that, The Neurons conjured the 1972 song which Billy Paul had a hit with. See, I’d said to myself, Papi and that jay have a thing going on. I guess The Neurons thought that segued well with the song’s lyrics, “We have a thing going on.” So now I have the song playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark scratched). If you listen to the song as I did, I sang along but subbed the words, “Papi and the jay have a thing going on.” When I sang it to Papi, I swear that he rolled his eyes and walked away.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is mingling with the tastebuds. Time to jam. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Heatweary
It’s currently seventy something in Ashlandia, sunny as hell, with blue sky from here to there, and Friday, July 19, 2024. The morning lacks that ‘Friday feel’ to it that used to be so special. That might be because the continuous high heat has evaporated it. Or melted it. I don’t know.
It will be cooler here today, reaching just 93 F, just above our standard for this time of year. ‘This time of year’ is used so much, we should create a new word out of it, like thistimeofyear.
It’s quiet time in my life but busy. Tracking others’ health, tracing my health, trying to get on top of a rotating list of tasks, but you get ’em done and they come around again. It’s part of life’s great cycle.
Of course, U.S. politics are weighing down my thoughts and mood. Trump speaks and out spews lies. And those who disparaged him before now stand by his side singing his praises. The lack of principles is sickening, more so for those who support these characters.
Anyway, my brain was talking to me about how ‘everybody knows’ that Trump lies. It’s like a given. Somehow, that gains him followers. What kind of voodoo is that?
A dark and pessimistic song was brought forward by The Neurons. “Everybody Knows” by Leonard Cohen came out in 1988. His bassy graveled words carry sensibilities of wry cynicism and worldly acceptance. Playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark tarnished), the lyrics mock how all know and accept. Cohen lists them with a sneer — “Everybody knows.” That’s how it seems now. Everybody knows Trump lies and cheats, it’s been proven. He leaves glittering disaster in his wake and there’s a history to prove it. Everybody knows. But he has his supporters singing his praises, pretending that shit hasn’t happened. Everybody knows it’s because they share his ‘values’. When we dig deeper into those values, we discover that they’re just a veneer over their prejudices, fear, and hatred. Calling them ‘values’ makes them feel better about themselves, even though everybody knows that it’s bullshit.
Stay positive — seems cynical, maybe even hypocritical, for me to suggest that to you, given how insurmountable I find it each day to stay positive in the face of media reports, polls, and the GOP hypocrisy. But, swallow, deep breath, I try, and urge you to do the same. Stay positive. Lean forward. Be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. And believe.
Coffee and I are doing the morning dance. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: coffee-upd.
Welcome to Ashlandia, where it’s Thursday, July 18, 2024. Currently sitting at 70 degrees F under an unfettered blue sky, we expect to achieve a high only three degrees above our July average, 95 F. I’m looking forward to a summer day when we’re three degrees below average. Yes a day in the high nineties would be a treat. On the plus side, our dry conditions keep us from being flooded as is happening in other parts of the U.S.
A friend was relating some cat tales to a group last night. His cat is now mature and they’ve been leaving together for a few years, so he finally broke it to her that she was adopted. He thought she took it well.
Later, though, she was lying on the floor in dim night light. He went by, brushing his foot against her back leg. She instantly bolted out of there at the speed of light. In the process, she used his big toe to launch herself, and her claw left a nice souvenir. Next day, he had the front door open but the screen door on so she could look out. Well, she climbed the screen and got a claw stuck. He saved her and she rewarded him with a five-inch scratch. I wondered, was this all accidental, or was she acting out because she learned she was adopted?
Cats.
Today’s music comes from noodling thoughts. I’d been thinking about how Evangelicals have embraced Trump. He’s one of them is their claim, which means, they’re like him, yeah? In doing so, they’ve basically re-branded themselves with Trump’s values. It sickens me. Anyhow, eavesdropping on my thinking, The Neurons dropped Joan Osbourne’s 1995 hit song, “One of Us” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark hopeful). Eric Bazilian wrote the song. In it, singer and writer wonder, what if God was one of us? A stranger on a bus trying to make their way home. They create an image so far away from the Evangelical’s bizarre twist that Trump is a holy savior.
