Notice

If you’re an Oregonian…

Oregon’s Vote-by-Mail Needs You This Weekend!

bill in the Oregon Legislature (SB 210) that would REPEAL our vote-by-mail system is getting a public hearing on Monday March 31. You’ve all read the news this week – Trump wants to ban mail voting nationwide, and his acolytes are trying to ban it here in Oregon. Submit written testimony OPPOSING this anti-democratic bill in Oregon by Monday morning here:

You can read the bill here:

https://olis.oregonlegislature.gov/…/Mea…/Overview/SB210

And you can watch the hearing on Monday at 1 PM here:

https://olis.oregonlegislature.gov/liz/mediaplayer…

You can submit written testimony via this online form system:

Written Testimony Submission Form

Written testimony may be submitted for a bill or executive appointment scheduled for a public hearing or for a topic scheduled for public comment. Testimony must be received within 48 hours after the start time of the committee meeting. If you are not able to submit your testimony during this open record window, you may email your testimony directly to your legislator or to the committee members.

NOTICE: Written testimony is public information and will be posted on the Oregon Legislative Information System (OLIS) website. Personal information in written testimony and in the submission form (except email addresses) is posted to OLIS and accessible to all major search engines, including Google, Bing, and Yahoo. DO NOT include any personal information that you do not want made available to the public, such as your address, phone number, or health history.

Submit written testimony for a public hearing or public comment using the form below.

If you experience technical issues submitting your testimony using this form, please report the issue, via email to testimony.techissues@oregonlegislature.gov
Learn more about submitting testimony.

Saturda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

I caught up on reading several posts by Heather Cox Richardson that I’d missed. I appreciate the historic angle she brings to news about Truskzilla’s destruction of the United States. Reading her, I belatedly realized, gosh, I’ve been normalizing Trump and his supporters.

I thought they cared about the United States and its founding principles. Wrong.

Or that the history and heritage of this nation matters. Nope.

That they worry about the Federal deficit and trade imbalances and the stock market. No way.

That usual barometers such as court rulings, disastrous economic results, or opinion polls would have an impact. No fucking way.

That the usual things like how history will judge them matters. It doesn’t; they believe, winners write history. We’ll be the winners. We will write the history.

I did understand that they didn’t care about democracy or voter rights. I did understand that they’re racist, sexist, misogynists, and reactionary. But that was mostly to unite people and put them in office. They needed racist, sexist, reactionary misogynists as their voting base to get them in through the front door.

Those are all normal terms about the normal course of events. Using them in terms of what Trump and the Trusk Regime is doing is normalizing them.

They are not normal. Nor can what they’re doing be called normal.

The Trusk Regime is interested solely in being in power. This is a coup. They’re interested in remaking the United States as an imperial power under a dictatorship. They suggest to each other, why build that mighty military if you’re not going to use it?

Like many dictatorships, the Trusk Regime and GOTP will put up window dressing as a democracy and a republic. But they are setting up the nation to be a military force. Cutting away the things we depend upon as a society — a working and reliable Federal government, healthcare, a safe and healthy environment, Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, to point out some — destabilizes us. Growing unemployment increases people’s desperation. Rising prices limits their options and undermines food and shelter security. Sending children back to work breaks family. Ripping apart the education system reduces the nation’s collective intelligence, and with it, its will. All of these actions, taken in blitzkrieg fashion, demoralizes a growing number of people and spreads an increasing sense of helplessness.

That makes the people ripe for propaganda.

With the economy in shambles, other nations can and will be blamed for the growing poverty and starvation. Trade wars and political differences will be magnified and amplified. Trump, a prolific liar, has perfected the arts of projecting, deflecting, and blaming. That’s why he’s been boosted into position as the head of this monster.

They have X to help spread their misinformation. AI bots. Facebook. Threads. A weakening, capitulating media, itself owned by corporations and oligarchs, has already begun joining the effort.

A frustrated, starving population provides ample troops. And just as we saw with the Cheney/Dubya Iraq and Afghanistan wars, marketing can sell false causes. Helpless people hungry for someone to blame other than themselves will be served other nations as targets.

The clock is ticking. And the war drums have already begun beating.

Flooftifying

Flooftifying (floofinition) To make suitable or sensible to an animal’s needs. Origins: Middle Floofish, 18th century.

In Use: “When getting ready to have offspring, many animals begin flooftifying a suitable location to give birth and initially raise their offspring, usually a place that’s warm, safe, and dry.”

