Friday, August 14, 2026

The day started peacefully enough aboard ship.

I’d already consumed enough coffee to float a small destroyer, so I switched over to tea and settled in for what I foolishly believed might be a quiet and productive day.

Aye.

That lasted about ten bloody minutes.

First order of business was Operation Sloppy Seconds.

I’ve been getting increasingly annoyed with the amount of AI-generated bilge washing up on my YouTube feed. Half the time you don’t even know you’re watching the bloody stuff until somebody suddenly grows an extra finger or the English narrator inexplicably starts speaking Chinese.

Enough was enough.

So I installed Tampermonkey on the Mac and we built ourselves a little Slop Filter.

Naturally, it didn’t work the first time.

There was poking.

There was debugging.

There may have been language unbecoming of a gentleman.

Eventually, though…

The bastard worked.

So far the seas have been suspiciously free of AI slop. Whether we’ve actually frightened it off or it’s simply hiding beyond the horizon remains to be seen.

We’ll maintain watch.

Then the Captain made his first tactical error of the day.

I asked a simple question:

Could I build my own Flipper Zero?

Now, sensible people might have researched the idea for five minutes, decided it was too much trouble, and gone back to drinking their tea.

Unfortunately, there were no sensible people present.

Within short order, the idea had evolved into the Stormy Zero — Tactical Pirate Edition.

The current manifest calls for Wi-Fi, RFID, infrared, radio capabilities, security testing tools, passcode protection, and enough blinking lights to make anyone standing nearby wonder whether they should be concerned.

Then I requested the obvious final component.

An EMP cannon.

Request denied.

I appealed the decision.

Denied again.

I pointed out that every properly equipped pirate vessel should have at least one electromagnetic weapon.

Apparently this argument was “not technically compelling.”

Bollocks.

So, under protest, the Stormy Zero will have to make do with authorized Wi-Fi security testing, infrared shenanigans, radio experimentation, hardware tinkering, and whatever other questionable but perfectly legal mischief we can cram aboard.

One unit will be ordered.

There was some discussion about ordering two.

Engineering asked why I would possibly need two.

The Captain’s position remains:

Two is cooler.

Frankly, I don’t see how anyone can argue with that level of scientific reasoning.

So here we are.

I started the day drinking tea and trying to rid YouTube of AI-generated bilge.

I ended it planning a custom Tactical Pirate electronic mischief machine, debating whether I need two of them, and arguing with Engineering because apparently I’m not allowed an EMP cannon.

And that, shipmates…

is why the Captain needs supervision.

🏴‍☠️⚓

End log.

Maintain watch, secure the rum, and for God’s sake don’t let the Captain browse electronics unsupervised.

StormyOS continues to take shape. The Weather Station now draws from official Environment Canada data, Ember has taken up her post as Ship’s Fox and Morale Officer, and the Captain’s Log has become a living part of the Bridge rather than a placeholder.

There is still work ahead. The Race Station needs another visit to the yard, and there will always be another system to improve. But tonight the Bridge feels less like a collection of software and more like a ship finding her character.

Status: All stations GREEN. The voyage continues.

The skies over Edmonton have finally remembered how to be dramatic.

After weeks of heat and enough rain to make a captain wonder if the clouds had gone on holiday, the first low roll of thunder drifted across the city this afternoon. There is something deeply satisfying about hearing that familiar rumble while sitting safely at home with a mug of tea in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Some people hide from storms.

I’ve always found them comforting.

Perhaps it’s the old sailor in me. Thunder has a rhythm all its own—a reminder that nature is still the one truly in command. You don’t argue with it. You simply sit back, listen, and appreciate the show.

Ember, of course, has taken a rather different view of the situation. She has already begun evaluating the safest places to disappear should the sky decide to grow any louder. Cookies may eventually be required to negotiate her surrender.

For now, Home Port is quiet. The windows are open, the breeze has cooled the apartment, and the distant flashes on the horizon promise an evening worth watching.

Some days don’t require grand adventures.

Sometimes the greatest treasure is simply a summer storm rolling in while you’re exactly where you belong.

Fair winds… and following thunder.

— Captain Stormy