

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Oppressive humidity is doing in the morning. Not overly high humidity in the general sense. We’re just not used to humidity here.
It’s Frida, September 5, 2025. Temperature is 72 F but it feels warmer and less comfortable due to the humidity. We’ll peak in the low 90s today, unlike yesterday, when we clashed with 97 F.
My sister-in-law and her boyfriend arrived. Although they came in from Florida, they weren’t prepared for the heat. They’d been on the coast, then went inland to see the redwoods, and talked about the 30-degree temperature change they experienced in a short time and distance. The boyfriend, a year or two my senior, then asked as we walked around, “Can we go to somewhere with air-conditioning and sit down for a pint?” He’s an amiable individual. An engineer, we discovered that he and I grew up in Pittsburgh suburbs about four miles of each other. We’re both Steeler football fans. Besides three pints, he drank a tumbler of scotch during the space of dinner and the next two hours.
They’re sleeping in this morning after doing a lot of driving and traveling over the past three days. Once they call, we’ll take them somewhere local for food and then do local sightseeing.
I saw the jobs report this morning. Funny that firing the BLS person responsible for the last dismal jobs report didn’t change the dismal numbers. Just 22,000 jobs added. Oh, my. Not looking good for Trump’s economy. These hard numbers are backing up the anecdotes we’re hearing about business chains closing locations, small and medium businesses shuttering their doors, layoffs being announced. Lots of FAFO stories emerging. Of course, that could be the news services which I frequent catering to my interests and attitudes, at least to some degree. I try vesting such info as best as I can but that’s a challenge in this digital era.
Today’s music arrived from a confluence of events. One, Papi and I were out last night. I first was checking the moon, then looking for spaceships. Papi accompanied me. I’m not sure what he was checking out. Then, I dreamed that I was cooking. The meal was coming out looking good and smelled good. It was being done in this strange little apartment. But as I was cooking, several Russians stopped by. They were mostly talking to my wife but also addressing questions to me. This annoyed and distracted me.
The net of this, as I recalled last night and the dream, is that The Neurons rose up with a Jackson Browne song called “Lawyers in Love”. A satirical song about U.S. politics, consumerism, and U.S. pop culture, its lyrics feature both Russians and spaceships. I enjoy the song, but many friends thought it odd when it came out. Of course, that’s precisely why I enjoyed it.
I can’t keep up with what’s been going on
I think my heart must just be slowing down
Among the human beings in their designer jeans
Am I the only one who hears the screams
And the strangled cries of lawyers in love
God sends his spaceships to America, the beautiful
They land at six o’clock and there we are, the dutiful
Eating from TV trays, tuned in to Happy Days
Waiting for World War III while Jesus slaves
To the mating calls of lawyers in love
Last night I watched the news from Washington, the capitol
The Russians escaped while we weren’t watching them, like Russians will
Now we’ve got all this room, we’ve even got the moon
And I hear the U.S.S.R. will be open soon
As vacation land for lawyers in love
I find it humorous and love the musical flourishes which reflect different eras of pop music.
Time to rock and roll another day away. Hope that grace and peace finds and guides you. Have the best Frida possible. Cheers
I was in the kitchen, looking for a dropped blueberry. “What are you doing?” my wife asked as she came around the corner.
“I lost a blueberry. Do you see a blueberry on the floor?”
“No.” She and I squinted at the hardwood floor together. “You sure you lost i?”
“Pretty sure.” I missed Quinn. Anything hit the floor and black paws was after it fast. Almost everything scared him but he was always willing to approach and sniff before giving things a bat. His ability to spot these things was useful. Papi, on the other hand, has no interest in anything falling on the ground. I once dropped some treats on the floor to see what he would do. He sat and stared at the treat before turning a puzzled expression onto me.
Without Quinn, I could not find the blueberry. Nor could my wife. While I had her, I asked, “Should I change?” We were going to dinner. I was rocking light grey slacks and a white shirt.
Her eyes went nuclear. “Absolutely. Go put on your nice blue shirt.”
She walked off.
I looked down. Something was on the floor. I picked it up. Piece of granola. I remembered dropping it two days ago. I couldn’t find it.
