Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
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.
It’s another sunny day in Ashlandia, where the tourists are everywhere and the air is ripe with the smell of cooking food.
Hi. It’s Tuesday, 11 Jul 23. Sunshine is our watchword. The other watchwords are heat, smoke, and fires. We’re heading back up to 90 F today. 69 F now, hazy. What’s causing that haze? Some report it as wildfire smoke from Canada. We hit the fire watch pages. NorCal and Oregon both have multiple fires burning. How close becomes the question? How big, how contained? And we worry about the people and animals there… 100 F is being projected for Saturday’s high.
I’ve been seeing the news about the Amish riding electric bikes to get around. Will they come up with an electric carriage? Each local community can make its decision about it whether ebikes are acceptable, based on their perceptions of the technology and the application of the Amish philosophy. I guess an ebuggy might be around the corner. Look out.
The Neurons plugged “Stormy” by Classics IV (1968), an AM radio regular during that era. Perversely, Les Neurons stuck the song into my morning mental music stream when I stepped out onto the back patio this morning. After greeting the cats, who’d gone out earlier, I considered the weather and said, “Looks like another sunny day, boys.” The Neurons remembered the line from “Stormy” that goes, “Bring back that sunny day.” That crept into my head and then splashed into the morning mental music stream (trademark pending).
Stay pos and work it out. There will probably be down days, but hopefully, up days will follow. I’m having coffee now; join me? Here’s the music. Cheers
Give me an F! Give me a U! Give me a —
Oh, wait. I started to spell Friday but diverted onto a Country Joe and the Fish route. Some of you may not understand.
Starting over. Welcome to Friday, end of the work week for many, beginning of the weekend for multitudes. Today is October 22, 2021. Storms roared around us all night, giving drum solos worthy of a Rush concert. Sunrise stole in, infusing light and color into the gray day at 7:32 AM. Sunset comes around at 6:18 PM. A blustery wind has brought us balmy temps. We’re hovering around fifty right now and expect to reach the low sixties. Not as fine as yesterday, when the thermometer kissed the low seventies, but we’ll take it so long as it comes with rain.
Songs about rain and storms are naturally mingling in the morning’s mental music stream. I featured “Stormy” by the Classics IV a few years back. I thought I’d present the Santana cover, done in 1978, for today. Carlos stayed with the original song’s mellow feel. Of course, for me, the line so well known at the end of the chorus, “Bring back that sunny day”, isn’t about a woman, but just better times. Deliver us to some better days — some sunny days — around the world, s’il vous plait.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and vax up and booster up when you can. I’m behind on my coffee rations this morning. Need to go fetch that first cup. Here’s the music. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers
My first thought was, “Shit,” followed by my second thought, “Shit!”
Going backwards, I struggled to grab anything nearby, a futile effort because nothing was nearby. As I went backwards, I was turning my head, taking in my environment, and processing information. This led me to a realization that I was falling backwards.
The sky was dark. It wasn’t night darkness, but stormy darkness. My dream mind split between addressing what was happening now and worries about surviving, to a more intellectual approach that wanted to understand how I’d come to be falling backwards and where I was falling from.
The where part seemed visible as a dark gray castle on a high mountain crag. Some trick of light played with it because I also saw it as a rain-whipped white concrete building with tall, dark windows. The image duality confused me, but they reminded me of ivory tower and Gothic horror. The background for both were thick, charcoal clouds that promised prolonged and violent storming. I seemed to think or recall, my dream self didn’t know which, I’d been climbing, it’d been wet, and I’d slipped. When I did, I lost my grip and the wind blew me off the mountain.
Meanwhile, I was falling straight backward, going down. Knowing that behind (below) me was a steep, treacherous ravine filled with fir trees and boulders, I didn’t relish landing, because it was sure to be painful.
Then, I wasn’t falling down. I seemed to be hanging in the air on my back. I looked left and right, enjoying that. As I did, the wind picked me up and righted me, an action that spread a grin across my face. “Thank you,” I thought to whoever or whatever did that for me.
The weather had delivered on the promised deluge. Winds roared around me as lightning ripped the sky and lightning boomed in best Wagnerian manner. But I was cool with it, calm, but wet, and weirdly, grinning and happy. The dream ended.
I still grin as I remember it, because I looked so happy.
After awakening and cruising through morning routines while drinking coffee and mulling the dream, I thought, this represents the past and traditional ways of doing things (the dark castle), and the intellectual writing process (the ivory tower), and my usual fears of failing (falling), with efforts to reassure me not to worry (floating and then flying).
