Sunday’s Theme Music – Days like this

Ashland, southern Oregon — Sunday, May 10, 2026.

Happy Mother’s Day to the mothers in the United States. Oh, what the heck, make it to the mothers of the world, no matter your religion, nationality, or species.

It’s 65 F in Ashland with light clouds mildly blocking the sunshine. Our high will hit the upper 70s, giving us pleasant holiday weather.

I’d written a post earlier. Edge crashed, taking the post with it. WordPress hadn’t ‘autosaved’ it, so there was nothing to show that I’d been typing and thinking. Foolishly, I hadn’t saved it myself.

After that, I decided, I’m taking a hiatus from thinking about the news today and commenting on it. Do a MDB: Mother’s Day Blackout.

That’s when the 1995 Van Morrison song entered the morning mental music stream. I retired from the US Air Force in ’95. I heard this song on the radio in one of the first few days of life after wearing a military uniform for twenty years.

I wasn’t employed for the first time since 1974. Wasn’t really looking yet, either; I had my retirement pension. My wife was getting antsy, though. Still, I’d decided to take time off for myself. There would be other days for work.

That happened in early November. By December, I was employed and was fortunate to remain employed for another twenty years.

Today has a similar vibe to my memory of that 1995 day. Look at how over thirty years have passed, and here I sit, feeling like I’m at another threshold. Then again, every day is another threshold.

Remembered Lyrics

When you don’t need to worry there’ll be days like this
When no one’s in a hurry there’ll be days like this
When you don’t get betrayed by that old Judas kiss
Oh my mama told me there’ll be days like this

When you don’t need an answer there’ll be days like this
When you don’t meet a chancer there’ll be days like this

When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit
Then I must remember there’ll be days like this

Hope your Mother’s Day is a good day for you and yours, no matter your sex, gender, whatever. Just celebrate the day, rejoice in what is, and make something to build in.

Coffee is here. Cheers

The Comparison: Computer, Trump

It feels like my computer is starting to treat me like it’s Trump. It doesn’t tell me what’s going on or give me a reliable time window.

I’m accustomed to my computer telling me to do things but explaining why it’s doing things. They gave me options: do you want to update and shutdown, or shutdown without updating? Other options were also available.

Along those lines, the computer would inform me about how long it would take — three minutes, two minutes, six.

Yes, they were using computer time. This is not ordinary time. Comparable times are shopping time and waiting time.

“It’ll be just a minute,” I hear. “Maybe two.” Those minutes compound into ten. Fifteen.

Worse, though, are NFL minutes. Especially the last two minutes of a half or game. I did some research and the average final two minutes of an NFL game lasts ten to twenty minutes. Some estimates show that the final two minutes of a four-quarter NFL football game can consume about five to ten percent of the game’s total time, which is wild if you think about it.

The NFL does give us a ‘two-minute warning’. Unfortunately, they’re very terse about it. “This is the two-minute warning.” They should add, “The next two minutes can take anywhere from two and half minutes to eternity. Go use the restroom now, get something to eat and drink, and let your family know where you are.”

Computer time has now overtaken the NFL’s final time minutes as ‘the time that can’t be measured’. My computer doesn’t tell me many times now how long updates or searches will take. It leaves it vague: “This might take a few minutes.”

You think?

I was running a process to check for memory leaks the other night. Yes, on my computer, not for me.

Anyway, the computer warned me, “This might take a few minutes.”

Thirty minutes later, I was still waiting for an update.

And that’s like Trump. Time doesn’t mean anything when he makes promises or projections. Well, neither do facts, for the most part.

For example: Trump was asked when he would come up with his replacement for ACA. Two weeks, he told us, over five years ago.

When will the Iran war end? “When I feel it in my bones.”

Great.

Sounds just like my computer.

When will the search be finished?

“When I feel it in my hardware.”

Thank you for your attention to this matter!

Internetus Interruptus

Our Internet connection was down this weekend. Started Saturday and dragged through Sunday.