Probably find the blueberry in two more days. I certainly can’t depend on Papi.
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
TL/DR: Get ready for a wilder, crazier TACO.
PINO Donald J. Trump is in ill health. Some of it has been admitted. We’re guessing at more.
His diet has never been a poster for healthy eating. That seems to be catching him and taking him down via obesity and chronic venous insufficiency. That latter is what they say he has. But basically, his swollen ankles point toward edema or lymphedema. Probably both. The point about any edema variation is that it’s usually an indicator of other failures, like heart, kidneys, or liver, and poor circulation. To combat the edemas requires changing diets, drinking more water while sucking up less soda, and exercising more. I don’t think the Trumpster has the discipline to do any of those things.
If he doesn’t change, he’ll get sicker. That will accelerate as he slides down the death rail at an increasingly faster rate. As he does, TACO will get flakier and more erratic, IMO. He’ll start doing wilder and more impulsive things to distract others from his impending demise. Always one to bloviate about his health and capabilities, never willing to admit a weakness or flaw, getting body slammed with sickness, diseases, and declining energy and abilities is sure to trigger him in bigly ways. And whatever happens, he’ll keep denying, denying, denying. That’s one reason why he won’t change his ways.
But he’ll keep up with his Trumpy style, bullying others, acting like a king, lashing out to gain greater fame and adulation, begging for a Nobel Peace Prize, bragging about how great and wonderful he is. Who knows what he’ll do with the military, economy, foreign relations, and the U.S. in general then. He’ll probably do something which he thinks is brilliant. The fawning sycophants surrounding him won’t tell him otherwise. The rest of us will probably be horrified.
So strap in and hang on. The Trump ride of horrors is probably gonna get weird.
Today is Wenzda, September 3, 2025. Keeping up with the pace set by the previous months, the days are whipping by. Some temp sources say it’s now 80 F or 77 F. My Oregon Scientific station declares that it’s 72 F under a brooding, sunless sky. Today’s upper edge will tap the mid 90s F.
Today is Visit Eve for us. Wife’s sister and her boyfriend arrive tomorrow for a three-day visit. We’ve dusted, vacuumed, swept, mopped, polished, and shined all we can. It’s in Fate’s hands now.
Strong winds woke me at 2 AM. I jumped up for a situation check and closed windows. When I opened a door to see what was going down, Papi bolted in past me, telling me with his feet and tail that he didn’t like the wind as he disappeared down the hall to his safe zone. That strong wind was warm, almost hot, completely void of the usual cool mountain breezes we know at night. It departed the area about an hour later. I found no damages this morning. Papi acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to him.
Yesterday was a day for visiting with family. Sis and I texted for an hour to get caught up on the happenings. Sis had a Labor Day cookout. Mom couldn’t attend because she was in too much pain. A second sister and several nieces and nephews were absent because ‘they have colds’. I hope it’s not more than colds. Mom’s 90th natal day is in October. A big do is planned. My wife and I are discussing going back for it. We’re in favor of doing so but my wife is unsure if she can handle a long aircraft flight. She’s in a lot of pain and discomfort these days, and is generally weak.
Dad called yesterday, too. We spoke for an hour on the phone. My stepbrother and his wife flew in, surprising Dad and his wife. Dad said they had a good visit. Beyond that, Dad just reminisced about his old military career. I just let him talk. It felt like that’s what he needed. He’s doing okay with his health, but must monitor his failing heart and kidneys.
Today’s song is “Messy” by Lola Young. Released in 2024, I like its stream-of-consciousness approach about herself and her relationship. The Neurons have it going in the morning mental music stream because they note that life under the Trump Regime is messy. He and they are the most combative, destructive, chaotic administration in my lifetime, which only goes back to 1956. Trump gives the finger to history and due process. Just last weekend, he was caught trying to illegally deport children. Children, unaccompanied by any adults. He and his henchmen thought they’d use Labor Day to ship these children out to Guatemala. Like WTF? Only evil shitheels in movies act like this. Beyond Trump’s outright evil, we can never tell where his greed and grifting will take us. We only know that it’ll take us further away from any norms in culture, class, democracy, and economics.
Here’s some “Messy” song lyrics.
