conclavity

Dany had her surgery Wednesday and has been resting up since. I've been cleaning and waiting with Teemo.

I made some progress automating aeolus builds, which I'm still running manually. I also smooshed around the URL layout again. I bonked up proxy configuration for a bit, which popped up on the status page and then in the aeolus feed. The ouroboros wishes!

I have a few lifetimes of plans to implement, but we're slowly chewing through it. The product is a supply of news for my own gossip junkie. Rebecca's lesson in sleight of hand is pulling focus on the rhododendrons while pillaging the papers for reports of your own demise.

Monday's report was climatology's change.

My prometheus exporters are half baked, but so are some of the best cookies. One tracks METAR data published by the NWS and adds some derivations hobbled together over a weekend of make believe meteorology. The raw data is temperature, dew point, pressure, and wind speed, which are fun to contour into Wind Chill, Heat Index, and Feels Like, actually.

On Friday the report was wealth's devastation, a tornado threatening the weather stations I've only just come to love. My sloth, my sin!

I may be a make believe meteorologist, but I would forecast that access to temperature, dew point, pressure, and wind speed does more to "give every developing country a vital early warning system of extreme events" than replacing weather monitoring systems with climate change inducing machinery. I can feel it in my knee.

Another exporter uses skyfield to track the positions of the earth, sun, and moon. I think I want that in the aeolus production, where I could generate geojson artifacts to render in a map. I built some grafana visualizations on top of prometheus, which was easy to get going but slow to share.

Anything derived from skyfield is slow by definition, I guess. One super massive snapshot compressing the next fifty years. They had to send an astronaut twice as far ahead to see where it lands then write home an abbreviated summary. "Mostly well, it kept turning!" Now I can pick off my position one pixel at a time, resisting until I can't the urge to peek ahead. "Dear galaxy, I've exhausted this ephemeris binging Sunday night in bed, more constellations, please!"

I read about a spaghettified star this morning, too much getting what I wish for, already too many stars to wish on. Next Gen Perseus, young and in love with Jessica, overslept after a long night consoling her after Tony made a scene the night before after making out with Tiffany in front of Mark. A brief flash on the monitor a moment before he arrives five minutes late, final flares of a sinking star.

Space is great, but while I've had my eyes on the stars krakens crawled out of the ocean onto the Horn of America and began to rampage the continent!

Republican Catholic, menacing mermaid of the Mid-Atlantic. Reactionary racist, dumb conduit for the lightening raining down from Mount Appalachia.

Democratic Baptist, Southern salamander stepping from stream through fire, threading the stars and earth and ocean. Self manifested, self tethered.

Unstable elements of an unstable reaction, and only one recipe in the Joy of Cooking Migratory Birds of the 95 Corridor. But it appears in the first few chapters and emerged as a traditional staple. Conclave the two, adding only warm, flat, diet soda as needed. Slice into quarters and serve immediately or let cool and store in the catacombs for up to three schisms.