No, we did not float away or blow away during the night.

Thank you — we’re very excited too.

Unfortunately, a lot of people in the direct path of Hurricane Helene weren’t as lucky, and I wish them all a speedy recovery.

We had on-and-off rain, lots of wind, and the power has been out since around 1:00 a.m. (Eastern time). No air-conditioning, and I slept with two little flashlights and a package of AAA batteries next to my bed. Altogether, a survivable outcome.

However, early a.m. messages from our county advise dangerous road conditions, downed power lines, lots of debris, etc. So no idea yet when power will be back on. I’d better save my battery and sign off now.

We’re still better off than a lot of others, so no complaints.

Brendochka
9/27/24

That’s the U.S. State of Georgia — the one Donald Trump was talking about when he told the people to get out and vote, but showed a picture of the Republic of Georgia instead.

But that’s irrelevant. There’s a hurricane a-comin’, and she’s a beaut.

I’m writing this on Thursday evening, but probably won’t publish it until after midnight Friday, just before turning in for the night and trying to sleep. Helene is about to hit Apalachicola, Florida, as a category 4 storm, and should head north/northwest from there. We are located well east of the projected track of Helene’s eye, about 35 miles northwest of Savannah, Georgia; but the effects are widespread, and we’re already getting heavy rain, with thunderstorms and possible tornados forecast for later tonight.

We’re far enough inland that we don’t get the storm surges from the ocean. But there are lots of rivers and creeks nearby, and some of them tend to flood every time it drizzles. Since this area is already built on swampland (don’t ask me why they did that), there isn’t room underground to absorb a whole lot of rain water, so it just pools wherever it can — on roads, in people’s yards, in parking lots, on flat roofs, mixing with the chlorinated water in swimming pools and overflowing . . . wherever.

Hey, have I mentioned that I’m not really fond of the climate here?

I was born a Yankee. Originally from New Hampshire, we lived there and in Rhode Island, then back in New Hampshire, until moving to the Washington, D.C. area when I was 13. I thought that was pretty far south at the time. Now when I tell folks I’m from D.C., they say, “Oh, a Yankee!” So I tell them that while I worked in the city, I actually lived in the suburbs of Northern Virginia. It’s below the Mason-Dixon Line. But to the locals here in Georgia, that’s still Yankee territory. It’s all relative.

Now, in all fairness, the climate in Washington isn’t the greatest either — especially in the summer. It’s hot and humid (though usually about ten degrees cooler than here). But it does have four seasons. While fall arrives a little later than in New Hampshire, it does show up, and the trees do change color when the nights turn chilly.

Here in Georgia, spring and fall each last about three days. I really miss the cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin in April, and snuggling into the sweaters and vests in October.

I’m truly not crazy about the climate here, you know.

Winter usually brings at least one or two good snow events to the D.C. area. Of course, they play havoc with the traffic, but there’s nothing prettier than the National Mall — stretching west to east from the Washington Monument, past the Lincoln Memorial, and on to the U.S. Capitol — covered in snow.

They don’t know snow in Georgia. I’m told it did snow once, about five or six years ago. All hell broke loose, of course, but it melted within a day or two. They still talk about it a lot . . . the way San Franciscans talk about the 1906 earthquake.

But mostly what gets to me are the extremes. Washington doesn’t get a lot of hurricanes, and the ones that do hit there are generally already on the downslide. I recall a time when tornados were unheard-of there. Climate change has brought a few to the area, but most of the tornado watches just fizzle out. Thunderstorms are common in the summer, but if you don’t stand under a tree or out in the middle of a golf course with a hunk of metal in your hand, you should be just fine.

Here, every storm — and they’re almost a daily event in the summer — brings with it a good chance of a tornado or two. And the heat? Well, let’s just say that no one has to pay to have a sauna built into their home; every home is already in one gigantic, outdoor sauna.

Have I mentioned yet that I really, really hate the climate here? I have? Too bad.

