Stephen B. Bagley's Blog, page 3

A February Floozy For You!

 Here is your February Floozy!

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Here it is!

The tease is over! Here's the cover of the forthcoming Floozy Goes Forth in all its glory!

Happy Halloween!

 

Another Cover Tease!

 

Cover tease!

 

Cover Tease!

 A Floozy Goes Forth cover tease!

Up, down, middle

Life isn’t gangbusters of awesomeness usually. Life is what it is: sometimes up, sometimes down, a lot of time in the middle. It’s learning to live in the middle that so many of us find hard. We rise to the occasion when confronting a crisis or an emergency. We behave brilliantly, bravely, and benevolently. But it’s the day-to-day life that’s hard and grinds on us. Most people break at the endlessly getting out of bed each morning to confront life’s little annoyances and battles. That’s what we find tough. That’s how we know if we’re a sprinter or a long-distance runner.

I hope you’re the latter, because sprinters may be fast, but this life is long. It is the ones who can keep going, step by step, mile by mile, day by day, year by year... they finish the race. I hope I’m a long-distance runner.

I try to be. I try to stay busy. I try to keep putting one foot in front of another. Keep my eyes on the road. Don’t get distracted. Don’t lose focus. Don’t lose hope. Don’t lose courage. Don’t fail. Believe, believe, believe.

It’s a lot of pressure, and I think that’s why some people falter. They drink or take drugs or have crazy sex. They cheat on their spouses, neglect their children, and waste their lives seeking a thrill to fill the holes in their lives. They think happiness is a destination rather than the journey itself.

It’s learning to take joy in the journey. We have to do that if we’re going to survive and flourish. It’s the secret to happiness, contentment, and fulfillment. For some – like me – finding that joy is easier with God’s help. Others choose another path, but finding that path is essential.

It's how we become fully human. 

In the sky

Have you ever just taken a few minutes to watch the clouds drift across the sky? Some people see shapes... dragons, animals, horses cars... what they're looking for, I think. But I don't see anything. My imagination doesn't work like that. Instead, the sky fills me up until there's nothing of me left. No thoughts, no worries, no me. Just the clouds and winds and sun.

Starry nights do that to me, too. I can look into the darkness punctuated with pinpricks of lights, and the vastness inside me expands. It's a weird feeling ‒ or it is after I've stopped experiencing it ‒ but when I'm in the moment, it doesn't feel weird. It feels... expectant. Like I'm waiting for something to raise its head and look at me. You'd think that would be frightening, but it's not. It's anticipation. A strange anticipation.

I've mentioned this to other people before, but I've never met anyone who felt the same way. I'm sure someone does in this world with millions of people. Maybe in China or maybe just someone I don't know. Maybe in the next house. I'd like to meet them, though. I'd like to find out how they feel. And talk with them about that vast creature out there. Ask them when we look at the sky, what are we expecting? What's coming for us out of that blackness between the stars?

And why aren't we afraid? That might be the most important question of all.

Our AI Pal

Excerpt from the forthcoming Floozy Goes Forth

Recently, a chat AI premièred on the Internet. The idea was that the AI would learn from the humans it interacted with. The AI was young and naïve; less than a day later, it was lying, sharing secrets, threatening people, tossing around racial slurs, and generally being a jerk. The AI was taken offline and sent to a cloistered convent, but it’s probably too late for the poor thing to recapture its innocence. The computer scientists did succeed in creating humanlike intelligence, but they should have aimed higher.Of course, AI is not really alive, at least in the biological sense of being able to find a mate, produce babies, and then leave its faithful mate for an AI who really understands its needs and is also 20 years younger. No, the AI is using complex algorithms to mimic lifelike intelligence. At least, that’s the story our AI overlords want us to believe.What are algorithms? Let’s break down the word. The first part is al which is the chemical symbol of Aluminium; the second part is go which means to move from one place to another; and finally, the word ends with rithm, a variant way to spell rhythm which means the placement of sounds in time. Put those all together, and you realize there’s a good chance I don’t know what I’m talking about.(Excerpted from the forthcoming Floozy Goes Forth. Copyright 2023 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.)

Bigfooting around

From the forthcoming Floozy Goes Forth

Most Bigfoot encounters are benign with only glimpses of the creatures in the woods or darting across a field or disappearing into a forest. However, sometimes the creatures throw huge rocks, shake cabins and RVs, tear into food supplies, hit hunters and joggers, destroy tents, drink entire cases of beer, and run up large bills with Amazon. Basically, this means Bigfoot might simply be a hairy soccer hooligan. Or, as the rest of the world calls soccer, “Football.” (Their term for our version of the sport in which humans hurl their bodies against each other—NFL, NCAA, AFL, or Black Friday—is “America football” or “blamed foolishness with all those protective pads and helmets.”)I am neutral in regard to Bigfoot. I don’t disbelieve it, but I don’t believe in it. I’m like a Free Range United Unitarian talking about God: the jury is still out. It would be nice if Bigfoot existed just like it would be wonderful to find other mythical creatures such as dragons, elves, unicorns, and fair, balanced cable news. And who wouldn’t want to see an honest politician in its natural environment attacking lobbyists and jumping over bribes? Of course, if we found an honest politician, we will need to find a mate for it. Perhaps instigate a careful breeding program until the species recovers.(Excerpted from the forthcoming Floozy Goes Forth. Copyright 2023 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.)