Category: Information

Mundaz Theme Music

Today is Munda, December 15, 2025. Sixteen days remain in 2025. It’ll be a memorable year for historians.

Clouds capped Ashlandia’s sky. Rain is s’posed to be headin’ our way. 38 degrees F now, we may see fifty.

Peace and grace took more hits this weekend. Murderers struck in Australia and Brown University. There were absolutely more murders and shootings than these two this weekend. These two were the ones which seized attention because of their planned cruelty. They seem like an extension of the mindset which put DJ Trump into the building formerly known as the White House for a second term. Part of a sad world where war and killing equals peace and justice. Same as it ever was, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

Then we came to the murder of Rob Reiner and his wife. Stabbed to death by their son. That kind of news bankrupts my soul, especially on top of the shootings.

Today’s music is a Velvet Underground offering called, “What Goes On”. I didn’t know of it when it first came out in ’68. Learned of it a few years later. Just fascinated me. It was the beat, the guitar, the organ, the drum, the lyrics and vocals. “One minute born, one minute doomed. One minute up, one minute down. What goes on in your mind?”

Today’s presence in the morning mental music stream was jogged when I questioned the poem, “A Visit from St. Nicholas”, later known as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”. We heard it recited with some humorous music accompaniment at a holiday concert yesterday. St. Nick was covered with soot coming down the chimney. I commented that he must have been filthy by the night’s end. My wife said, “No, he’d be cleaned by Christmas magic.” Which lead to my observation that Christmas Magic would be a good name for a dry-cleaning service. Which precipitated the wonder, “What goes on in your mind.”

Musing around dream gyrations and yesterday and other things, the comment returned to me. The Neurons caught it and the song came on.

Stay warm and safe, wherever you are. Hope peace and grace do a quick cameo for the cameras. Coffee has me going again. Oh, it’s raining, first precipitation of December. And off we go. Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

Ah, Sunda. December 14, 2025. Was 29 F and sunny, with clouds. That was an hour ago. Now it’s 30 with dense fog. High of 50 something forecasted. We never reach those forecasted highs these days. At least, not in the last seven days. I know, it’s a small sample size.

The weather disparity reflects a greater wonder, how is what Trump has done affect our systems and abilities? How long will it take for that delta to become fully revealed. Conversely, does that delta even exist, or is this a product of my life in a news bubble? And if the bubble exists, how long will it take for us to address and fix it? Some will probably hastily explain, oh, AI can fix it all. But AI comes with its own problems and introduces more problems. So it goes, as it has since technology has begun advancing and displacing people and changing experiences and expectations.

It’s kicked off between Mom and sis again. Sis complains that Mom yells at her and complains all the time. So sis yells back. Mom complains that sis is always yelling at her. Meanwhile, my youngest sister won’t talk to Mom. Says Mom is always yelling at her and is tired of it. Oldest sister has been completely disengaged, and sister number three has, in sis’s words, checked out. All this dysfunction is deeply rooted in family history. It’s a sad culmination of a lot of ongoing anger and resentment. Of course, I checked out decades ago, after one of Mom’s husbands threatened me. Saw the future and abandoned everyone. I’m not proud of it but I was a child. I admit, it left me damaged, too. We’re all damaged.

Of course, it comes down to one of those, “What are you going to do?”, situations. We’ve seen this coming for years. Tried to plan to prevent it. Living with Frank, and with Frank helping her, Mom resisted and refused to cooperate. So we held our breath and went on. Now the worse that we feared is happening. I, of course, feel helpless. Most of my sisters seem angry. They have heavier and deeper damage from life with Mom.

Worse of all is how often this sort of situation and worse is replayed around the nation, around the world. We advance, and yet we’re stuck. We’re smart, and we’re stupid. We can see ahead but can do nothing.

All of this extends well beyond families, of course. We see the same kind of helplessness in business, education, the environment, animal and human rights, agriculture. Just adds to the tension and frustration for us that we see but can’t act.

