My wife picked up a skillet the other day. Washed and dried, she was putting it away. When she turned, the skillet nailed her glass of water on the counter. Put the glass airborne and shattered it into sixteen zillion pieces of glass. Water, Everywhere.
We have hardwood floors in that part of the house — kitchen, foyer, dining room, halls. The glass was cleaned up as best as we could. But. It’s glass.
A few days after the incident, a piece of glass found my heel. Bleeding and pain followed. As the situation unfolded, after almost fifty years of marriage and three more years of being together, my wife asked me, “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”
We’re rolling through January now, picking up steam for 2025. It’s the 27 and Munda. Blue skies and sunshine are storming our valley. Air temp resides at 36 F and the stagnant air has settled back in. High today will check out at 52 F, which is what we saw yesterday. No snow yet in the winter of 2024-2025 in Ashlandia. No snow yet in 2025.
Tech stocks tumbled. ‘It’ — they — are worried about China’s AI advances, but Trump occupies the Oval Office, so it’s his fault, isn’t it? Sure is. Same thinkin’ they threw at President Biden must be adhered to here and now, brothers and sisters. Trump has taken over and before his first month in office, look at how the tech industry is reacting. Tsk, tsk. Terrible, terrible, Taken a great market and turned it into trash.
The California wildfire situation has gotten worse since Trump has taken over, with new fires exploding into new areas. Why everything is burning up under Trump’s guidance. This must be the worst administration ever, the actual absolute worse. He’s done nothing to put them out. What an abysmal record on fire fighting and disasters. And it’s having such a devastating impact on multiple industries, which will translate to unemployment and inflation both rising while the insurance industry bleeds and the economy tanks. What a terrible person he is. Absolute worst person for the job, and it’s already showing in all of these areas.
The Neurons are piping the Killers into the morning mental music stream. Today’s offering is “All These Things that I have Done” from 2004. This is directly related to the U.S. political situation as Trump and the GOTP trample the Constitution and everything it stood for while attempting to drag us back into the 1800s. The song features lyrics which keep repeating, “If you can, hold on, if you can, hold on, hold on.” My word for 2025 is courage, and my motto, “If you can, hold on.”
Coffee and I re-assessed our positions and have concluded a mutual aid agreement that lets me brew and drink. So begins another day. Here’s the music. Hope you watch and listen. Cheers
My wife has a new laptop ‘puter. “How should I keep it clean?” she asked me. “What should I use? I want to keep it clean. I was terrible about that with my last one and I don’t want to be like that this time.”
“I don’t know how to keep it clean,” I replied, although I had some ideas like, don’t eat while you’re using it.
“But I thought you were a tech guy and knows all this stuff.”
“You’ve mistaken me for someone else. Why don’t you research how to keep it clean? You know, search the net.”
“I am researching. I’m asking you.”
I laughed. “Okay, I’ll do a quick search.”
“See?” my wife exclaimed with a grin. “It worked.”
Scenes hang in my mind, waiting to be unfolded. A line or two or three is written. A pause to contemplate them is embraced. More lines come, get written. The growing new scene is reviewed, lightly edited. More lines come, more gets written.
Sometimes, the pause gets extended. I surf into news articles and others’ posts. Then a muse spears my attention and I jump back to the scene being written. Lines are added. They stack into paragraphs. Paragraphs stack into pages. I review what I wrote and lightly edit.
That scene is eventually done. The next one is considered and plotted in my head. I approach again. A line or two or three is written. So it goes.
Meanwhile, muses ambush me with a new concept. I’m reading a non-fiction article about glaciers. The concept harpoons my mind. I grin with delight and think, oh, wow, that would be fun. An opening scene begins unfolding.
I open up a new doc to capture the first lines. Scenes are written. They turn into chapters and branch into a structure’s glimmerings. I think, this will be my next project. I rummage around my brain for a title. A tentative one is hauled out. Rejected. Another bubbles up. Acceptable. More is realized and written. The working title is modified. The quick, sudden progress surprises me. This will definitely be fun to write. But first, the other novel in progress must be finished.
I close the document. Return to the work in progress. A line or two or three is written. I’m close to the end. Close to tying it all up and saying to myself, finished.
Good morning’! Welcome to Sunda, Jan. 26, 2025. We’re closing out 2025’s first month, and what a first month it’s been!
