Soft breezes and heavy-heat this late-afternoon Tuesday in California’s Central Valley, supposedly 94-degrees right now with nearly three hours of daylight left.
Somewhere in the low-80s by dark– tomorrow starts a two-day hot flash: temperatures Wednesday and Thursday reportedly in triple-digits.
Hot flashes weather, metaphorically speaking.
Those light-yellow flowers top-left of the photo shown, I was informed today, are ‘oleander plants’ (Nerium oleander), and I should act accordingly –backyard of my daughter’s apartment, and she’d already cut them back twice. Just don’t eat them, they do have attractive blooms, however.
Air feels heavy — after nearly six months living in the Valley (coming from Humboldt County) I’ve come understand higher temperatures equals heavier air.
Actual weather ‘hot flashes’ can be handled, though, your body adjusts and you adjust (and AC), that’s summer. Those other ‘hot flashes’ off political/social heat are morphing into a full-bodied movement not seen ever, a flashback hot flash of mass protest in the streets, yet with a vivid 2020 quality.
The horrid murder of George Floyd has exploded the planet, not just in the US. Shit happening all over this country is a potboiler — now in its eighth day, and the national mood is against the police, and the T-Rump, despite all the stunts, bullshit and swagger. Protests in just about all the big cities coast-to-coast, and small ones, too. And from indications, participants in these protests are diverse, white, black, Latino, a vast-majority clamoring for social justice, and to put a guard on the engine that’s drives police.
Watershed events to be sure, bound to shift living situations, and weird in a shitty way, these protests are the second pop this year that’s going to end-up changing layout of the land. The coronavirus seemingly has taken a step out of the limelight for a spell, despite it still killing — 108,059 dead in the US from COVID-19 as of today.
Social media has really opened up the system, allowing shit scenes to be transmitted near-instantaneously to just about everybody. The clip of the George Floyd atrocity sickened the world.
And making matters so much-more worse is the T-Rump. Yesterday he tried to provide his own video clip of the situation, his own take on himself. (h/t tengrain)
Well, we all predicted it, don’t know why we should be shocked. https://t.co/jq8IKO3Qdw
— Tengrain 6-feet-away-or-6-feet-under (@Tengrain) June 2, 2020
Yet we are shocked in a way, like looking at a weird-ass parade of one fucking-crazy asshole and a shitload of dupes and chickenshit turds, a surreal movie clip pure-laughable except for the extreme danger. And the absolute, tomfoolery of the entire walking escapade. Idiotic. Near-insane, near-unimaginable on its face.
Yet there it be, an old black-and-white Twilight Zone episode in a panic of color, superimposed on a scene from a really strange zombie installment of the West Wing.
And what the shit about the sixth mass extinction of wildlife on earth is accelerating?
‘Six o’clock. TV hour.
Don’t get caught in foreign tower.’
(Illustration: Pablo Picasso’s ‘Seated Pierrot,’ found here).