Month: June 2025

Twosda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

First up, PINO TACO is poisoning Americans, followed by American Resistance.

It’s not enough that the TACO Regime is encouraging people to avoid vaccinations, which is helping measles stage a deadly return. Now the inept and ignorant TACO Regime is POISONING OUR FOOD SUPPLY!!! Yes, deadly tomatoes are out there! IT’S ATTACK OF THE KILLER TOMATOES!!!

FDA alerts 14 states about deadly tomato recall expansion

My confession: I don’t know if this salmonella outbreak can be attributed to the TACO Regime and the DOGE cuts. A look back through history shows that these outbreaks happen. But PINO TACO would not hesitate to hyperventilate with all caps and exclamations points were a Democrat POTUS. So I’m really just emulating TACO’s style.

Does a post like this help with civil discourse and problem solving? Hell, no. But when the GOTP and TACO Regime stops doing it and get serious, so will I.

Next, American Resistance! This was posted over on Mock Paper Scissors. WP still won’t permit me to properly reblog from them, so here’s my work-around. Summary: Masked gunman are trying to round people up. Without badges and insignia, they could be anybody.

More, Please

San Diego neighborhood makes ICE agents retreat

— Ted Cruz called the FBI on me (@weareronin.bsky.social) 2025-06-02T21:29:26.661Z

This should give us a little lift to start our day. Make no mistake, if you get the mellow beach bums of San Diego to rise-up, anyone can rise-up.

The thing that worries me is that without badges or other identifying insignia, any crack-pot militia can start playing this game and rounding-up people in white vans and disappearing them, and vigilantes are not exactly known for rules. We need more of this to stop the Gestapo/ICE (and maybe the Proud Boys).

As much as I hate saying this, IF you are white use your white privilege if you see this happening: it’s your Superpower against these fascists/racists. Demand to see warrants signed by a judge, and don’t let them disappear people.

(Hat tip: Scissorhead Purplehead)

Remember to resist this and other un-American behavior on No Kings Day, June 14th.

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Twosda’s Theme Music

Summer is pushing more blue sky and sunshine on us. Chastised clouds have slipped the area and the sun reigns supreme. 70 F at 11 AM, we’re anticipating…78 F as our high. Sweet to me.

Papi the butter butt floof loves this warm weather. He came in this morning. We shared a purrful visit, then he stuffed himself on kibble, wet food, treats, and water. Now he’s floofsconced in the vinca. Only his sweet ginger and white face is visible among the green leaves.

Today’s music arrived with a boost from my wife. I was listening to a video which played a few seconds of every Billboard weekly number one hit song in the United States from the beginning of 1960 to the end of 1969. This came to my attention via 1440’s deep dive into the history of rock and roll.

My wife came in as the video advanced through “These Boots Are Made for Walking”, “The Ballad of the Green Berets”, “(You’re My) Soul and Inspiration”, “Good Lovin'”, and “Monday, Monday”.

“What year are you listening to?” she asked.

“Guess,” I replied.

She tried 1970, 1968, and then 1965. “1966,” I said. A little later, Bobbie Gentry sang, “Harper Valley PTA”.

My wife sang along and then said, “I love that song. But the very first record I ever wanted was “Society’s Child” by Janis Ian. I think I was thirteen. I asked for it for Christmas but I didn’t get it.”

I looked it up. “That came out in 1967.”

“How old was I then?”

“Ten.”

Anyway, The Neurons slipped “Society’s Child” into the morning mental music stream when I wasn’t paying attention. My wife thought the song had hit number one; I never told her that it didn’t break the top 10. Of course, bigotry and racism and it’s controversial topic of interracial dating kept it from getting airtime.

I’m at the coffee shop, my fix at hand. There was a line and a hold up. As I waited, the manager came around with my drink, along with the side of ice water which I always request. “Where do you want these, Michael?” she asked.

Laughing, I answered, “I can take them,” but she insisted on delivering them to my table for me.

Sweet service, if you can get it. Cheers

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Floofsconce

Floofsconce (floofinition) – Term to describe animal sleeping in a safe, protected, and comfortable space. Origins: 1594, western regions of Floofrope.

In Use: “People who share life with floofs are always pleased when their floof can floofsconce somewhere where the people can reliably find them safe and comfortable.

In Use: “For feline floofs, under and behinds bushes outdoors in the summer is where they often floofsconce.”

In Use: “As a puppy, Animal usually dropped and slept wherever he stopped playing, but as an adult, he always floofsconced in Matty’s room, on their bed.”

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Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Trump shares unfounded conspiracy theory claiming Biden was ‘executed’ in 2020

Trump Amplifies Another Outlandish Conspiracy Theory: Biden Is a Robotic Clone

Someone else wrote the original post. TACO shared it to his followers.

What’s weird to me is not the unfounded conspiracy that former President Biden was assassinated. Hell, no; the right wing has been a conspiracy machine since the beginning of this century. They’re just going deeper and broader by the day.

