#Ukraine #Russia #AI #DeepFake
#ICE going after "the worst of the worst."????
ICE Agents Careers Destroyed After Arresting Black Navy SEAL in His Driveway Without a Warrant
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RantWoman's comment on the post.
#ICE is going after "the worst of the worst"????? Really? No more #GOP blank check for lawless barbarism. If DHS needs $$$, get it from ICE. Way past time to demand professional Constitutional standards, judicial warrants, accountability AND fully funded legitimate path to legalization.
RantWoman has decided to post this video even though the story needs fact checking if only because of the timeline. #ICE was rotten to the core even before???
Dear Friends around the world,
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| RantMom, pre rapture and definitely looking better than the most recent previous version |
One of RantWoman's favorite stories about RantMom and Quakers:
Before RantMom moved permanently to Seattle, she came for visits and sometimes when to worship with RantWoman. During one such visit, someone RantWoman definitely considers a weighty Friend rose and gave a long message full of despair and concern.
RantWoman did not rush up after and ask some version of "Friend, how are you doing?" RantWoman does not know whether, hopefully, someone else reached out. RantWoman and RantMom headed out to the bus to connect with Little Sister. On the bus, RantMom said at her church, someone would definitely have reached out to someone who expressed that much despair, perhaps with some Bible citations. RantMom asked what would be the norm about a message like that among Quakers.
RantWoman demurred: the Friend who gave the message has a master's degree in theology and sometimes taught Bible study. Plus, RantWoman said "Well, a lot of Quakers think God can handle the questions."
RantMom said "I am so glad you found the Quakers."
Tentative coordinates for memorial
Saturday March 21, 2 pm at Rainier Beach Presbyterian church
Rainier Beach Presbyterian Church
or on the chur's Facebook page
Special thank you to Rocky, honorary death doula
With NO apologies to Sylvester Stallone, this Rocky is a CVERY personable black cat who outlived a previous resident at the extremely caring and conscientious Adult Family Home where RantMom spent the very last days of her life. Rocky is an average domestic shorthair. He has thin legs and a solid torso. Based on a report from Little Sister that it took him two tries to get all the way onto RantMom's bed, he probably is also elderly.
Sleeping with cats WOULD NOT OCCUR previously in RantMom's life. RantMom said that on the farm where she grew up, perhaps one white cat would live indoors and other barn cats would not come to the house. Mr. Tuxedo, the RantFamily's childhood cat always slept on old towels under the bottom shelf of the pantry. Later, after all the kids had moved out, RantMom inherited a scruffy medium-haired mix who drooled when petted and would not have been allowed on RantMom's bed.
So, if anything were going to make RantMom sit up bolt upright on her deathbed and bellow "Absolutely not," probably having a cat jump up and settle between her legs. A hospice nurse said that hospice patients do sometimes sit bolt upright and express extreme displeasure. We, RantWoman, Little Sister, Nephew made sure RantMom heard us acknowledge that cat comfort in bed would definitely be something unusual for RantMom.
We also decided to trust that the cat could recognize someone who needed comfort that beloved humans could not provide.
RantWoman will now return to news of many turbulent events, with advice that seems to make sense: "PACE the rage."
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| From a perfect timing text message |
As RantWoman was heating up supper, Little Sister called with the news. Moe a lovely gifted aide went in to check on RantMom after RantWoman left. He couldn't find a pulse.
"Well done good and faithful servant."
There will be a memorial, at Rainier Beach Presbyterian Church and probably on Facebook.
Youngest Cousin instructed rantMom to send love to all the family she will meet in heaven.
One more thing: Oh, those wacky RantParents. They "departed to other realms" exactly 30 years and 6 months apart and both on the 18th of the month.
Google Gemini has been "blessing" RantWoman with efforts to summarize email.
Does RantWoman WANT any random AI to learn the terminology of different religious traditions?
Will AI conversant in the language of different religious traditions boil the spiritual guidance out of the AI offerings?
Will it make it way to easy to generate deep fakes???
Enquiring minds are not even sure we want to know but since AI is definitely the fashion, we take note.
Also a RantWoman post on X in response to reading about how taxpayer investment in basic research and then in Google has generate over 1000 views, a substantial increase over RantWoman's average number of views, frequently in the low 10's or hundreds, RantWoman invites further meditation on the phrase "soulless SLOP."
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| Image from High Mowing Organic Seed Company |
As luck and providence would have it, RantMom and Nasturtiums in Salad Friend lived in the same retirement community for a number of years including the years of #pandemic lockdown. Nasturtiums in Salad gardening proclivities were still going strong, though not on quite as grand a scale as when Nasturtiums in Salad Friend was working on a composting toilet project at the large community garden where she devoted a lot of time.
