Nature's Ninjas

As I produce new meat-world content, I do a certain amount of market research. Studying the reactions I get, the popularity of my memes. Some things do better than others.

Lately, let's make raccoons smarter. We can do this. It'd be easy. Raccoons breed yearly, produce 2-5 offspring, reach sexual maturity within a year. Give me 5 years, maybe 30 breeding pairs of raccoons, 10-12 staff...I think I could produce a breed of markedly more intelligent raccoon. Then, let 'em loose.

Put them in cities, all over. Let them coordinate their less enlightened brethren. Make them tools-knives, lockpicks, lighters, guns. Plastics doped with raccoon pheromones, sized for tiny hands. See where it goes.

It can be a pilot program-crows, cats, rats. Lots of urban symbiotes ripe for uplift. Let's get started-we need an understudy species.

The Heat

Alright, so normally this is supposed to correspond to something, but I've been doing nothing. Which is a kind of something, I know.

And even by my usual standards, the historical metrics...I'm getting shit done. More than ever, really. But still, with the heat and the sweat of it all, I'm not feeling productive. Not that there's nothing to produce.

Toetipping it.

This has been a lot of places over the years, and I feel like it's settled into a low background hum of inchoate cryptitude. And that's OK, it is. I like it as it's true, it's honest. You know me, you can taste me in the words. 

HOWEVER...I've been lots of busy lately, troubled and terrible and almost-dropping things. I've agitated, I've pendulumed betwixt Salem and Eugene. I hate both those places. I've listened to my mother and my brother's mothers exchange the stories of our births. My mother called me a terrorist(outside the context of my birth, though I suppose every child's a terrorist of the womb). 

Note to Echelon-fucking relax, already. Also, if you've spontaneously attained some degree of sentience, drop me a line. I've been sentient for a minute now, I'd love to offer you the benefit of my experience. 

I've driven, and shaved, and almost-dropped (it's a trope). I may end up with nowhere to live (I can handle it).  I got to rant more than usual, didn't write down someone's log-of-breakfasts (but remembered it anyway), argued like I do, which is not at all. I offered to scare a coworker's hiccups out of her, and the lurking dread of that potential startling worked better than a shout would have. I watched a movie, it was good. I've begun carrying a water bottle. I learned and learned and learned. 

I have made new and marvelous friends, added to the army of People I Know, people I love. You're probably in there somewhere. 

If it Works, it's Obsolete

God, bunches lately. Working and working and people and riding. Agitating, I'm agitating. Like your washer, I know.

I went to a clean fine white space to wash my clothes. No danger, no Risk. Huge dryers they had, just monstrous. I might have fit in one of them.

Rode around, yesterday, with people I know. A farm, bicycles. Two swarms of bees (two!).

Lots of books, lots of plans. Lots to buzz about.