Right. Let me the picture the scene. Can you imagine Trump taking a bus to go home? Imagine him among the hoi polloi. Of course, he’d be trying to sell something and bragging about how great he is. “I’m the greatest savior ever,” he’d declared. “And it’s not just me thinking that. The Pope told me. He said, ‘Donald, you’re the greatest savior ever, cause you’re not a loser. You’ve never been nailed to a cross.'”
BTW, it’s Sour Candy Day. I’m not a fan of sour candy but if you are, please indulge.
Stay positive — yes, deep breaths, right? Be strong. Lean forward. Vote Blue in 2024. And drink coffee. That last is totally optional for you, but I’m having some, black, hot, and unadulterated. Dig me?
Here’s the music. And away we go. Cheers
Mood:
Good morning from Ashlandia, where comfy 65 degree F air brushes me from the open office windows. We called off fast last night and dropped into the low sixties, delivering a solid open-window sleep experience. Blue skies are again benevolently overseeing the morning. The hot side of things is expected to ‘only’ chug up to 95 F. Tomorrow, we go back up to 96. All of this is above average. My wife lamented this morning, “When will this heat end?”
I’ve been reading the news. Bad weather and its impact — let’s not talk about climate change, though! — the Republican National Convention, Judge Cannon’s ruling to dismiss Trump’s stolen documents case, and the unending wars dominate my news feed. I was amused to see the Teamsters aren’t indorsing anyone, they tell us. Yes, makes sense, because Republicans are so kindly inclined toward unions, right? Yes, that’s morning snark.
Judge Cannon’s delaying tactics and now outright dismissal, reinterpreting law and precedence, has drawn heavy legal scorn. The DOJ has approved pursuing an appeal. I’m really interested in how the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals will react. Last time they ruled on a Cannon ‘initiative’, they scolded her. Hope they take her to the woodshed this time.
Of course, on the Democratic side of the election process, the media has made it seem like President Biden is a dottering old fool. This takes place as Agenda 47 and the medieval Project 2025 are being scrutinized. My hope is that a silent majority is out there. Fully aware of the GOP’s assinine, reactionary positions and authoritarian leanings, this silent majority will ignore the press’s hand wringing and Clooney’s ill-advised advice and deliver a solid Democratic victory. Fingers crossed, right?
That has The Neurons channeling Patti Smith and “People Have the Power” (1988) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark hopeful). The Neurons started the song toward the end in my morning mental music stream, the part that goes, “The power to dream, to rule, to wrestle the world from fools.” That’s always been my dream, and will continue to be it. You may say I’m a dreamer but I know I’m not the only one.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I have struck up our daily morning exchange, and the world already seems like it might be getting better. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Coffeebunctious
Good morning, good day, good afternoon, and good evening. Today is Tuesday, July 16, 2024. It’s now 81 F in Ashland, cloudy, a bit humid, stiff and dull with heat. Our high will be 99 F. Clouds like pleasure craft in the sea have come to the harbor of our sky.
We were coming back from running errands yesterday when the sky darkened. A large, swollen cloud mass blocked the sun, bringing up a wind. Rain veils hovered over the southern mountains’ trees. Could we get rain? my wife and I wondered.
Back home, we questioned Alexa. She assured us that rain wasn’t happening.
Then thunder steamrolled our street. Huh. A few minutes later came a lightning streak. More thunder. The power flickered and danced. Then soft rain pelted the hot ground, summoning petrichor from its depths. The temperature flew from the mid 90s to 86 F. Doors and windows were opened as the thin, light rain drizzled over us like light frosting and left. Thunder continued for another thirty minutes but that was the only band member there as lightning and precipitation hustled on. The temperature recovered to hit 90 but the evening cooled fast. The night was pleasantly chill, and a deep slumber was enjoyed.
One of the things that come with lightning in the west is worry about it striking the ground and igniting fires. Yes, that happened, quite a bit. Many were immediately found and outed. A few are still out there, watched and prioritized to be addressed by the proper government agencies.
The Neurons are feeding One Republic with “Counting Stars” from 2013 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark steamed). It was the line, “Lately, I’ve been, I’ve been losing sleep, dreaming about the things we could be,” which hooked The Neurons. I don’t blame them; I like the line as well. Then I sort of hooked onto later line myself: “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive.” As a person living with hypertension and medicating for it and dealing with edema, I make strenuous efforts to avoid sodium. My bod and sodium don’t get along and the less little bit each day triggers swelling and exasperation. Ah, life gives us each a unique burden to carry, unless you’re some kind of strangely fortunate one like TFG. It’s a uplifting song for me, nice beat, with some stirring lyrics aptly delivered.
Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I have been sharing a pleasant morning. Hope you’ve been doing the same. Here’s the music video. Off we go. Cheers
Mood: gagging
Hi everyone, it’s Monday, July 15, 2024, in Ashlandia. It’s 71 F here. We expect a high of 97 F, about five degrees above our average for July. BUT yesterday was exected to top out at 96, 97, and we ended up with 102 at my house.
July 15 happens to be my little sister’s birthday, so happy b’day, little sis. Two years younger than me, she was the family baby until a couple other little sisters showed up six years later. Just found one on the doorstep in Wilkinsburg, PA, one year, and then another followed a few years later. I love all these little sisters. The oldest little sister is now a grandmother and one of her granddaughters is now in her teens. A common story but still freakin’ amazin’ to me, because time, circumstances, change, you know.
I think about her often. She’s Republican and her hubby is deep MAGA. Her boys are deeply progressive. It’s an interesting household.
Yes, I read the news today, oh boy. Judge Cannon took a dump on us. It’s just one GOP dump after another.
In this instance, an ex-prez took docs he wasn’t supposed to take and actively worked to hide them and stop them from being taken away from him. But gosh, that special counsel, Cannon says, not sure that’s legitimate. I feel like I’m listening to the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland. Honestly, my faith in that case soured as soon as I learned who the judge was. I figured she’d wait until after the elections to dismiss it. But it’s a July surprise.
Move on, you say, move on. Yes, it’s going to take me a while. Between the Trump-loaded Roberts Court giving Trump cover and now the Trump appointee dismissing the case, my trust in the legal system has crashed through the floor and is mired somewhere in the Earth’s core. Using the Spinal Tap scale of 1 – 11, my confidence level in American justice is at minus 6,232,716.
“Hungry As A Wolf” by Duran Duran is percolating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark shaken). Not much surprise for the 1982 song, as I was hungry for both breakfast and justice. I took care of the former. Still hungering for the latter.
Ah, be strong, right? That’s what I tell myself. And stay positive. And have a sip of coffee, and maybe a longer, deeper swallow. Okay, here we go. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mood: Weary
Not enough sleep last night. Tucker (pronounced Tuckah) matters. Just not eating enough. Aging, etc.
Also, dreams. Lot of weird freakin’ dreams.
A gray-blue sky covers us as smoke from a fire somewhere has made our valley its destination. 70 F now, weather forecasts paint us as hot — 100 F — dry, and dusty. This is Saturday, 7/13/2024.
The weather seers have revised our upcoming weather, so it’s gonna be hotter than we’d hoped. Not in triple digits, but just under it. We were all looking for a break.
The media is suddenly loud and big on Project 2025. Stories are leading across the mediascape about all the ways ultraconservatives under a Trump presidency want shove foundational changes to our freedom and rights, along with the way we do business. Their dream is of unshackled big business making obscene profits (as if current profit levels aren’t obscene) with no concern about the environment or planet, led by a ‘christian’ (as they define it) government, with an executive branch chasing vendettas
Out on the campaign trail, President Biden is striking back at critics who demand he step aside with fiery speeches and assertive attacks on Trump. On the GOP side, the media publish pieces with gentle chiding, even chuckling tones about Trump’s latest crazy rant in June about water and the New Green Deal.
“They put restrictors and they put them on in places like here where there’s so much water you don’t know what to do with it. You know, it’s called rain. It rains a lot in certain places. But, now their idea, you know, did you see the other day? They just, I opened it up and they closed it again. I opened it, they close it, washing machines to wash your dishes. There is a problem. They don’t want you to have any water. They want no water.”
That’s part of Trump’s statement. ‘I opened it, they close it, washing machines to wash your dishes. There is a problem. They don’t want you to have any water. They want no water.’
This is coherent, intelligent discourse about water-saving measures? Yet few call for Trump to step aside, pass the baton, or let young leadership step forward. Crazy.
Thinking about Trump and what he’s said and done since he’s come on the political scene back in 2016 inspired The Neurons. They rang up Paul Simon’s song “Still Crazy After All These Years” from 1975 and have it playing in my morning mental music stream (Trademark sedated).
Be positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I have an appointment with coffee I must get to. Here’s the music. Cheers