Been reading of all the flood damage up in Washington and northwestern Oregon. The rain amounts and river levels hit historic highs. Messy and disastrous. Stories of dramatic rescues are interspersed with stories, videos and photos of mudslides, houses floating in rivers, huge waves battering the coast, bridges and roads collapsing. State of emergency declared in Washington. I’m surprised that Trump and FEMA approved requested emergency assistance. Let’s see if they deliver. Meanwhile, hope everyone affected can find safe places to endure and recover.

I wonder what fresh heaping will come with the next tomorrow. That triggers The Neurons. They play “Tomorrow Comes Today” by Gorillaz for me. I watch quite a bit of Brit and Irish TV, especially dramas, SF, and police procedurals, and believe I picked up the song from one of those. I often pursuing hearing more of a song when I hear parts of it on a television show or movie.

Coffee has come to rescue me for the moment. Hope peace and grace finds us all and gives us some respite from whatever is stymying and hurting us. Here we, into another day. Cheers

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Floofcretion

Floofcretion (floofinition) – 1. A product of animal discharges, body ejections, shedding, etc.. Origins: 1846, from A Home Guide for Life with Animals.

In Use: “Michael loved his cats but admitted that their floofcretion — hairballs, shedded fur and whiskers, and litter box donations — sometimes wore him out.”

2. The quality of an animal’s ability to be cautious or reserved. Origins: Middle flooflish from the 14th century.

In Use: “The two puppies were completely different, with Normal being the soul of floofcretion, never barking or whining, always happy and gently playful, while his sister, Abby, terrorized feet, shoes, socks, and furniture, raging with loud barks and growls whenever anyone exercised the temerity to approach the house.”

3. Ability to right to judge, rule, or govern an animal’s sounds, activities, or behavior. Origins: 17th century, noted first written use found in A Book of Rulings for the Governance of Animals in Homes.

In Use: “Many humans think that if they let animals like cats and dogs into their homes, floofcretion is theirs by fiat, but the animals often turn the tables on humans when it comes to matters like what the animal can eat, where they can sleep, what they can attack, when they can race around the house…and other irritating but endearing flooftivities.”

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

8 AM. Satyrda, December 13, 2025. I put the green bag out for collection. Frowned in dismal frustration. The fog was back.

Fog has been sitting on us like a cat who decides you’re their favorite napping spot. Except a cat is usually pretty warm. This fog is not. It’s been days of cold, lingering fog. Entire week except yesterday afternoon.

Yesterday afternoon brought us a break. The fog pulled back. Sunshine spilled in. Temperatures jumped into the forties. Yes, I said to myself. The fog is gone. I figured it was probably a premature celebration but hoped I was wrong. I wasn’t wrong. It was premature, with the fog back with the same intensity this morning that it displayed on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday…

Back in the house, I asked Alexa about the weather. “Forty degrees and clear,” she said.

I checked my system. 29 degrees F. Looked out the window.

“Why do you ask Alexa every morning when you always think she’s wrong?” my wife asked.

It was a reasonable question. I’d asked myself the same. “I want to know how wrong it is,” I said.

Going online, I checked Southern Oregon University’s weather station down on The Farm. It also said 29 F. But online national systems were telling me, no, it’s 40 F. One even claims it’s 50 F and sunny. Such a disparity.

A Facebook memory reminds me that ten years ago, we were dealing with heavy snow on this date. This has been a terribly dry but cold December so far.

The neighbor’s yard on the left of my yard, ten years ago.

While looking out the window today, I thought, I don’t think the sun’s coming out today. Of course, that’s an irrational thought. The sun was out there, as it always is as we spin and race through space. Just that fog was preventing it from reaching us in the strong and meaningful ways that I prefer.