We use Ashland Home Net. Owned by the city, we want to support our city. The service has been reliable. Like everything, though, there can sometimes be outages.

The net went down Saturday afternoon. We gave it time to come back up. Didn’t. So — reboot system. Still no connectivity.

I called our service provider and left a message. It’s a small organization and they don’t have someone in the office at night and on weekends. But they check their messages and get back to you.

They did get back to us on Sunday. We were out. I had my cell phone with me. “Private number” it said. I ignored it. Later, I listened to the message, which was Ashland Home Net telling me that they couldn’t find a record of our account.

*grumble grumble*

When we were home after our Easter festivities with friends, I pulled our records to call Ashland Home Net and give them our account number. The folder had notes from previous issues and fixes. This included one from 2023: “Netgear router inadvertently reset (button on side — beware).” I had the Netgear instruction pamphlet attached to the folder.

Aha.

I pulled out the pamphlet, followed the instructions, and got us back online.

I also called Ashland Home Net and gave them our account number, just to close that loop. And they called back, apologized for not being able to find us, baffled by that side of it, confirming that we were online again and weren’t experiencing any more interruptus.

Normal online life resumed.

Monday’s Theme Music – Giddy

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, April 6, 2026.

Feeling giddy and upbeat today. Had a good Easter Sunday overall, marred only by some Internet Interruptus. Today is bright and sunny. 54, a few gangs of small clouds flutter through a blue sky. We expect a high in the upper 70s.

First, bad news: Jackson County declared a drought emergency. Not a surprise. We suffered a snow-drought during the winter. The snowpack we depend upon for our summer water supply didn’t reach 50% in many places. A hot, dry summer is anticipated.

Then I read USA Today online. They invited readers to grade Trump and his cabinet.

While there were some glowing A’s and middling C’s, there was also a deluge of brutally low marks that would cow the cockiest 12th grader. Of the more than 700 of you who sent in grades through March 31, just 28 of you gave Trump an A or a B. About 40 of you gave the president a C or a D, while more than 500 of you gave him an F. (The remaining assessments were nearly all lower than F.)

USA Today noted in another story that Trump blew off another of his campaign promises.

While running for reelection in 2024, he had said that his administration would help alleviate the costs of childcare and fund Medicaid and Medicare. Instead, Republicans have done the opposite by slashing Medicaid funding in the congressional budget. They have no plan to make childcare more affordable for their constituents.

Way to go, Trump voters. Prices are higher, the national debt is higher and growing, and we’re in a war that nobody except Trump and his staff want.

Today’s music is Papi-inspired. He was being frisky, zooming around the living room and down halls, galloping around the bedrooms. Then he came up to me and was suddenly all sweet and friendly.

That brought a song to The Neurons by Jet, “Are You Gonna Be My Girl?”

The version I was singing was, “Are you gonna be my cat?” from 2003. Papi seemed to agree with the sentiment, if his purrs are an indication. Now, though, the song is mired in my morning mental music stream.

Hope you have a strong Monday, one that gives the hope and energy to build a strong week and stack strong months.

Cheers

First World Blues — We Crashing

I bought a new computer in August 2025.

Although sold under Dell, I believe it is actually a Crash Laptop. It runs a Microsoft Crash 11 OS on which I run Microsoft Crash Edge, FireCrash, and Google Crash Chrome.

They’re always telling me empty and clean the cache. My cache is shiny and clean with emptiness.

They tell me turn off graphic accelerators and extensions. I would but they’ve already been turned off months ago.

I’m told to uninstall, reinstall, and update drivers and browsers.

Helpful sites suggest closing tabs or blame sites that are ‘video heavy’. You know, like Gmail, WordPress (and every blog site), Facebook, Google, Bing, YouTube, NYTimes, NextDoor, Animal Rescue Site, LoveMeow, ground.news, SFGate, Mock Paper Scissors, Daily Kos, The Hill, MS Now, APNews, WaPo, LitHub, MilitaryTimes, Seattle Times, LA Times, Daily Times, Guardian, the Mirror, and any game.