Stormy Daniels was on Sixty Minutes. I watched. Didn’t learn anything new. Her situation with Donald Trump isn’t changing anything.
Nor will Karen McDougal’s situation with Donald Trump change anything.
Nor will what the other sixteen women who claimed, with graphic details, how he sexually assaulted and molested them, change anything.
Trump supporters will not, or do not, care for the most part. A few outliers will quit supporting him for this behavior. Most of Trump’s supporters will not. They’ll say, as Rush Limbaugh has said, “Bill Clinton,” cherry-picking exactly what happened, and twisting memory into making history different. And, or, Trump supporters will say that his personal behavior doesn’t matter, that it’s his political agenda, and what he’d doing, draining the swamp, that matters.
All that infuriates Democrats, many Independents, and those on the left. They’re disgusted when this behavior is uncovered, no matter who the person is, from Bill Clinton to Al Franken, to Hollywood actors and producers. Anger and support withdrawal usually quickly follows.
It’s been pointed out multiple times that Trump hasn’t drained the swamp with the quality of people he’s selected for his cabinet and leadership positions. Trump claims the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were huge mistakes, but he hired one of the architects, John Bolton, to be his NSC advisor, and John Bolton is hiring more of the thinkers behind PNAC and the horrific continuing wars of the Middle East. That’s one more point that seems to prove that what Trump says doesn’t matter, just as he said he’d never be on vacation as POTUS, and never go golfing, because he’d be too busy.
The children’s protests, walk-outs, and March for Our Lives won’t matter either, to Trump supporters and the NRA. They’re doing their damn best to ensure that the narratives are twisted to fit into a surreal political reality.
In the larger context of our politics, it all matters to the world’s citizens. What Trump and his supporters say, how they say it, and what they do, reveal enormous logic gulfs, and shreds their claims to ethics and morals. They can’t see it, won’t acknowledge it, or, when they acknowledge it, rationalize that it doesn’t matter.
No, the best that can be said about these matters is that America’s youth are bending more sharply to the left and equality every day.
Left is such an easy label, but we’re forced to use it, because gun control and equality are defined as left issues. So, every mass murder in a school followed by nothing more than thoughts and prayers pushes America’s youth further left. Every action against equality for transgender people and the LGBT citizens of America that Trump announces, like his ban on who can serve in the military, pushes them further left.
Because here is the funny thing. Not many of the youngest American generations watch television. They don’t read the mainstream media. They find their own news. Those children who organized, who hear Trump’s words and see how his statements don’t align with his behavior, how he flat-out flips on issues and lies about what’s going on, are being pushed further to the left. Every time they go through these lock outs and lock downs in their schools, and hide in fear, they think, “I am tired of this. It’s not fair.” That’s what they said this weekend. And they move further to the left.
Which isn’t good news for Democrats and the Democratic Party. That party holds itself in the center. It’s opportunistic, short on principles and leadership, and doesn’t offer a great vision for America itself. No, this isn’t about whether Hillary should have won, would have won, or did win. Hillary, despite what so many on the right say, has nothing to do with it.
This is about, for example, stripping away the laws put in place after the last economic meltdown, which is what Democrats and Republicans in Congress just did. This is about, as Trump supporters have pointed out, business as usual in Washington D.C., and the merry-go-round of elected officials and lobbyists, and the influence of money in politics.
Trump wasn’t the answer to that.
Neither was Hillary.
No, this is about a new political will that’s growing and shaping itself. It’s growing among the young people. I’m not sure what shape it’ll take. I’m old, male, and white. They, the young, no matter what their color, race, gender and sexual identity, don’t think as I do. They create their own spin, decide their own truths, and pursue their own actions. Egged on by the high costs of living in America, dwindling opportunity, and failed government leadership, they’re moving away from the institutions and norms that were set up as the functioning center for the last one hundred years. Fewer of them are driving, so cars matter less. Manufacturing had already drifted away and they, the young, no longer see it as the savior it was after World War II. Money matters less because they have to do without it. Bankers have already betrayed them, and revealed their infinite greed, so the young have grown up not trusting them.
Water matters more because they see and experience what happens without it. The environment happens more because they see the impact of the plastic dumped into our waters. Equality matters more, because they know people who are transgender, and LGBT, and recognize them as equals and friends, regardless of the law.
And that is the change that matters, because they are bold and powerful, and growing in numbers. When they finally take control, it’ll be something to behold.
Michael Seidel, writer 