

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not

The price of gas has fallen in the US, and so quickly!
Now it’s just $.95 a gallon more than it was when Trump took office in 2025.
Follow me here. That means that if I buy ten gallons a week every week, I’m only spending $9.50 a week more, or just $494 a year more. Peanuts, really!
I’m doing even better with my electricity. Used to cost me $159 a month back in January 2025. Now I’m only paying $183 a month!
I’m laughing all the way to the bank.
Grocery prices, too, are really falling, and fast! Used to cost me $235 a week for groceries, and now it’s just $243 a week. Hahahaha. I’m only paying $9 a week more, just $468 more a year! My gosh, isn’t this great?
Add it all up, and I’m only spending $1,250 a year more than eighteen months ago, and it’s all coming down so quickly!
And don’t get me started on my healthcare insurance. Really, don’t. Please. There’s no comparison to be made because I can no longer buy insurance. That’s cool, though, that’s cool. I’m kind of young. Kind of healthy. Just a little overweight and diabetic, with a little stiffness, although I don’t sleep well and I feel tired all the time.
But man, things are going so great now that ICE is rounding up all those people. Yep, it’s all so great.
So very, very great.
Thursday, August 6, 2026. Ashland, southern Oregon.
Another hot one in store for us. Funny in an odd way but many sources show yesterday’s high for our town as 91 F. But my car registered 104. My home registered 101.5. Other friends had the same experience with their cars, phones, and homes.
Whatever yesterday’s true high was, today expects to clip 100. Smoke is streaking the blue sky, coloring it with gray.
The news from Trumpland continues along fantasy lines. Trump thinks everything is going great. He wants battleships built! And ice-breakers! The latter seems like a sweetheart deal for some other corrupt cohort. Wonder how much Trump will get as a kickback?
With Democrats winning, Trump is wringing his hands and worrying again about stolen elections. Never offers evidence, just claims.
“MY REAL POLL NUMBERS ARE THE HIGHEST THEY HAVE EVER BEEN” Trump claims.
Yet, all the evidence says, no it’s not, dude.
But that is the Trumpster. Is he fantasizing or does he live in a fantasy world? Perhaps he’s just trying to appease his tired, broken ego. Maybe — maybe — others are feeding him this to buoy his spirits. Based on Trump’s track record of making stupid statements and acting like an idiot, he may actually be dumb enough to believe that he’s very popular.
It’s also possible that Trump is making these claims as part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!
His Iran war is not going well. The US — largest military in the world — needs to resupply itself because Trump and Hegseth have wasted so much. The Trump economy isn’t doing well, either, with growth down and prices up.
As election results rolled in from Michigan, there came a distinct response from Trump that shouted, oh no! Because he immediately began spinning tales from the election theft crypt.
Then there are also more FAFO stories like this one, with MAGAts who proudly voted for Trump now whining about what he’s doing.
The Neurons think that “Hey You” by Pink Floyd is right for this day. I assume that’s why they put it into the morning mental music stream. They specifically channeled these lines:
But it was only fantasy
The wall was too high, as you can see
No matter how he tried, he could not break free
And the worms ate into his brain
That’s pretty Trump, getting trapped in his own fantasies while something eats his brain. Our challenge it to keep his fantasy from doing more damage and then rebuilding to recover from it.
May your day progress on solid truth, moving you and yours toward a better place, where we will no longer deal with the madness of Trump.
Cheers
First, a few quotes to remind us who Trump is, in his own words.



On to the circus…














I wasn’t in the military. Young again, I discovered that I’d volunteered to do something. Many others had volunteered. We were waiting for the results.
While doing that, we went into a chowhall. The place seemed chaotically organized. I decided to fix a burrito. I managed to get a plate, tortilla, beans, rice, but then could find nothing else. I was watching people select other foods but none of those foods were familiar. I eventually found some corn chips. Crunching them up, I added them to my burrito and ate it. It was not very satisfying.
An announcement was then made. I, along with others, had been chosen for a special project. We were being told that it was a great honor and we would do a wonderful job. I have no idea what that was about, although I seemed to understand it in the dream.
We were told that we had new quarters we’d be sharing. Find someplace and stake a claim.
I knew no one else there; in fact, that seemed common: no one knew anyone else. So I’d be bunking with strangers.
I entered what was indicated as available quarters. What I encountered wasn’t what I expected. The walls were painted in bright white. Furnished, it was strangely arranged and organized. Wide, tall, the floor sloped like a meadow. Different rooms were indicated via arched halls. Whole thing reminded me of a hobbit’s place.
I encountered one of the others. A tall, white guy, bald, he was in Air Force dress blues. I gawked at his medals and ribbons; they were a collection unlike any I’d ever seen.
I told him so. Abashed, he replied, “Oh, yes, they rewarded me for being part of some special projects, but they weren’t really anything.” He then explained two of them but I don’t recall those details. One was a huge, blue and white ribbon with a large gold B on it.
Needing to use a restroom, I spotted one ‘down the living room slope’. The bathroom was a small, well lit cave with a rounded entry and door. The bathroom itself was gold and pink. Strings of bright white and gold lights were attached to the arched door frame.
I went in and sat on the commode, then tried to close the door. It would not stay close. We have to fix this, I thought.
A tall, muscular black woman in green shorts and a green top pushed the door in. I told her the room was in use. Never saying anything, she left.
The door remained open. Going out, she called out to the man in the dress uniform, “I can give you three four eight for seven. That should get you there.”
Leaving the room, I did up my clothes and asked in general, “What’s that mean?”
Dream end.
I was in the living room, doing light exercises and watching the television.
It was 10 PM. The temperature had hit 101.5 F at our house. Now it had dropped to 80. I’d gone around, opening the windows to cool us off.
Strong skunk smells began coming in with the cool air. Cursing, I went around closing the windows I’d opened about ten minutes before.
As I was doing this, my wife came in. “I heard something knock over a garbage can.”
“Our garbage can?” I asked. It’s behind a fence so –
“I don’t know where it was. I think it was on the street.”
Confirming that Papi was safely inside, my wife went to the front door. Picking up a flashlight, I joined her, turning on the porch light and unlocking the door. She did a little start. As I went out, she took hold of my shirt and followed.
I shined the flashlight along the dark street. Sirens were rising. Emergency vehicles raced along the main road about a hundred feet below us.
“See any trashcans?” my wife asked.
“Just that one.” I shone the light on a bulky shape across the street.
“That trashcan has eyes,” my wife said.
“It does,” I agree.
At that point, we knew it was a bear. Black bears are common in our area. Down on all fours, the bear looked about four feet tall at its shoulders. It casually turned and took a few steps toward us.
My wife took a few steps backwards.
I laughed.
The bear disappeared behind some bushes lining the street. “Let’s go in the house,” I suggested.
“Okay.” As we went in, my wife said, “I was ready to give you a quick push and then shuffle backwards into the house.”
I chuckled. “I wasn’t worried. I know I’m faster than you.”
She laughed.
I looked back with the flashlight. The beer loped up the street.
My wife said, “I smell skunk.”
We went inside. I resumed closing the windows.