Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
The Trump Regime runs off bullshit and forgetfulness. Trump himself is a perpetual bullshit machine. Churning out bullshit, he gains energy from that bullshit which he creates. The chaos in his wake inspires more bullshit.
All along, as TACO spouts bullshit and bullshit churns, he hopes everyone will forget the bullshit which he previously spread and its results. He and his regime wants you to forget all his bullshit. Like:
Trump guilty on all counts in New York criminal trial
It’s official: Clinton swamps Trump in popular vote
Trump Revises History on Mexico’s Wall Payment
Trump wants us to forget:
Donald Trump is impeached and faces trial in the US Senate
A landslide? Just 0.15 percent of all voters determined Trump’s 2024 victory
Trump wants to pretend he’s a great ‘man’. That he’s ‘a warrior’ and didn’t dodge military service with bullshit excuses. Part of his bullshit is to pretend he’s Superman. He’s not.
Donald Trump officially crowned ‘fattest US president’ in past 100 years
Trump wants you to think he’s a genius. His only genius is bullshitting. Spreading his bullshit, he pretends that he never said he would end the Ukraine-Russia War on his first day. Sez now, “That was sarcasm.” Claims it was, “In jest.” But dutiful factfinders have proven otherwise.
It wasn’t sarcasm or in jest. It was standard Trump bullshit.
Trump’s History With the Word Sarcasm Is Littered with Excuses and Ignorance
Of course, Trump wants MAGA and everyone else to forget about Trump’s campaign promise that he would release the Epstein Files.
Trump’s team promised transparency on Epstein. Here’s what they delivered.
And he wants the subject changed.
Do not forget. He has repeatedly and erringly proven who and what he is. The evidence has been established and proven again and again.
Do not let this bullshitter in chief get away with his shit.
Sometimes a dream comes along that sparks happiness when you awaken and remember. So it was this morning, with four positive things happening to me in a dream last night.
Fun reviewing it all in the AM. The cupcake was dark and decadent. A stranger, female, gave it to me with a smile. She was going along, passing them out from a silver tray. The energy coming from her felt so positive, I never hesitated to eat it. And man, was it good. I offered some to my wife, but she declined.
I didn’t remember trying out for a baseball team, especially as a pitcher. As a young player, I had a strong arm but it was made more for the outfield than the mound. I got an email on my phone that it was probably going to happen: the Cincinnati Reds were going to sign me. Then a phone call was received that verified, yep, it was in the works. “Come in this afternoon to sign the paperwork.” My wife was on her phone when I tried to share that good news with her.
Then, though, after she was off her phone and I began telling her, I received another phone call. This was a literary agent. They’d read my manuscript, wanted to rep me, and already had a publisher eager to buy it. I was floored. As I jubilantly shared that with my wife, a man walked up and handed me a check for $33,000.
And that’s where the dream ended.
Lawdy, it was the skunkpocalypse last night. I don’t know what was going on but skunk stink bowled through the house like a Budweiser King Pin tournament at 4 AM. After shutting the only windows open and activating the air filter, I consulted an oracle. “Is this a bad omen for August?” I asked. “I can’t work in these conditions,” the oracle answered, tears streaming down their cheeks. I took that as a yes. At the least, it seems like a ‘maybe’.
Yeah, that’s how Frida, August 1, 2025 rolled in on us. But could’ve been worse, judging from all that goes on in the world. Especially in the era of MAGALand. I mean, I could have been shot and killed from police exercising a no-knock warrant at the wrong address. ICE could’ve pounced on me when I opened the door for fresh air and stolen my ID or disappeared me. Earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, flash-flooding, and tornados are all real threats at this time. So a heavy skunk attack is mild.
Today, it’s 72 F. Gonna get to 86 F. Thunder boomers thrashed the area for several hours. We even had a little wetletting from the sky, just enough to call it a sprinkle. No reports of rampant lightning strikes, knock wood. Porcupine Fire to the southeast is new but just an acre. A helicopter is doing bucket work on it.
With First Frida, we have the downtown Art Walk to entertain us and the First Frida Bike Ride. On a friend’s recommendation, we’re going to see a play, Disaster! It’s a comedy.
News reading drove The Neurons to invite Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers into the morning mental music stream. “Breakdown” from 1977 is looping through. Why not breakdown? Reading about the many aspects of U.S. life slowly breaking down is tres depressing. The Trump Regime is a seriously backward lot. Like, over under the Fox newsguy’s guidance, the Defense Department personnel have been instructed not to work with any think tanks. While it doesn’t make sense from a historic and intelligent point of view, it’s tots inline with the TACO Regime: they’re against thinking.
Under Trump, all signs point to not thinking as much as possible. Fer instance, don’t think about our history of slavery and civil rights. Don’t think about sexism and racism. Don’t think about climate change and increasing extreme weather disasters. Don’t think about due process, the Constitution, checks and balances, and historic precedence. Don’t think about Trump’s campaign promises and how he’s not delivered. Don’t think ’bout education and morality. Most def do not think about Epstein and Trump, and their secrets.
But it’s only the title, “Breakdown”, which works. The song itself, about a souring relationship, doesn’t apply. Oh, wait; I guess that can apply to Trump and his voters. Seem of them might be souring, according to polls. Really, too early. Takes a while for it all to gel and hit home.
Well, I can’t just sit here typing and reading and writing all day while drinking coffee. Things Must Be Done. Like, the car Must Be Put Into The Shop, because it’s systems are saying, it is time again. More yardwork and housework Must Be Done. More vacation planning is in order. Can’t have a good vacation without intensive dialogues about what Will Be Done and What Is Needed.
I hope peace and grace bless you this day. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 