JamesSavik

Eating summer drupes off the tree is not without hazards. Plums and peaches are a natural laxative.

At least I got the King Cake. (AI-generated image of my cats playing with Mardi Gras beads)

Musketeers were soldiers armed with muskets and play a transitional role in infantry combat between infantry armed with traditional melee weapons and the first generation of firearms. They were the precursor to riflemen, which began to appear around the 1850s with the arrival of mass-produced firearms. Muskets were difficult weapons to wield in the early days. Muskets were built by hand by craftsmen, and were expensive and not standardized. They were notoriously cranky to use, and rain could make some muskets completely useless. They had to be hand loaded, which took time and left the musketeer vulnerable. Musketeers were known for carrying additional infantry weapons like lances and swords. The first military units purpose built around the musket appeared in the armies of the Chinese Song Dynasty in the 12th century. As muskets spread, formations of these soldiers began to appear in India, and Europe. The most famed musketeers were formed by Louis the XIII of France in 1622. The iconic British Redcoats were essentially musketeers until their muskets were replaced by rifles.

As of this writing, the Agricultural Colonies of Evergreen, New Turin, Ukrainia, Silesia, Moskava, and Luzon have filed an official Article 100 request for representation in the Alliance Senate. Who do they think they are? They are six worlds with populations exceeding five hundred million, with self-sufficient local economies and industry, and the infrastructure required by Alliance law of a Class 1 world. Furthermore, those worlds are the Alliance's breadbasket, feeding billions in the core worlds and beyond. The growth of those worlds is nothing short of explosive. Evergreen alone, despite its uniquely dangerous ecology, will pass one billion citizens before the end of the fiscal year. Who do these colonials think they are? They are the pioneers and their decedents who took these empty worlds and built them from the ground up. They are geneticists who genegeneered the crops that feed billions. They are the farmers and ranchers who feed billions. Their accomplishments, energy, enterprise and vitality are nothing short of astonishing. Then why are they not represented in the Alliance Senate? That is a very dangerous question because the answer isn't what you've been told. No. They aren't immature societies. No. They aren't economically dependent on the core-worlds. No. Their beliefs may be old-fashioned, but they are by no means heretical. No. They are not inhabited completely by ignorant, bare-foot hicks. No. They aren't a threat to muh democracy. To answer the question of who do they think they are, they believe that they are part of a grand democratic institution called the Interstellar Alliance. They believe they are a part of the brotherhood of mankind. They are mistaken. For many years, the grand experiment in interstellar democracy called the Interstellar Alliance has been quietly becoming a Corpocracy. The sad truth is that the reason those worlds don't already have their own Senators is that no megacorp owns or controls those worlds. Were they to have senate delegations, this would dilute the solid block of votes of Core World own in the senate that allow that body to do anything its corporate masters want. If you want to know who truly threatens our democracy, you need only look towards the Core, the Corporations that have their seats on those worlds and the senators that they own. There's an old joke about senators should have to wear the patches of their corporate sponsors. Senator Harrison of Earth might as well have DESERD tattooed on his face. Bronson of Centauri B, should wear the logo of MilTech. It goes on and on. Regardless of party, philosophy or leaning, they are representing their corporate sponsors first, and the people last. When you hear the corporate shills denounce the colonial bumpkins, ask them to be sure they aren't speaking with their mouths full. The Colonials feed the core worlds, and that provides powerful leverage. All they need to do is stop shipments of their agricultural goods for a week, and the Core is in trouble. In two weeks, food inflation would be out of control. In a month, there would be food riots. This is a dangerous schism. Neither side can opt out. No one relinquishes power gladly or gracefully. The Alliance is headed for yet another crossroads. Will it live up to its own laws and seat a dozen new Colonial senators, or will it continue to find excuses to retain the whip hand? This issue isn't going away, and it needs to be settled soon. Much depends on this vote. These colonies aren't the only colonies that are watching. Will they too be disenfranchised from the highest levels of power when it is supposed to be their turn? What good is an Alliance that won't even follow its own rules? This, ladies and gentlemen, is the rub. Do we live by the rules set down by law, or continue to move the goalposts in favor of the powerful? Be careful how you answer because we're all going to have to live with the results.

The standard doctrine for reacting to an ambush depends on how close it is triggered. The reaction to a NEAR ambush, from point-blank out to thirty meters, is to assault through. Since you are already in contact, seize the initiative. The reaction to a FAR ambush, thirty meters and further out, is to stop, pin the enemy and flank him. Small unit tactics in these situations are brutally Darwinian. Now that it's possible to detect enemy concentrations with drones, the rules are changing as we watch the absolute mess that is playing out in Ukraine.