Dell says it can’t help me. My problem is beyond its warranty.

I am so happy with my Crash Dell.

On the bright side, every browser has an AI which I can use until it crashes.

My old computer using to crash once in a while. Had it for almost eight years. MS and others said, “Oh, you’re using Windows 10. Bad Juju. Change to 11 and all will be well.”

Snort. Chuckle.

What a sucker I am.

Just the Facts, Please

A headline drew me in this morning.

Francis Buchholz, Scorpions’ hurricane-rocking ex-bassist, dead at 71

I enjoy the Scorpions and their music. They had many hits, and a good friend of mine was a power fan of the group.

Poor guy, I thought, thanks for the music, and gee — just a little older than me.

I opened the story and read, stopping at this paragraph:

Scorpions had already been going for years with another bassist when Buchholz, who was born Jan. 19, 1950 in Hanover, West Germany, joined.

Hold on. If Buchholz was born in 1950, how in the world of math is he 71?

I searched his name for the answer. One article said he was 75. Other places said he was 71, born in 1954. At least that math works.

I wondered, what are the facts? It reinforced my worry, erroneous information spreads too easily on the net.

No wonder we seem confused and polarized. In the digital age, you can’t always be sure of the facts — even when you look for it.

Wenzdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Wenzda finds me in a cheerful mood after reading some news.

Slop is the word of the year. The slop and state of the U.S. reminds me of the early Nazi efforts, back in the early 1930s. The German Nationalist party was still calling themselves socialists while attacking unions and communists, trying to get a grip on the population’s support. That grip finally came when the economic situation became dire. With employment hemorrhaging, unemployment rising, industry and trade faltering, prices rising, affordability decreasing, and shortages increasingly common, the NAZIs finally gained control. Patient and duplicitous, they were in it for the long haul.

This does remind me of now. Trump is a front. A distraction. His antics, nonsensical babble, tirades, and failing health give cover. His regime’s Project 2025 players feverishly work on making things worse behind the scenes. They push tariffs on Trump in the name of returning industry and economic power to the U.S. They’re bright enough to know that it’s really raising prices, reducing trade, decreasing tax revenues, while increasing the deficit.

This is all about manipulating the economy, which lets them manipulate consumers, which permits manipulation of voters. This is about making voters angry, desperate, and distrustful of the government, the media, and everyone else. This is about setting the stage for the next phase of their takeover.

They easily lie to Trump about what’s going on. They keep him in a bubble and feed him fake numbers. Trump, being the restless, self-centered, low-information guy who he is, easily swallows their lies. He wants and needs to believe it’s working because to combat his insecurity and the secret despair of how inferior he is. Information about his falling poll numbers is fed to him. He’s reminded that this is former President Biden‘s fault. That it’s fake news. That increases Trump’s frenzy and increases his distraction.

It’s well-established that when Trump gets more distracted and frenzied, he doesn’t calm down. He doesn’t step back to think. He spins up the crazy. Lying and cheating made him a ‘successful’ businessman. Spinning up the crazy got him a ‘reality’ show. Becoming crazier, and more openly hateful and sexist — telling it like it is — won him elections. Tacitly encouraged by his handlers, he’ll spin up to dangerously unstable levels.

Meanwhile, the Project 2025 folks will smile or look away. Let Trump go off and destroy himself. Go ahead, take down the GOP. Most Republican elected officials lack principles. They just want to remain in office. That keeps them relevant only in the minds of voters who don’t pay attention. Voters with short memories, little understanding of history, and less interest in thinking about it. They don’t want to think of themselves as dupes.

Trump’s handlers aren’t too concerned about the midterm elections or even 2028 POTUS elections. They give less than a fuck about the GOP and any ‘vision’ they might put forward. No, let them talk and strut. Just as we know who they are, so do the creators of Project 2025.

