Oh, cat, don't fly away again. My head's killing me.

In exile again! The county has been repaving the roads in our area, and it feels like it's taking forever (it's not, it started in December & is about done). I'm horribly inconvenienced today, as there are NO PARKING 7AM-5PM signs all along Selborne Drive, so I'm currently in the Hayward Peet's, happily at the highly-valued table in the corner. There's a fascinating conversation going on at the next table, two women talking about the delivery of city services, and all the obstacles they have to doing it properly. I'm loving it! Right-wingers sneer at women like them, but these gals are actually getting stuff done!

Not right now, of course, they're at Peet's. But in general. Which is sort of why I'm in exile.

This and some other things have me thinking about right-wing nut jobs (hereafter RWNJ's) -- my breakfast encounter during last week's exile, stuff that pops up on my Facebook feed (I don't have any RWNJs in my friends list, but my friends do, so I get a light sampling of crazy). This one struck my fancy:



A standard line with Climate Deniers is "back in the 1970s, scientists thought there was Global Cooling!" And, yes, the rapid rise in atmospheric temperatures that went on from 1900 to 1940 did stall for 40 years, and a few scientists posited that things were going to chill. Most scientists didn't think that, but a few reporters talked to the minority-opinion guys, and RWNJs have been flogging one Newsweek article ever since. So this is where the Time cover is from, right?

Nope. It's a fake.

Which means somebody went to the trouble to mock up a magazine cover and spread it around in the Wingnutosphere, where it seems to have been accepted uncritically. I can see the acceptance; it's easy to buy into things that support what you want to be true, that's human nature, whatever wing you're on. But the person who made the mockup was deliberately lying. She (or he) knew that it was a lie... but was happy to spread it anyway. Now, that seems to me a very Right Wing, Fox News thing -- knowing that you're spreading a lie, but feeling ratified if it's believed.

Or it was a hoaxter who was just having fun. Yeah, that explanation lets me think better of people in general, so I'll go with that.

I'm in San Diego right now while my Mom recovers from surgery -- I'm staying with my Dad, offering to help him with whatever, but he doesn't really need much help (we'll leave his political illness to the side, as it is incurable). I did replace some light bulbs today. I was abducted by my sister-in-law for a few hours, got to join her and her friends for a little klatch-type behavior. Also shopping, and visiting Mom at the hospital, and such.

But the best encounter of the day was a surprise. Doorbell rings around 10:30am -- I am expecting it to be two of Mom's friends come by to see how she was. One tall woman, one short. Both carrying books. Leather-bound books.

"You don't know us," says the tall one (no duh!), "but we just wanted to stop by and share with you a few verses from Psalm..." oh, heck, I don't remember what number Psalm it was.

I smile as she reads the verses, something that ends with a happy image of abundance and peace. "Abundance and peace," I quote back at her, "that sounds wonderful," deliberately ignoring the part before that about sending enemies into the Shadow or something. I thank them for sharing, and they go on their way.

You know what I'm struck by, thinking back on the meeting? I didn't use any of those zingers we all store up for door-to-door proselytizers -- I didn't even think any of them. I was just happy to share her happiness at sharing her message with a stranger. Not enough happiness in this world, I say.

Look! They even have extenders for the fat girls!

at BOSF game night, from a handsome fellow rooting through the Pretty Pretty Princess equipment

UPDATE: I didn't win. Upon returning home, however, I found myself to be still wearing the purple bracelet. Oh, the shame.

I got on at Lafayette, as did a nerdy IT type who was playing with his iPhone; as, also, did a direct-from-central-casting aging salon owner, dressed all in black, dyed black hair, his jowly face bearing the scars from years of trying to look young and beautiful.

This is understandable, as he clearly once looked like Tony Curtis.

The young Tony Curtis. The guy did look kind of like Tony Curtis does now.

The Salon Owner in Black used the iPhone as an excuse to talk to the nerd, and NEVER STOPPED TALKING the whole time. I couldn't hear much of it, as a group of teen lunatics got on and took turns screaming the names of their favorite sandwiches. But, through the din, I heard the Salon Owner in Black say...

"I'm going all bean next year. This is no joke. I'm going all bean."

??????????

I mean, seriously, WTF?

...unless he's also the Organic Farmer in Black. That's a possibility.

Overheard while walking in the company of bestbear_icanbe up Church Street to Andy's Sparky's for dinner before going to see the amazing Jungle Red at the Victoria Theatre:

"When a straight man with a faceful of makeup gives you the fisting sign, you know it's a good day."