In Use: “Floofifying a house is often needed when a new puppy joins a household, as they sometimes display an astonishing ability to damage things and get into trouble.”

In Use: “When Karla acquired two new cats, she decided flooftifying her patio by turning part of it into a catio that’s accessible by the cats from a window exit was absolutely the right thing to do.”

Saturda’s Wandering Thoughts

I am again mystified. This isn’t shoutitfromtheroof news. I’m often mystified.

I know I mystify others, too. Especially my wife. She often avoids asking questions to clarify, preferring to express her doubts and confusion with her facial expressions. I used to ask her, “What’s that look for?” when I was young. I don’t make those inquiries these days.

My mystification is again with other people. Specifically, other drivers. They often mystify me. Cars stop four car lengths back from the car in front of them. “Why do they do that?” I ask myself and my wife. We laundry list reasons for fun. It’s not satisfying because I never know the real answer.

Other driving aspects which mystify me is the lack of adherence to speed limits. It’s not that I’m worried about speeding. I speed. No, the other drivers’ weird behavior in regards to speed limits trigger me. “It was thirty-five,” I tell my wife. “And they were going thirty. Now it’s a twenty-five miles an hour limit and they’re still going thirty.”

“I think most drivers don’t pay attention,” my wife says.

I agree with her in principle, but I don’t know. That bugs me.

The latest driving mystery involves turn signals. “I’ve noticed a new trend,” I tell my wife. “People are coming to a traffic light, stopping at the red light, but if they’re turning, they’re not putting on their turn signals before until they start to turn. Why do they do that? Don’t they understand what a turn signal is about?”

“Maybe they forgot where they’re going,” my wife says.

That’s possible. But I don’t know. That bugs me.

Returning from the library the other day, she rushed in and said, “You’re right. I had three different drivers not turn on their turn signal until they began turning. What’s going on? Why are they doing that?”

“Right?” I respond. I’m very pleased.

It’s always good to have someone else join your party.

Saturda’s Theme Music

The world is full of colors. Pinks, yellow, and greens win the eye. Must be spring in Ashlandia. Temp is 45 F, however, it feels like 60, if you stand just the right way. ‘They’ say it’ll be 55 F today as our high but left out how it will feel. Will it rain? Yes! Maybe! It’s Saturda, March 29, 2025, so who knows? I will dress for dry and rainy weather. Yeah, it’ll be a dorkish sight.

Papi the ginger blade, known locally as Butter Butt, doensn’t seem upset with us any longer. Could be because we bribed him with chumley and other treats. I don’t think he forgot. He seems to have a long memory about things. It could be that he’s trying to mislead me into thinking he’s forgotten and forgiven, and then raise floofhem some night when we really need sleep. That sort of cunning planning feels like his style.

I surfed through a wild dream last night. Whole thing was just a series of flash epiphanies in dark night. I was telling myself that star energy runs through us, firing the little nuclear responses in our cells that generate our life energy. We die when the star energy can no longer feed our cells. Star energy comes through our chakras into our corporeal beings, and so on. Time is something we made up, and we have it all wrong. Everything is happening at once. No past, no future. Time was created so we could think in a more orderly manner but we’ve taken it too fair. Now it’s our straitjacket.

There was much, much more. Such as there is only one universe, and the idea that we treat our bodies wrong by trying to heal it when we should be reversing things. Dream me didn’t explain how that was supposed to be accomplished.

I awoke really hot. There are different kinds of hot for us as humans. Drinking a hot beverage feels one way. Sex hot, sun hot, fever hot, sports hot which incudes dripping sweat, furnace hot, which dries us out, desert hot, are all different. If you think about these hots, you notice how each feels unique, and our bodies respond differently to each. Well, the hot felt when I awoke from this dream was wholly different from any of those hot experience. Perhaps that’s all only me. I’ve never discussed the different sort of hots I feel with others

Anyway, I awoke feeling a different manner of hot. Then I headed for the bathroom to pee.

Der Neurons have sprung “Star Man” by Davide Bowie on the morning mental music stream. This was from Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust era. Released in 1972, I don’t hear it often on the radio in ‘Merica. But I personally enjoy its message of hope being delivered by a Starman to Earth’s youth. I went with the Top of the Pops video performance. Even though the song is being mimed, it awakened and impressed many more people to the talent named Bowie.

Coffee is reassuring me once again. Time to play through. Hope your day is remarkable for you in many good ways. Peace out.

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