Anyway, this will probably be my only posting on Friday’s blog; I’ll be busy making sure my emergency pack contains everything I’ll need while we wait for the helicopter to come pick us up from the roof as the house floats down I-95.

But I’ll be back in touch as soon as I can recharge my phone. Which reminds me: Did I pack that charger?

Gotta run now . . .

Brendochka
9/27/24

P.S. In case I forgot to mention it, about the climate here . . . Yeah, yeah, I know. Enough already.

Just lost power — 11:40 p.m. Thursday. Not in direct path, but even the outer fringes are pretty strong here in southern Georgia. May as well turn in early and save batteries. Good night, all, and stay safe.

Brendochka

9/26/24

Sounds like the title of a Carl Reiner sequel to “The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming,” doesn’t it?

I wish it were. But unfortunately, it’s more like this:

It’s the Russians again, all right; but it’s not funny. It’s the Cold War, 21st Century version. And it’s already a hot war in Ukraine, and threatening to spread. Because Vladimir Putin won’t be satisfied with just Ukraine.

Ignoring the fact — so obvious to everyone in the world above the age of three — that it was he who invaded Ukraine . . . not once, but twice, in 2014 and 2022 . . . he very quickly turned the West’s unexpected defensive support of Ukraine on its head, characterizing it as an offensive move against Russia.

And when his usual blustering didn’t frighten the NATO members into submission, he dragged out the old nuclear threat. And at first the world basically said, “Really? Again?”

Well, now he’s taken it a step further. Russia’s existing protocol on the use of nuclear weapons, established in 2020, provides for such use in the event of a nuclear attack by an enemy or a conventional attack “when the very existence of the state is in jeopardy.” [Al Jazeera, September 26, 2024.]

But now, Putin says, a revision to the doctrine is being considered that would provide for clearer, more specific conditions for the use of nuclear weapons:

“Conditions for Russia’s move to use nuclear weapons are clearly stated [in the revisions]. We will consider such a possibility when we receive reliable information about a massive launch of air and space attack assets and them crossing our state border . . . [specifically citing] strategic and tactical aircraft, cruise missiles, drones, hypersonic and other flying vehicles.” [Id.]

In other words, stay out of our yard, or we’ll nuke your house.

And now, with the war in Ukraine in its third year, and neighboring countries increasingly on alert, NATO has begun planning for the possible need to transport large numbers of wounded troops in the event of a war with Russia, potentially by way of hospital trains if air evacuations become unfeasible. [Sabine Siebold, Reuters, September 25, 2024.]

NATO has been working toward improving its ability to “deter and defend against any Russian assault” since the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine. [Id.] Those preparations are now being ramped up in light of the Kremlin’s increased level of threats.

It’s beginning to feel more and more like sixty years ago. And it doesn’t feel good.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/26/24

She comes up with this beauty:

Meet . . . well, I don’t think she has a name. In fact, I’m not even sure it’s a “she,” but it kind of looks like one. So let’s just assume it is, and call her Babe. We do know that she’s from the Taklamakan Desert in northwest China, and that she’s about 3,600 years old. And the reason we know her age is from . . . get ready . . . the cheese that was found around her head and neck — perhaps, as surmised by the experts, as a snack for the afterlife.

Really.

Oddly, scientists seem to be more interested in the cheese than in the mummified remains of the newly-discovered Xiaohe people. I’m not even clear on how they can be sure it is cheese, and not some disgusting blob of . . . well, whatever. But they are; and they say their studies will “show the way humans harnessed microbes to improve their food and how microbes can be used to track cultural influences through the ages.” [Katie Hunt, CNN, September 25, 2024.]

While I can certainly see the importance of those studies in relation to the future preservation of the Earth’s food supply, I’m not a scientist. I’d be much more interested in knowing where she got that hat.

