SRF Heavy Industries

If any of you are wondering what happened to the alarmist/political stuff that used to happen here once or twice a day not too long ago, it’s not just that I don’t have much time to write. The actuality is that the populace in general seems to have gotten the message.

Gitmo Bad. Bush Administration Bad. Iraq War doomed. Iran War ludicrous. War on Terror risible. Healthcare system collapsing. Mortgage crisis too late to fix.

All the buildings on the block are on fire, yes, but by now everyone knows.

Master Knows about the Danger, Lassie. Good Dog. Stop Barking.

Takes the pressure off a bit.

Meanwhile … there is no meanwhile. Every project I’m working on other than the wake-up-go-to-work-come-home-sleep project is on hold, waiting for … stuff that is in other people’s hands. Been waiting for months, have months more to wait.

It’s 100°F outside. The haze has become a rapist of throats and sinuses and lungs. It’s healthier, no kidding healthier, to filter every breath through a burning cigarette. The temperature speeds up the rate at which the chemicals in the air, particularly the ozone, does nasty things to you. If you suck that through actual fire, you at least know the ozone isn’t making it into your head and lungs. It also gives the carbon monoxide a better chance of being carbon dioxide, and similar things happen with all those spurious nitrous compounds. You can almost see a blueish tinge to the cigarette’s red glow…. It’s a shame about all that nicotine and tar and superheated particulate matter.

Today is, for any of a number of reasons, not the least of which included spending a few happy hours in communication with Dun and Bradstreet and filling out forms to allow access to federal funds/government contracts, a Good Migraine Day. Good for migraine, bad for head. But hey, now I know my DUNS number and I’ve certified my (corporate) identity well enough to accept federal grants and contracts.

It’s also apparently Giant Bug Season. On my desk right now is a dead stag beetle and a cicada, both in the two-inch-plus category. On the front window glass is a three-inch-plus katydid, about the size of last year’s kick-ass wheel bug. I had a coreid bug at the house for a while, but it’s laid eggs and died already. Two weeks ago I took pictures of a moth the size of my palm, but I have no idea what kind it was. Every year I get those huge black-and-yellow orb weaver spiders in my yard, but this year I’m down to one instead of my usual four or five.

Right now I’m hungry enough to consider eating the giant katydid.

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