Cruiser by the Cars You comb the night 'cause you're a cruiser And ya you never get enough When you're cruisin' down the street And takin' off the heat When you're on the moonlight run

What some people call Ragweed, us southerners call Goldenrod. What my Grandmother called ragweed was actually Ageratum. I think the late summer/fall blooming Goldenrod is probably the public enemy #1 allergen.

Gab.ai and I usually use the anime filter.

The term "roll the bones" came from the old Norse tradition of performing augury via runes carved into bone - usually the horns of a great stag. Much was lost when Christianity was forced upon Scandinavia. Scrolls, books, epic sagas and artifacts of the old Gods were burned. No one alive today has the deep old knowledge of that tradition, culture and faith. It's a damn shame, for some of us with that blood often wonder what it was like.

While there are parts that probably need a coat of paint and some shingles, neither have I. Never have I ever had Tatts. Just not my thing.

Making the Team "This is the last time I'm going to trust you with being the lookout." "What's my next job? Poison taster?" "I needed a diversion and you were it. Thanks to you, we accomplished the mission, and everybody lived. Congratulations." Starch stood still as a statue while Top's[1] revelation made its way through his brain. The living part was a near thing. He had dozens of small cuts from rock fragments caused by near misses from automatic weapons fire.

My most odoriferous chore every week is changing the cat boxes. I do it on Friday, as the garbage truck comes by on Saturday morning.

Rebel Wright Here's the description I gave the AI image generator. To non-Southerners, the nickname Rebel is given to boys who are rowdy and/or a real rascal. The ones who can pull off both are formidable. Don't let his accent fool you. Sure, he's dumb. He's 15, but misunderestimate his capacity to steal your heart at your own risk. You will want to like him if he's not being a jerk. At the time of the story, it's the end of the school year, and he'll be a freshman in the fall. He's not a rocket scientist, and is still figuring out those pesky social skills. Count on him to say the wrong thing way too often. He started eight grade pissed off at the world. Nobody knew why until his parents' divorce was recorded in the county newspaper. Rebel took out his anger on numerous students who didn't deserve it, got in fights, and was suspended once. Some of his friends intervened and told him, OK we get it. You are pissed off about the divorce, but do you have to be an a-hole? One of the very kids Rebel was bullying reached out to him and invited him to join their study group. He's been having to grow up, and sometimes that's a bumpy ride.

Making the Team

There's a trail where I run where there are old and massive wisteria vines that have gotten so big they form a pergola over the trail at one point. If I can remember, I'll try to take a picture when it blooms.

Yeah, that big ole hunk of Norse deity is elusive. Legend has it, though, if you fight a heroic last stand, he'll lend you his strength. Norse deities are cool like that. Never have I ever fought with a war hammer (but I'm open to it. Skoal brothers.)

Charlie did better than I expected, but it's not over yet. I'm not sure how long he had been with Drew, but sometimes these things linger for a bit and can be triggered later by things like anniversaries or discovering old pictures. Grief is going to happen. It always does, but he's got support. Many times when we lose a partner, our whole lives are so connected, all you can do is leave town.

Glitches The wiring is bad, circuits incomplete, Impulses fire in the wrong directions, Down unfamiliar wires to a strange beat, Machine imperfection of broken connections. Spark and arid smoke, a pyre of malfunction, My stupid brain, a mess of dysfunction, Processor locked with its base code trashed, This is how the poor bastard crashed.

I'm thinking Fluffy needs an intervention.

I like to smush genres together and see what happens. I do this with my novel The Company, but I'm very subtle about it. It looks like the typical gay period romance, but there are clues here and there. You don't get the real picture until well into the novel. You won't get zombies or vampires, but there's magic everywhere. What happens when the curtains are drawn, and you can see past all the lies and deceptions? Especially the ones we tell ourselves.

I like to grow tomatoes, peppers (and watermelons when I have enough room). Never have I ever had fewer than six tomato plants during the summer growing season. (You can take the boy off the farm, but you can't take the farm out of the boy)

Stoke's Aster or Stokesia has been a favorite in Mississippi gardens for many decades. The clump in my backyard came from my grandmother's garden and originally from the old home place in Holmes county, so we can trace it back for a hundred and twenty years.