*. *. . *

And while we’re digging into the past — literally — let’s talk about this big fellow — a woolly rhino who has been preserved in the Russian permafrost for more than 32,000 years, and was found with its skin and fur still intact. The paper published in the journal Doklady Earth Sciences also revealed that the woolly rhino had a large fatty hump on its back and that its fur changed color as it grew older. [Issy Ronald, CNN, September 25, 2024.]

Actually, everyone I know over the age of 75 complains about the same thing, so perhaps we homo sapiens are distantly related to the woolly rhino and just never knew it.

I’m sure the scientists who have been working on this unique find know what they’re doing. But looking at the artist’s rendering above, I can’t help wondering whether they might accidentally have stumbled upon the remains of former Communist Party General Secretary Leonid Brezhnev. All he needs is the horns:

*. . *. . *

Now from the ridiculous to the merely amusing, a new study has found that the octopus — normally a solitary creature — can actually work with other fish to hunt. And if the fish-assistants don’t work hard enough, the octopus will punch them to get them moving. [CNN, September 25, 2024.]

That’s clearly harassment. But I guess there’s no such thing as OSHA at the bottom of the sea. Too bad, little fishies.

*. *. . *

And finally, this one simply scares the bejeezus out of me. It has nothing to do with any form of animal life, but takes place several billion light years from Earth, in one of those terrifying black hole things.

This rendering is said to illustrate “massive jets of material shooting from a black hole [that] dwarf even the largest galaxies.” [Ashley Strickland, CNN, September 25, 2024.]

Holy crap!

Again, this is advanced science, so I can’t pretend to comprehend what these things mean. But the report speaks of such terrors as a “megastructure [that] spans 23 million light-years in length, making these black hole jets the largest ever seen.” And: “Black holes are viewed as the garbage disposals of the universe, gobbling up nearly everything that comes close to them.” [Id.]

Okay, I want to know: Just how close is “close”? Or maybe I don’t want to know . . . not about that, or any of the rest of the report. I’m already dreading falling asleep tonight; this is a nightmare just waiting to happen.

Thanks a lot, Ma Nature. I liked it better when we knew less about you.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/26/24

That’s what they are — those people who call themselves Members of the U.S. Congress. They’re Grinches.

Both houses yesterday passed yet another budget stopgap bill, just four days before the end of the fiscal year. And they are no doubt congratulating themselves for averting a shutdown of the government.

Well, hold the congratulations, folks. Because what they’ve really done is ruin Christmas . . . yet again. This week’s action just carries us to December 20th, which means another knock-down-drag-out fight over what to keep and what to slash from the proposed budget. And if they can’t pass it in time, and the majority of government workers get sent home just before Christmas, and their salaries get held back until they return to work, then . . .

It’s not a pretty picture, is it? And it’s even uglier when you think about the fact that those very Members of Congress who created the problem will continue to be paid without interruption, because their compensation is guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution. And changing that would require a Constitutional amendment, which would have to be ratified by . . . any guesses? . . . right you are:

Both houses of Congress.

WHAT??!!!

You read me correctly. Some people may not realize that, but it’s true. Check it out. It’s Article I, Section 6, Clause 1, and the 27th Amendment. And if your Senator or Congressperson is running for reelection this year, you might want to find out how they voted on the budget yesterday before checking that box on the ballot in November.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/26/24

Boy, some people really know how to take the joy out of life.

Beautiful, isn’t it? But it’s also turbulent, a little frightening: the artistic outpouring of a tortured soul. It is a priceless work of art, hanging in New York’s Museum of Modern Art for all to see, for each to interpret in his or her own way.

Or is it, instead, a depiction of “the mathematical structure of turbulent flow”? [Katie Hunt, CNN, September 19, 2024.]

What was that again? What on earth is “turbulent flow”?

Well, damned if I know. After reading Ms. Hunt’s rather lengthy, very informative article on the subject, I have no clearer understanding of the concept than I had before. Science is not my thing. In fact, I had never before even heard the term.