Here in Ashland, we have…drum roll, please…blue skies and sunshine again. Current temp is 33 F and the ever present ‘they’ are speaking of highs in only the upper forties. A stout wind carrying wintry shards have cranked up. It’s moanin’, groanin’, and hissin’, while tossin’ loose things around like an irritated gorilla.
Today’s song emerged because I was singing “Hash Pipe” to myself. “Hash Pipe” is a 2001 Weezer song. Its first vocal line is sang in descending notes. The words go, “I can’t help myself, I go out of my mind.”
Hearing that, The Neurons unburied a point about those lyrics. They’re lifted from a Beatles song, “You Can’t Do That”, from 1964. Pivoting with that, Der Neurons filled my morning mental music stream with the Beatles’ song.
Sing along with me.
“So please listen to me if you want to stay mine. “I can’t help my feelings, I go out of my mind. “I’m going to let you down and leave you flat. “I told you before, oh, you can’t do that.”
Never bought it, but I know the song well.
“Hash Pipe” was being sung because of a NYTimes Tale. I read a piece about MAGA folks and where they thought Trump was leading them. They were interviewed after the inauguration. Man, talk about a misinformed, misguided bunch. Even after all these years of exposure to their many instances of ignorance, I’m still shocked when I encounter it. For instance, here’s a woman from PA:
We are so divided. It’s scary. Scary for the kids that are growing up, like my grandkids. I don’t like the way this country’s turned — all this woke stuff. Stuff that the kids shouldn’t be exposed to. I think I was 18 before I knew that there was gay people, you know? I listened to Queen. I didn’t know he was gay.
Amish came out in Pennsylvania. They came out in droves. They came out in their horse and buggies. It was incredible. So that’s a united country again. We’re tired of being lied to.
I infer from what she said that she thinks Trump speaks truth. *head shake*
Beyond that example, they demonstrate no idea how tariffs, the economy, or energy production and prices work. They believe all those things Trump says he’s doing with his magic pen. They believe this, of course, because they’re fully wired into right-wing news sources. So even when inflation doesn’t drop, prescriptions drug prices increase, unemployment rises, food shortages spread, and pollution mars our land, water, and air, they’ll be blissfully touting all the great things Trump is doing.
That is part of the big picture. Create a right-wing media that disparages the left and praises the right without regard to the truth or facts. Dismantle the education system so people no longer know history, economics, science, and government. Shutter transparency on the government by firing inspectors and dismantling agencies. Crush opposition so there are no dissenting voices. Teach the big lies in church as part of their religious worship. And of course, keep ’em soaking in fear: fear of what the left is doing by mislabeling Democrats as socialists and communists, which are dirty words in the right-wing. Keep ’em in fear by lying to them about what the LGBTQ+ community does to their children. Fuel their fear with worries about immigrants taking their jobs and eating their pets.
The transformation will be complete, and Trump voters will never know. They’ll go down, whining about increased prices, high unemployment, dirty air, and so on, without ever understanding how they were part of it, how they were duped and used. It’s a con on a national scale.
And that’s why “Hash Pipe” was being sung. There’s a chorus about being kicked in the song.
Oh, come on and kick me Oh, come on and kick me (Whoa) Come on and kick me You’ve got your problems (Whoa) I’ve got my eyes wide (Whoa) You’ve got your big G’s I’ve got my hash pipe
h/t to Bing.com
See, those GOTP supporters are asking to be kicked. But that’s okay. They got their hash pipe. In their case, their hash pipe is the fear hatred that fuels their bitterness, sexism, and racism; or entertainment like video games, television shows, sporting events, and movies that keep ‘em distracted. Meanwhile, reality will keep kicking them, and they won’t fuckin’ know it.
Ignorance is truly bliss.
Coffee and I have are into another one-morning stand. Here’s the music. Hope you have a strong day. Please, don’t ever turn your back on the truth. Here we go with some music. Cheers
Infloofition(floofinition) – The ability to know without direct evidence, rational thought, or inference, what an animal will do. Origins: Middle Flooflish, from the Flooftin, first noted use in 1600.
In Use: “Connie’s infloofition caused her to sigh, put down her novel, and head for the door. Rascal had gone out through the pet door six minutes before, and a fight was overdue.”
In Use: “Taylor put their plate down and went to fetch a glass of tea when infloofition made them rush back to their food just as Munchkin arrived to make it hers.”