A warmish night granted us a muggy, warmish day. It’s still summer, Thirstda, September 4, 2025. 90 F now, 95 to 97 F will mark the thermometer before the day’s end.
Pretty freaking funny that Trump’s Never Surrender Inc PAC has surrendered to Trump dying. They’ve made that clear by asking MAGA donors for small donations in an email with the subject line, “I want to try and get to Heaven”. Trump is obviously depending on Riches 1:666, in the Bible. Riches 1:666 says, “In my father’s house, there are many rooms and elevators, but only one elevator goes to heaven. For God so loves money that he rewards those who die with the most cash on hand with an express elevator to heaven.”
Lots of political talk circulated last night. One person reported ordering something from India. DHL sent her an email demanding that she pay $42 in additional tariffs before delivery. She wasn’t sure what to think about the email. “We’re always being scammed these days,” she said. “And here is this email telling me that I need to click on this link and pay this money, wanting my credit card information. I didn’t know if it was real.” After studying and assessing it, she paid, and it was legit. But, yeah, that seem like process with a lot of scammy potential.
Our biggest political conversation related to the mysterious black bag being thrown out a White House window. Have you seen this video? Trump was asked about it and claimed the video was fake. He also said that the WH windows weigh 600 pounds and are sealed. He said that they can’t be raised. However, the WH issued a statement that said that throwing things out a WH window were cleaners doing business as usual. Sure, because they have decades of video showing things being thrown out WH windows.
Some proposed that Melania was tired of Trump and had some of his things put into a black garbage bag and thrown out as part of an argument about breaking up. My wife proposes that it was medical waste related to Trump’s absence act last week, and that they were taking it out via a different way to avoid detection. Well, that certainly didn’t work.
For my part, I’m angriest about Trump’s latest use of military force. Attacking a boat and killing everyone on board is a bad precedent. Trump isn’t the first POTUS to employ heavy-handed military power to make a statement. Gunboat diplomacy has been around a few hundred years. Administrations and the military have developed ‘more surgical’ weapons and methodology. That would be too subtle for TACO. He didn’t provide any evidence for his actions; nor did he ask for permission from Congress, etc. All that’s for those damn elites, and he’s not an elite, as he’ll eagerly remind you. He’s just white, male, wealthy, and powerful. He’s also a liar and a lightweight thinker with a propensity for embracing broken window fallacies.
Remember glam rock? Today’s music is “Turn Up the Radio” by Autograph. I was housecleaning yesterday, listening to classic rock via Alexa as I did. A favorite Boston song, “Foreplay/Long Time”, popped into the rotation. I ordered Alexa to turn up the volume. The Neurons jumped my brain with this song, of course. So here we are.
The family visit is due to commence shortly. Sis-in-law and her beau are in the area. I’ve fortified myself with some coffee. Hope peace and grace find and shelter you today and every day. Here we go again. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 
Back in the day when radio. stations played more music than talk shows I won a CD called A-Z of Rock in a phone in. This song is featured as the A track.
Somewhat ironically B was Boston but not the track you listed….
Had to be More than a Feeling, of course.
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If Trump goes to heaven, the Devil will be swamped with reservations for Hell.
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That’s a good concept for a play.
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Except that I can’t figure out any possible scenario where Donald Trump would go to Heaven.
“Looking for Loopholes” — A Celestial Farce in One Act
Donald Trump lay in his gold-threaded hospital bed, surrounded by silence and a single flickering Fox News segment. His breathing was shallow, his hair still defiant. A nurse had left a Bible on the nightstand—perhaps out of pity, perhaps irony.
He picked it up. “W.C. Fields,” he muttered. “Smart guy. He was looking for loopholes on his deathbed. I like that.”
And so, with the same flair he once reserved for campaign rallies, Trump performed what he believed to be a perfect act of contrition. It was loud, vaguely remorseful, and peppered with phrases like “tremendous mistakes” and “nobody regrets more than me.” He even added, “I love God. Maybe more than anyone ever has.”
He died mid-sentence.
At the Pearly Gates, St. Peter squinted at the newcomer. “Donald J. Trump. You made a perfect act of contrition?”
“I did. It was perfect. People are saying it was the most perfect act ever. Ask around.”
Peter flipped through a glowing ledger. “We’re having trouble verifying sincerity. You’ve got a long record of… embellishments.”
Trump leaned in. “Fake news. Besides, I’d like to speak to my lawyer.”
Peter sighed. “We don’t have lawyers in Heaven.”
Trump blinked. “What kind of operation is this?”
“Justice. Mercy. No billable hours.”
Trump crossed his arms. “Then I’ll sue. I’ll take this all the way to the top.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “You’re at the top.”
Trump looked around. “No lawyers? No judges? No appeals court?”
“Just grace.”
Trump paused. “What about Giuliani?”
Peter checked the roster. “Pending.”
“Alina Habba?”
Peter shook his head. “Still earthbound.”
Trump groaned. “This is a disaster. I should’ve gone with the scapular.”
Peter gave a half-smile. “You did try to wear one over a golf shirt.”
Trump pointed a finger. “I demand a recount.”
Peter gestured toward a glowing escalator. “We’ll let God sort it out. But if you’re lying…”
Trump stepped forward, muttering, “I’m not lying. I’m just… branding.”
And with that, the gates creaked open—just a crack. Enough for a provisional entry. Heaven’s first celestial audit had begun.
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Very clever and entertaining. Cheers
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