And I wish I hadn’t heard it now, because it has altered the way I look at Van Gogh’s masterpiece — in fact, all of his works. I don’t think that art should be viewed from a scientific point of view, which is apparently what some physicists in China and France have done with this particular painting.

As described in the article:

“As a common natural phenomenon observed in fluids — moving water, ocean currents, blood flow, billowing storm clouds and plumes of smoke — turbulent flow is chaotic, as larger swirls or eddies, form and break down into smaller ones.

”It may appear random to the casual observer, but turbulence nonetheless follows a cascading pattern that can be studied and, at least partially, explained using mathematical equations.” [Id.]

The article goes on to explain more of the study headed by one Yongxiang Huang of Xiamen University, China, and how,

“Using a digital image of the painting, Huang and his colleagues examined the scale of its 14 main whirling shapes to understand whether they aligned with physical theories that describe the transfer of energy from large- to small-scale eddies as they collide and interact with one another.” [Id.]

Enough!! I don’t want to know how they “precisely measured the brushstrokes and compared the size of the brushstrokes to the mathematical scales expected from turbulence theories,” or that “they used the relative brightness or luminance of the varying paint colors.” [Id.]

The article goes on to discuss the “fluctuations in a flow’s speed and the rate at which its energy dissipates,” as described in the 1940s by Soviet mathematician Andrey Kolmogorov’s theory of turbulence. And something about weather forecasting; the “plasma between galaxies”; “algae blooms being swept around by ocean currents, or dust and particulates in the air”; and the Great Red Spot on the planet Jupiter.

I’m sure that is all fascinating — and possibly even of some scientific importance — to experts in the various fields of science. But to me, it is a joy-killer.

All I want to do is lose myself in The Starry Night in all of its dark beauty. Don McLean knew what he was doing when he wrote the haunting music and lyrics to the immortal “Vincent.” That, to my mind, is how you pay tribute to a work of art and its creator.

The next thing you know, someone will be telling us that Mona Lisa’s smile is crooked, indicating the probability that she suffered from some debilitating illness. And I definitely do not want to know that.

Just sayin . . .

Brendochka
9/25/24

Meet Pesto, the celebrity king penguin from the Sea Life Melbourne Aquarium in Australia. His keepers describe him as a “walking feathery poop machine” . . . but that’s not why he’s famous. It’s his size.

I love penguins — all penguins — and this big fellow has really stolen my heart. He’s just six months old, and it seems that, at three feet tall, he’s already looking down at his dad. The average height of a full-grown king penguin — the second-largest breed of penguin next to the emperor — is anywhere from 28 to 39 inches, usually reached at 14 to 16 months of age. So Pesto has at least another 10 months of growth to look forward to, and he’s already within three inches of the usual maximum height.

He’s also a voracious eater, already consuming twice as much as the average adult, and currently weighs in at about 50 pounds — some 10 pounds above the average adult range of 21 to 40 pounds. And with all of that food comes a lot of work for the keepers, since penguins poop every 15 minutes. (Kind of like prepping for a colonoscopy . . . every single day of your life.)

Some of his bulk is feathers, which he will lose when he fledges and achieves that “tuxedo” look; but he’ll always be the biggest kid on the ice block.

All I can say is, that must have been some gigantic egg his parents had to take turns sitting on for nearly two months! And just the thought of momma laying it . . . Well, never mind; it’s too painful to contemplate.

One of his keepers has said that he has already started losing some of his baby feathers, and will soon be starting his swimming lessons with his dad. “Sometimes they become quite independent teenagers, so maybe he’s ready for his bad boy phase,” she said. [Lilit Marcus, CNN, September 22, 2024.]

I say, hand that bad boy a basketball and get him on the neighborhood team. Give him a nickname like Shaq or Magic, and teach him to dribble and shoot. Might as well put that height to good use.

