The road leads back

I know you saw this coming, so let’s just get to it.

Today’s earworm is Ray Charles singing “Georgia On My Mind”, honoring Fulton County DA Fani T. Willis slapping Captain Capslock and 18 others with 41 felony counts to do with election interference in the 2020 presidential election in Georgia.

They include RICO charges, which seems appropriate since the Kleptocrat has been a mobster wannabe since his youth. (It’s also chef’s kiss for co-defendant Rudy Giuliani, who pioneered the use of RICO prosecutions when he was US Attorney for the Southern District of New York. Lotta guys in federal slammer are laughing it up and hoping to be block mates with Rudy Colludi about now.

If you dive down into the indictment, released late Monday night, you’ll see a lot of mob-like activities in service of keeping Cadet Bonespurs in office. It’s hard to pick the most despicable and terrifying of the lot, but the campaign of intimidation against election workers Ruby Freeman and Shaye Moss—multiple heavy-handed threats to get them to lie about how they processed the counting of ballots—stands out. That went all the way to the top.

The other thing that really scares the bejesus out of me is the literal interference with voting machines in Coffee County, with corrupt voting officials allowing unauthorized whackjobs access to the machines, including downloading data—sensitive data on voters and votes—in service of the conspiracy. Those geshreis you heard Tuesday morning were me shrieking, “What the FUCK???” Everyone involved in that (and similar activities in other states) should be on the fast track to the joint, with no access ever under any circumstances to anything even remotely resembling a computer or connectivity.

So—let brother Ray take it from here.

 

Leaping fungus

Saw some mushrooms popping up along the W&OD trail the other day. I liked the pattern they made, so of course I took a photo.

But I cannot see mushrooms on the hoof without thinking of the dancing ones in the Nutcracker Suite part of Fantasia. So I went to YouTube to watch them again and was startled by the racist trope. (It’s been decades since I last saw the film.)

However, it turns out that this particular segment is “The Chinese Dance”; here’s what it looks like as choreographed by the Mariinsky Ballet:

So I’ll stand down.

 

 

 

Piling on the beauty

Last week I was taking some more pix of the gigantic hibiscus when I realized that something—some insect—had been chowing down on some of its leaves.

And it occurred to me that they’d created something that formed its own lacy beauty. 

Then, there were these sockets that anchor the blooms.

So much to admire.

 

 

Macro plastics

Monday is recycling day here in the ‘hood. Fairfax County stopped taking glass a few years ago, so you have to take that down to designated dumpsters (there is a grand total of two in the People’s Republic). Dunno what happens with them—the county probably dumps them in the landfill with everything else, but at least you feel like you’re making the effort.

They do continue to accept plastic, aluminium and paper. So I suppose we should be grateful.

However, I noticed one of my neighbors had this out for collection, and I was appalled:

I don’t know what period of time this barrelload covers, but how can people go through this many 16oz plastic bottles of water? The ratio of content to container is just criminal; why can’t you at least buy gallon bottles and pour glasses? Or get five-gallon delivery?

I absolutely despair.

 

 

Gratitude Monday: An attitude of gratitude

Saturday I went to a party hosted by a friend and former colleague at a major enterprise software company. We’ve known each other for 20 years. (She’s been with the company for 36 years; I lasted 15 months.)

The community center of her development was absolutely chockers with people who’d come from all over for the celebration, which she called “Joyful Time!” There was uncertainty about what was being celebrated (she disabused anyone who thought it might be her birthday, which is in October, or perhaps her earning an MBA from the University of Maryland at a certain age), but really, everyone came because of Jacquie herself.

She explained that she was throwing the party because for so long we haven’t been able to hold get-togethers, so it was about damn time. And she expressed gratitude for everyone there; every person in the room is important to her and she’s grateful for all of us.

Well, so am I. For my first party since the Before Times. For seeing Jacquie for the first time in probably 19 years. For meeting her family and friends. For getting out of a Confederate state. For being reminded of grace and gratitude.

I’m reminded of an exchange Jacquie and I had back I the office:

Jacquie: We gonna get you some attitude.

Me: You know—I’d have thought that attitude was the one thing with which I was singularly supplied.

J: We gonna get you some sistah-attitude.

Well, alrighty then.

Here’s a shot of Jacquie and her sisters.

And here’s the crowd who came to celebrate.