Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I enjoyed the Trump Univision town hall meeting from the other day. Here was a chance for voters to ask questions, and Trump could directly answer them, all unembellished by liberal media, teleprompters, ghosts, or voodoo. Of course, he didn’t dance for them as he did at a recent rally, so you know, they lost from that POV, I guess.
A man asked Trump about Jan. 6 and Trump’s role. Trump replied, “You had hundreds of thousands of people come to Washington. They didn’t come because of me, they came because of the election—they thought the election was a rigged election and that’s why they came.”
“Some of those people went down to the Capital. I said peacefully and patriotically, nothing done wrong at all, nothing done wrong. Action was taken, strong action.”
I like the video pan of the crowd as Trump is answering. Stern-faced, arms crossed, the people listened. When Trump says, “Ashli Babbitt was killed, nobody was killed,” a woman did a double take.
The camera caught it. She was clearly listening to what Trump said and heard the doublespeak inherent in his response.
My other favorite segment of that town hall came when Trump was asked about climate change.
Trump responded with one of his ‘beautiful, rambling weaves’. Yeah, that’s my snark showing through.
I want to highlight how he veers into his standard alphabet cereal answer. “So I always feel that with the climate and I have been a great, I have been an environmentalist. I built many things. I own Doral next door — ”
Point of order: Trump did not build Doral so it has nothing to do with his environmental record when it comes to building things.
But Trump goes on to make you think he did, “I own Doral next door and we did that in a very environment way — “
‘Environment way’? Where did Trump get his great, beautiful degree again?
“I got awards, environmental awards, for the way I built it, for the water, for the way I use the water, the sand, the mixing of the sand and water.”
Trump didn’t get involved with Doral until 2012. Fifty years after it was built. If he won environmental awards for Doral, I can’t find it on the Internet. They seem to exist in much the same way as his healthcare plan: a concept promise of what could be.
Or an outright lie.
Vote blue in 2024.
Coffee warms my throat as I watch fat dark gray clouds sailing across the sky. Sunlight clears the clouds, dramatically lighting their heights. Looks like fall, alright.
Many people live by the weather when it comes to the season. I’m one of those. My attire today are jeans. Long pants. Long sleeve shirt.
Wind, chill, and rain, and lack of sunshine pulled the decision to don jeans free of my brain cells. Much as anything, it’s that feel to the air, the color of the sky, and the mood it all presents as winds chase leaves down the street, that the seasonal change is really here.
So, I’m wearing jeans, looking back on the hot, smoky summer, shifting my gaze toward the future, to the coming winter, and what it might bring.
Much like my ancestors probably did. Without the jeans.
Mood: coffeegalvanized
It’s a stillish fall morning outside the windows. Rain’s been falling from darkly loaded clouds. They’ve overtaken the blue and sun today.
It’s Thursday, October 17, 2024. Chilly with that rain, the high will be 61 and the low will be 37 F. Freeze warnings are in effect for tomorrow morning’s early hours. On the bright side of matters, our air quality is excellent, just single digits.
Got a call this morning from the county emergency system. Today is the great shake-out. They wanted us to pretend an earthquake was underway and practice surviving it. I’ve been through a few smaller quakes so I easily imagined the shaking.
The situation provoked some pre-coffee thinking. When I was a child in Wilkinsburg, PA, I remember us doing a duck and cover under my desk, in case the commies launched their nukes. Then, in the military, we were always practicing surviving war and natural disasters. There were fake NBC attacks. Fake unexploded ordinance to deal with. And of course, nukes and EMP. What would happen if we lost our telecommunications; how would we survive? We practiced decoding messages which would send us to war, and other exercises to receive notification hostilities were over. My career’s final years saw me fighting simulated space wars. Throughout, I was engaged in war planning, getting ready to deploy equipment to some theater’s front lines, etc., and reporting on our efforts to get ready and be ready, briefing the general who was our commander five days a week at one assignment, and getting ready to brief him.
Naturally, here in southern Oregon, we stay ready for wildfires. We have checklists and go-bags for evacuation. I’m fairly prepared in that regard, as I wrote local plans, checklists, and guidance for evacuating bases for wherver I was, and trained others in executing that stuff.
Seems like a lot of my life has been about getting ready. I was getting ready to be an adult as a teen. Beyond getting ready for war and natural disasters during, I was constantly getting ready for flu season, to move to another assignment, and I was getting ready for retirement.
Now I’m getting ready for my foot surgery. Getting ready for Mom and Dad to pass. That could be my life motto: “Get ready.”
Of course, as I reflect on my needs to get ready as a child and adult, I think it’s better than the active shooter drills so many children now go through to get ready for the real deal. Their need is driven by people with guns walking into schools and committing mass murder. My need to get ready was much more abstract and distant.
I have a pre-op appointment for my foot surgery next Wednesday. It’s to get me ready for the surgery. Actual surgery takes place the following Wednesday. The pre-op appointment came out of the blue. No phone call or coordination about what time works best for me; just a sudden message through Mychart telling me that the appointment was made. Poor communication, to me, and sort of arrogant, and annoying. Like, hey, what if I was out of town that day? Fortunately, I’m not, but still…
Today’s music comes via Tom MacInnes’s website. I enjoy Tom’s posts about music history, along with his experiences as a teacher and a father, particularly his stories about reading with his daughter and his students. Yesterday’s post was “The Great Canadian Road Trip…Song #76/250: Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne”. I ended up with “Sk83r Boi” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark bopping). It’s a lively, energetic song, and completely free and clear of political nuances, so I latched onto that. I need a political break from scanning news on either side of the schism, and tales of polls, rumors, innuendoes, and courts. Just give me some simple teenage offering.
I’m pretty pleased with it as a song choice. The Neurons had been offering “The Monkey’s Uncle” from the Disney movie with the same title. I don’t know why the hell The Neurons chose that song. Never saw the movie, but I knew of its elements, and obviously that song and some of the other songs the movie offered. That was from an era of beach movies. I never dug ’em.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been introduced to my systems once again and I believe I have a pulse. Here’s the music. Get ready for the election.
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 