When he isn’t busy pooping, that is.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/25/24

I know what writer’s block feels like . . . I’ve been through a recent bout of it myself. Staring at that blank screen, hour after hour. Searching the internet for fascinating news items; searching my brain for amusing memories to pass along in the hope that others will find them interesting. And nothing clicks.

Can that also happen to people who speak, rather than write, for a living or a pastime?

Could the always eloquent Dmitry Peskov — the adorable front man for the Kremlin leadership — be running out of new ways to say . . . well, anything?

Or maybe he just didn’t have time to come up with something fresh and new to start the week when asked on Tuesday whether the Russian government might be thinking of altering its stance on nuclear arms control. Instead, this is what he had to offer:

“Please re-listen and re-read the statements that the president has made on this issue — I mean on the topic of possible permission for the use of Western weapons deep into the territory of Russia. The statement that the president made in St. Petersburg. The position of the Russian Federation is very clearly stated there.” [Dmitry Antonov and Guy Faulconbridge, Reuters, September 24, 2024.]

The statement to which he was referring was one made by Vladimir Putin on September 12th:

“If this decision [on missiles] is taken, it will mean nothing less than the direct involvement of NATO countries, the United States and European countries in the war in Ukraine. this will be their direct participation, and this, of course, will significantly change the very essence, the very nature of the conflict.” [Id.]

Perhaps there was just no better way to say it. Some words are so clear, so memorable, so eternal in their message, they cannot be improved upon — such as Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, Mark Antony’s speech at Caesar’s funeral, Lady Macbeth’s mad scene, or Nikita Khrushchev’s incomparable “We will bury you.”

Or perhaps Dmitry suddenly recalled his boss’ use of the word “war” in that statement on September 12th, and was anxious to change the subject lest someone ask what happened to the “special military operation.”

Whatever the reason, I am quite sure our ever-dependable Dmitry Peskov will be back with more of his famous bon mots in short order.

Looking forward to hearing from you as always, Dima.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/25/24

This message is addressed to presidential candidate Donald J. Trump and his entire campaign staff, but especially to his publicity team. For all other readers, it’s just for laughs.

PLEASE NOTE: There are two Georgias.

One is right here in the southeastern corner of the United States, just north of Florida: the great State of Georgia. Its capital is Atlanta. This Georgia figured prominently in both the U.S. Revolutionary War and the U.S. Civil War. Jimmy Carter lives here. I also live here. It is very pretty — lots of Spanish moss hangin’ from the live oak trees. It is also known for its fantastic peaches and peanuts, and a lot of genuinely nice people. What it doesn’t have is real winter weather. But no place is perfect.

The “other” Georgia is an actual country. It has a much older history than the U.S. Georgia, is located in the Caucasus Mountains of Europe, and borders on Russia, Turkey, Armenia, Azerbaijan, and the Black Sea. Its capital is Tbilisi (you don’t have to pronounce the “T”). It so happens that I have visited there, and I have a good friend who is from there, so I know the difference. It is also very beautiful, but in a more rugged, free-spirited way. And they speak a whole different language, with a whole different alphabet. It would be difficult to mistake it for the U.S. Georgia.

But somehow, Donald Trump — or his publicity team — did just that, posting a new ad for his campaign with a picture of “Georgia” — but the wrong one:

Analysis of the photo has shown that it is a stock image of the views of Upper Svaneti in the Caucasus Mountains of northwestern Georgia (the country). [Cameron Henderson, The Telegraph (UK), September 23, 2024.]

Okay, it’s a little thing, and some would say it’s not worth mentioning. But for a bunch of people who play fast and loose with the truth on a regular basis, it’s just one more indication of their general disregard for facts.

And it’s really irritating to the people of Georgia . . . both Georgias! So, it’s bad for the campaign, and bad for international relations.

In closing, to the researchers and/or writers responsible for this particular boo-boo, a word of advice: Google is only as good as the information you feed it in your questions. Details, people. Details.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/24/24