Some insights from the net on the Kirk assassination and right-wing hypocrisy.
Satyrdaz Wandering Political Thoughts
The Writing Moment
I’ve been pursuing another novel’s completion. Been writing that puppy as I can while navigating the usual life interruptions. They don’t need counted down on two hands for you to understand all the life junk happening, right? Employ memory and imagination, and you’ll probably get it.
I’ve been sort of stymied. I’m not a plotter. I don’t outline a jot. I’m a solid pantser, leaping from slippery point to slippery point, following whims and impulses like they’re magic winds carrying me toward my destination. Except, suddenly the winds dropped me into a place I didn’t recognize. Not sure where to go, I did some editing, revising, and rewriting while muttering darkly to myself about being misled by mean muses and wondering what the hell had happened to the Writing Neurons. Besides those activities, I made some assumptions and conclusions about what I thought was wrong, how some things lacked enough substance and understanding to build upon, and conducted some writing exercises to stimulate me, myself, and I. I refer to these exercises as snapshots. They’re all just focus exercises to help me have greater understanding of whatever needs more understanding: setting, history, concept, characters, motivations, relationships, whatever you might find in a novel.
After four days of that, grappling with where I was, unsure where I was to go, I said to myself, “Come on, man. Pitter patter. Get ‘er at ‘er.” And miraculously, the muses and the Writing Neurons emerged today and ordered, “Start typing.” And then they guided me through story twists which I never saw. Well, I partly saw some of ’em. But some of the twists involved twists I’d come up with but didn’t know how to put into the story. Suddenly, click, yea! All came together.
Most satisfying writing day, it was. Sometimes it does pay just to sit down and write like crazy. Who do I need to bribe to get more of these?
Satyrdaz Theme Music
Summer is crawling through on a final look see. We’ll strike the low 80s, lifting us from the sunny and mild 66 F where we now reside. Leaves are still green against the summer blue sky but some of those leaves have lost their luster. It’s Satyrda, children, September 13, 2025.
No home-front changes for me with a friend in hospice, Mom on mute, Dad in rehab, as is another friend, and my wife under the weather.
I listened to Trump’s speech from the NATO summit’s closing day. He claimed he ‘rebuilt the entire military’ during his first term. WTF does that even mean? If you take the literal words and their literal definitions, then the United States has a military which is just a few years old. Leaves me confused. Where did he get all those old B-52s, aircraft carriers, F14s, F15s, and F15s if he rebuilt it? How did he get new C5s and why are old ones still in use if he rebuilt the military? He’s such a bombastic blowhard. Some will give Trump leniency and say, “Oh, he’s being metaphorical.” I call BS. It’s like me claiming, you know I rebuilt the entire house last week. Bottom line: no, he didn’t, and making such claims makes him look like a boastful fool. This is in line with other claims, like he’s going to lower drug prices by thousands of percent. Or that in many places, gas prices are below $1.99 a gallon. He just lies and boasts to make himself look good. While some worship his words as the gospel, a bigly number of people know the truth about him, the truth he reinforces whenever he speaks.
Of course, Trump was eager to blame Kirk’s murder on someone from the left. But guess what? It was another right-winger killing another of their own. No apologies from Trump and others for making wild and biased accusations, of course. Trump lacks the moral fortitude and honesty for anything like that.
BTW, how is that whole thing about Epstein going for Trump?
Papi inspires todays music selection. I opened the backdoor for fresh air and sunshine and he whipped around and sprinted over to me with a quick chirp of greeting. Sitting, he put his face to the sun and closed his eyes. As I offered some love touches, I asked, “Where you been, buddy? What are you out here looking for?” As Papi and I entered the house together, The Neurons summoned U2 with “Where the Streets Have No Name”.
Coffee has begun its rounds in my corporeal vessel. Let’s hope grace and peace find and keep us today and always. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 