This is the long game. The serious right wingers, once called Neocons until that became tarnished and flailed, started their destabilization efforts in the United States long ago. Remember PNAC? PNAC wasn’t a failure. It did the job needed and was put to bed. Project 2025 is another step after PNAC and the Foreign Policy Initiative.

This is just the middle segment of the long game. They don’t have the right leader for the next phase. Not yet. They know it’s not JD Vance. Like Trump, Vance is easily manipulated, bent, and controlled. Like Trump, Vance is greedy and vain. But Vance lacks Trump’s charisma and oversized personality. He doesn’t lie and bloviate with Trump’s charm. Vance looks, smells, acts, and sounds like a snake oil hawker.

No, they need someone else. It wasn’t going to be Charlie Kirk. He was just riding on Trump’s coattails. Somewhere out there is Project 2025’s next leader to destroy the U.S.’s democratic republic and replace it with a white Christian fascist state run by oligarchs and true believers.

That leader could be a woman, a woman with charisma and charm, who can smile while lying and get everyone to laugh along with them, a woman who hates other women, who desires power because she’s morally bankrupt and needs attention to fill the many holes in her spirit. Basically, a female Trump.

Such a woman could speak to other woman and convince them that she should be the first female POTUS. She would deny Project 2025 — just as Trump did — and vow to restore the United States. She’ll fix the economy and restore dignity to the office and return rights to Americans. Then, in office, she’ll fill her cabinet with a new version of MAGA sycophants and play from a new edition of the latest update to Project 2025. Because remember, Project 2025 was written for now, the middle segment of their long con, to take advantage of POTUS 47’s availability and his staunch base.

The next phase is out there, waiting to be written and put in place. Unless we can do something about that AI slop and the disastrous Trump Effect on the United States being fostered by the Heritage Foundation and Project 2025.

And that must begin now.

No kings? Hell, no crazies. No NAZIs.

No slop.

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Greetings to my fellow humans and coffee ants. It’s Wenzda! Humpda! December 17 2025.

Ashlandians find ourselves in warmer weather with less fog. We’re hanging at about 40 degrees F. Light gray clouds with low bellies soldier past sunlit dark green evergreens. The clouds tear and break as they meet the trees. Another slice of sky features darker clouds mingling with bright blue sky. All shines with a rainy sheen, waiting to dry off. Today’s high will strike 47 F, ‘they’ say. We’re unsure they’ll be correct.

Slop is the word of the year. Hard to argue with that. In this information age, disinformation sown and furthered by AI’s efforts to entertain and uneducate the masses while undermining political will and decision-making owns many media outlets and social platforms.

Some of this is deliberately done. Feeling down? Go shopping! Look at these deals!

Not into shopping? Tune into NASCAR. NBA, NFL, college football, college basketball, hockey, volleyball, oh, boy the Olympics are coming! The world cup!

Eat our new food! Buy our new stuff! Watch our new show! Enjoy our new movie! Don’t like them, then watch the old movies, the old sitcoms, the old dramas, and remember how it used to be. Don’t think. Just sit back and relax. Let us take care of you.

What a way to end the year, mired in slop, wondering WTF is going to happen next year. Will the U.S. wage open war on Venezuela or go all in with Russia against the Ukraine? Trump is all for that. War for peace. “We can only win peace if we’re strong enough to fight for it,” he’ll snarl. And enough Americans are simple enough to eagerly nod agreement. We got all that military power. Shame not to use it, right?

Thinking about slop as the word of the year has The Neurons laughing. “Slop is the word is the word that you heard. It’s got groove, it’s got meaning. Slop is the time, is the place, is the motion. Slop is the way we are feeling.”

The Neurons might be on to something this time.

Anyway, they slotted “Grease” as sung by Frankie Valli in the movie, Grease, in the morning mental music stream. Except we’re singing ‘slop’ instead of ‘grease’.

Okay, coffee is greasing me up. Hope peace and grace break through the slop and make a cameo sometime in 2025’s final days. Here we go again. Cheers

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