No, what’s really revealing and absurd about this conspiracy theory is that Joe Biden was replaced by a clone or robot, and yet, weirdly and inexplicably, ‘they’ replaced him with an aging version of himself who struggled with his memory and energy level and now has cancer.

Sounds about as solid as Greedy Old Trump Party planning gets.

Remembering other shit TACO has claimed…

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Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

“Look,” my wife said. “Did you notice your coffee cup?”

I looked at the coffee cup.

“I cleaned it,” my wife said. “I don’t know what was going on, but you had all these drips going down along the sides. I wondered, why is he leaving his cup like that? Does he think it makes his coffee taste better?”

I smiled. “It was performance art.”

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Munda’s Theme Music

Suming continues in Ashlandia. It’s a spring base with heavy summer nuances today, Munda, June 2, 2025. Presently 60 F, we’ll pop through 80 before the sun declares fini.

I’m in a bit of a hurry this morning. Time again for us to do Food & Friends deliveries. After that, it’s back to the writing routine and then beginning of month chores. I also pruned trees and bushes around the yard, and now must cut it all down and put it in the green bin for pickup tomorrow.

Haven’t heard back from Mom in days. I’ve regularly texted her. I do know she’s okay. Little sister’s youngest just turned 17. I saw Mom in FB photos of he bash. The lad, named Michael because one can’t have enough Michaels, is the youngest of the nieces and nephews. The next generation of them are nipping on his heels, as they’re sixteen. All are impressive examples of human beings, so far; we know how people change as they age, don’t we? Well, not everyone. But many inevitably shift into someone else who may be better or worse.

My wife bought a book this weekend called A Short Stay in Hell. It’s very short but thought-provoking. We both read it and then discussed its ideas.

With my nephew’s birthday in the rear view, it should be no surprise that thoughts of generations and transitions are occupying The Neurons. They dug out The Who with “My Generation” from 1965. Love the video of the era. The basics of people walking, dancing, and working aren’t much different from what we’d see in a video produced today. Shoes, clothing, and hair styles would be the most notable aspect of the differences, along with cars and vehicles. Since there’s no sound, we’d miss the other facet of change: how talk has changed. But of course, any video of people on the streets today would be peppered with folks on cell phones., right?

Time to make it a Munda, just as so many generations before me. I’ll start with coffee. Cheers

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An Oven DIY Update.

Well. That’s over with. A new igniter is installed and working in my GE Profile range

It was not easy. Not the 30 minute job advertised. Noooo. Because, manufacturing. So.

Part arrives. Looks right. Saturday afternoon, I begin.

Turn off power to range. Remove top iron grills and burner covers. Empty bottom storage of the baking sheets and iron skillets. Remove oven door. Slide out from wall. Unplug. Turn off gas.

Now we’re cooking.

Remove racks. Remove two screws from the back on the fire shield. Shift back, lift up and remove fire shield.

It’s all going like a dream.

Locate igniter. Bingo, right there. Remove two screws. Remove two screws. Remove…two…screws…

One breaks off. Fuck Second one just turns and turns, apparently stripped.

Try a zillion fucking ways to get that screw out. No. Go.

Three hours have passed. I’m dripping sweat. I stop for the day. Realize sometime during the evening, I’m going to need to grind off that screw head. I need a tool for that, research options, and make shopping plans.

Ten o’clock. I get ready to go shopping. My wife pops off to a friend’s house. She calls as I’m walking out the door. The friend has a Dremel I can use to grind the head off. His son has it as his place, about two miles from my place. Off I go to pick it up and bring it back.

The friend’s son is a friend and a retired editor and literary agent, so we talk books and publishing for thirty minutes. He’s always a good visit. He’s also just lost his cat to cancer; another ten minutes is spent on sympathy and pain.

Back at home, gloves and goggles are donned, the grinder is plugged in, and the head is ground off. The igniter is freed from its bracket but remains wired in. To get to that, I should remove several more pieces but after that previous screw episode, that is not going to happen. I instead cut the wires to the igniter and remove the plug out the back. Next, I twist and shift my fingers, screwdrivers, and pliers until the new igniter’s connections are through the 1.25 inch through the back. I really could have used four more hands and much longer arms during this process. The igniter is put into place. New screws are installed.

Then, reverse disassembly. Just enough to let me test that puppy. Gas on. Power on. Plugged in. Fingers crossed, oven turned on.

Success.

The range’s empty space is cleaned, then the range is manuevered back into place. Everything is returned to its position and the tools are put away. It’s 2:30.

Time for lunch. Water. And rest.

5

Sunda’s Wandering Thoughts

You know, they have antique cars and classic cars. Why don’t we have antique rock? Will there come a day when we’ll be listening to some digital stream of antique rock? From my scant research, classic rock was originally rock from the late 1960s on. It evolved into an album oriented format and morphed into mostly arena rock. Based on that progression, maybe the stuff before the late 1960s rock could be antique rock? Which means the Kinks’ 1964 hit, “You Really Got Me”, would be antique rock…

I’ll see myself out.

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