You know I’m impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station
When it was like minus four degrees? And I
I get what you’re saying
I just really don’t wanna hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?
Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I’m gonna die, lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so, yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I’m not skinny and I pull a Britney every other week
But cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?
‘Cause I’m too messy
And then I’m just too damn clean
You told me, “Get a job,” then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect ’til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I’m too clever
And then I’m too stupid, dumb
You hate it when I cry unless it’s that time of the month
And I’m too perfect ’til I show you that I’m not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the whole damn lot
Coffee has leaped in to save me once again. Hope that grace and peace hold you and yours through it all today and forever. Let’s rock this Wenzda. Cheers
It’s one of those days when I read the news and let out slow air. First, the quake in Afghanistan. Only five miles deep, it killed over 800 at first count, and they’re still counting. Then the Sudan mudslide which was said to kill thousands. Sorry to read about all that pain and misfortune. I wish and hope for the best for the survivors. Will the U.S. send aid? Under previous administrations, that was almost a certainty. Under PINO TACO, it’s far less likely.
personnelente shared several links today. personnelente always offers links with interesting news and opinions. In this case, it was the Army Times taking up the issue of Trump deploying troops to cities.
The first read was The National Guard, DC landscaping and the great pursuit of lethality. In classic TACO Regime double standards, the Army Times points out what a big show Pete Hegseth made about the Army and ‘lethality’ back in December of 2024. First, the article points out that the national guard troops were authorized to be armed and use force “solely in response to an imminent threat,” according to a Guard statement. Then the article goes on to mock the use of these troops for landscaping duties, duties usually done by the National Parks Service but can’t be done because El TACO dismissed said NPS workers.
Great execution, Donnie boy!
Here’s the Times’ words to convey what’s going on:
Many guardsmen, however, were unaware the imminent threat posed would come in the form of unkempt flower beds and tree debris, their weapons akin to those wielded by an Anglo-Saxon fyrd under Alfred the Great.
But such is the reality for many of the 2,300 or so troops deployed to stem the “magnitude of the violent crime” in the nation’s capital, where threats of high-priced coffee, spandex-clad cyclists and more salmon pants than a Ralph Lauren factory loom around every pothole-riddled corner.
Various critics, meanwhile, have suggested the beautification work runs counter to Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s oft-repeated mission statement of bringing “a warfighting ethos back to the Pentagon.”
“Everything else that distracts [from lethality] shouldn’t be happening,” he told a reporter scrum back in December.
True warfighters instilled with the warfighting ethos, however, know that a warfighting ethos is only at its warfighting ethos-iest when warfighters are fighting a war on boredom.
The second Army Times article is Trump’s push for more troops in US cities at odds with crime stats. As many of us moored in facts and reality already noted, PINO TACO was sending in troops for a problem of violent crime that only exists in his brain and the MAGAheads who bow to him.
President Donald Trump has threatened to deploy the National Guard to Chicago, New York, Seattle, Baltimore, San Francisco and Portland, Oregon, to fight what he says is runaway crime. Yet data shows most violent crime in those places and around the country has declined in recent years.
Homicides through the first six months of 2025 were down significantly compared to the same period in 2024, continuing a post-pandemic trend across the U.S.
Trump, who has already taken federal control of police in Washington, D.C., has maligned the six Democratic-run cities that all are in states that opposed him in 2024. But he hasn’t threatened sending in the Guard to any major cities in Republican-leaning states.
John Roman, a data expert who directs the Center on Public Safety & Justice at the University of Chicago, acknowledged violence in some urban neighborhoods has persisted for generations. But he said there’s no U.S. city where there “is really a crisis.”
“We’re at a remarkable moment in crime in the United States,” he said.
But these are facts. Truth. Both are those are alien to Trumpworld, where his crazy vision distorts reality and maligns history. Of course, as many point out, much of what he says and does now and forever is to distract us from other things, things which really worry him. Things like Donald Trump’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein and what the Epstein file might say about him.

Trump is also trying to distract We the People from things like Trump’s failing health, his flailing efforts to end wars or improve the economy, and his dim chances to win the Nobel Peace Prize. He’s going down fast.

I don’t think it’ll be fast enough for many.