Nasturtiums in Salad Friend also continued her lifelong gift for growing community by creating space for people to make beaded jewelry, napkin rings, and other craft products in the retirement community where RantMom also lived. This fact makes RantWoman smile, all the more since Nasturtiums in Salad Friend evoked the kind of patient confidence that carried RantMom through the adventure of making a set of napkin rings in spite of RantMom's fingers not working well for quite a while.
RantMom's body has reached a point beyond the reach of magic wands to fix all that is not working. Today, after two rough days of changes, RantMom's hands flutter as if she is trying to do something though RantWoman cannot tell what. Maybe in addition to Christ among us here and now, there is an afterlife where both lovers of flowers can garden freely with no more pain and joyful results.
(Readers who are missing RantWoman's recent threads of vids about abundant "makes one's head explode" news items and trenchant commentary are invited to use your own dang search engines for now. RantWoman is accumulating lots of things in Drafts that may or may not get posted. Live rants often available along with piquant narrative about matters more personal)
For the record, RantMom has been at the rehab now for TWENTY EIGHT DAYS and only today did Little Sister see big signs over RantMom's bed saying "Liquid thickened with fruit pulp and finely minced or chopped meat" and "One on one feeding." RantWoman did not see the signs yesterday and Little Sister assures RantWoman that the signs are Neon and hard to miss even with RantWoman's bad eyes. If this actually occurs this would be a WELCOME variant from the too spice sausages and meat too tough for someone with dental partials to chew.
Previous visitations from the dietician have brough spinach which RantMom apparently ate with enthusiasm and during one of RantWoman's visits a GIANT pile of cooked carrots and some kind of mystery casserole. The aide came in and fed RantMom about two bites. RantMom sweetly wanted to share with RantWoman and RantWoman induced RantMom to eat about one more bite of carrot but declined to share on multiple grounds.
That day RantMom had eaten part of a piece of pie before RantWoman came. While RantWoman was there, RantMom at one point thought about eating more but did not ask to have the head of the bed raised. Using the fork was not working so RantWoman at one point moved the paper plate with the rest of the pie to where RantMom could reach it. RantMom ate a good bit more of it with her hands.
RantMom at the rehab has, for a time, sometimes trying to feed herself. Little Sister pointed out that there is supposed to be a bib each day, but the bib does not get put on and RantWoman did not even know it was there. Other times she was asking for help and the help was in a hurry. RantMom has been eating slowly and not big portions for a long time even before the latest rounds of "health care." RantMom has enthusiastically accepted both offers to be fed by family and offers of small servings of treats like roast yam and cranberry sauce. RantWoman happened to be visiting a grocery store that had several flavors of fruit mush packets to have on hand. Yesterday, after RantWoman figured out how to get the dang thing opened, RantMom drank about 2/3 of a packet, so keep a supply of those.
RantWoman's food rant is part of a long thread of opportunities to beat oneself about not paying attention to LOTS of things. At the same time, after the second most recent trip to a hospital for IV antibiotics, RantMom disclosed that she has a DNR and gave RantWoman a copy of her POLST form, something to digest along with RantMom making excuses about not going to PT, falling asleep a lot, not always making it to meals... There would also be previous cycles of doing better after antibiotics, only to slump again. RantWoman is definitely grappling with the reality that RantMom's body is not in great shape even before getting dumped rambling incoherently at the Rehab.
RantWoman is also wondering whether having the DNR on file, along with excuses about poor staffing over the holidays affected how people interacted with RantMom, even before one takes into account incentives from Medicare Advantage. In other words, RantWoman is having no trouble finding reasons just to be spitting nails.
For a while after the latest infection cleared and RantMom was getting IV fluids instead of antibiotics, RantMom was doing MUCH better. Speech therapy is making a difference and her speech is MUCH more intelligible. Some of the time she is coherent but that comes and goes. RantWoman is unclear how much the doctor has explained to RantMom about all the bodily systems that are running very thin. RantMom also has bleeding from something in her urinary tract so she is anemic. Little Sister and RantWoman have both declined suggestions about blood transfusions but have made sure RantMom is getting an iron supplement.
So where are we after all of the above "give us this day our daily bread" exposition?
A couple days ago, RantMom said she wishes someone would tell her whether she will ever walk again. RantWoman was stilled from temptation to say "Well, if you eat better and drink your fluids and do your PT, maybe." Reality: PT exhausted RantMom when she went at it. RantWoman also did not soummon the words to say "well you're going to be walking with Jesus and we don't know where that is going to take you," more or less what her pastor said at her last visit.
Funny moment: neither RantMom nor RantWoman when she arrived while the pastor was visiting recognized the pastor. Turns out, the pastor's hair bleaches out a lot in the summertime, so it's not just a cognition test.
And speaking of the pastor, she is familiar with the Adult family home where RantMom is headed. Previously a parishioner had spent a good length of time there. The building is owned by a nearby Greek Orthodox church. This sounds lovely--well, except for the priest who needed to fly over one day and lecture the pastor about being a woman minister.
Lord help us all.
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