The Neurons caught my thoughts. They’re always spying on me, so I wasn’t surprised. They responded with “Change” by Blind Melon in the morning mental music stream. No doubt, the first line influenced them: “I don’t feel the sun’s comin’ out today.” Beyond weather and the sun, I find the song a thoughtful reflection about feeling disenchanted and challenging yourself about what you’re going to do about it.

Coffee has come to save me again in what little ways it can. Hope peace and grace come by your place for a bit. Here we go, one more time. Cheers

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Fridaz Wandering Political Thoughts

‘Trump Gold Card’ launches, offering expedited immigration pathway with a $1 million fee

Trump shows his true colors — gold — again. Doesn’t care about freedom. Democracy. Health. People. The environment, the nation, nor the world. Just power. Wealth. Gold.

Shouldn’t be long before his campaign launches:

“Got gold?”

He’s a crime against humanity.

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Fridaz Theme Music

Good morning from Ashlandia. It’s foggy today, Frida, December 12, 2025. Think I’ll return to bed. Sleep it out until the fog is gone.

I brew about that while I make my morning brew. What aggrieves me a lot about this is that Alexa is oblivious to the fact. It tells me, “It’s 41 degrees with clear skies in Ashland. Today’s high will be fifty blah blah blah.”

I stopped listening to it. My system says its 31 F. My eyes tell me it’s foggy. No sunshine, no sunshine. Alexa is wrong with the weather today just as she was wrong yesterday and the day before. I don’t think Alexa provided correct weather on any day this week. I don’t know if this is a symptom of Alexa’s failings or a failure caused by the National Weather Service. I further don’t know if the NWS failure was caused by Trump’s DOGE cuts or something else.

Fog socked us in all day yesterday. It’s a freezin’ fog sort, clinging to your exposed skin like it’s trying to suck your warmth out of you. Sort of like some sort of horror movie critter. What’s also interesting about being enclosed in heavy fog for days on end is that we used to get NWS warnings issued for that condition. We were getting them last week. We received none this week.

Photo of downtown Ashland, Oregon, taken in the afternoon, 12/11/2025.

The Trump Regime has successfully created a fog of confusion, distrust, and uncertainty. It’s not just in the areas of the weather and weather warnings, either.

Today’s song is by The Dave Matthews Band. My wife uses the expression, “What would you (say or do) if I told you (something about something).” She was using it yesterday. Paying attention to that, The Neurons brought the song, “What Would You Say” into the morning mental music stream.

The jaunty 1994 song features some interesting lines, such as, “Don’t drop the big one.” A song for our times. Fun video to watch, as the band invests strong energy and passion into their music.

Headlines tell me that Trump pardoned Tina Peters for her election theft efforts. He’s loyal to the lawless. Her pardon does nothing for her because he’s Fed and she’s incarcerated under state law. IEarlier this week, Trump was threatening the International Criminal Court not to go after him or any of his cabinet members for the murders and other crimes they’ve done, just as Putin would warn. Trump also tried bullying Indiana into gerrymandering their districts to save his rear against losing more seats. The Indiana GOP turned him down.

Trumpy Dumpty is also on a tour to convince everyone that he and the GOP are successfully making everything affordable again even if affordability is just a hoax and Trump says it’s not his fault, anyway, it’s all because of Trump’s favorite scapegoat, President Biden, even though…Trump used to campaign on stopping inflation and making everything better on Day 1. Heather Cox Richardson provides a lucid summary in her December 11, 2025 post.

That Trump’s boasting, cajoling, and bullying has a desperate frenzy urgency can’t be denied. He’s losing the plot and he’s losing popularity. Democrats are pretty firmly against him. The young are turning against him, as are Latinos and Independents. Soon, all that will remain will be white Republicans. And when they realize how unpopular, unsuccessful, and unintelligible he is, they, too, will quietly walk away.

Got my coffee. Think I’ll add a little peace and grace to it. Hope you have some peace and grace in your Frida. Here we go. Cheers

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