So we come to Frida. Frida’s here at last. However you might feel about it, the day is sure to pass. Might go slow, might be low, or it could be blindingly quick. Whatever happens on this day, there could be some that make you sick. But if you persevere and get through again, you might come away with a win. So try a smile on your face, then set your pace, better yet, make it a grin.
Yep, it’s Frida, October 17, 2025. 45 F in Ashlandia around my home, we’re learning toward an upper sixties high. 70 F might be found for some. Depends on the winds and the air, the clouds and the sun. As of now, sunshine is dashing off the huge old oak’s golden leaves across the street, startling brilliant against an unmarked blue sky.
Awoke from a solid night of zee and some startling, vivid dreams, and arose in a spirited mood. Thinking about the past, present, and future, The Neurons gifted me with a Bryan Adams song which captures my Frida energy. They projected “Summer of 69” into my morning mental music stream, offering a rocking early morning. Feel free to look back and sing along, if you’re old enough to look back, and know the words, ‘course.
Coffee is plowing the body with its offering. Hope grace and peace climbs out of the shadows and leaps forward to help us all as we launch into the No Kings protests this weekend. Just for the record, the Ashland No Kings II rally doesn’t have permits, but many are planning to be there to exercise their rights.
It’s opposite day at the Trump White House.Again. If they say everything is great, you know enshittification is rising. In this case, they tell us that everything is going great at the national parks.
Today is Thirstda, October 16, 2025. Fall sky and trees are in concert with sunshine and a spectrum of leafy colors to play against blue. Kind of visual that shows up on postcards and travelogues. Chilly 47 F but dry. Sun and air will take us to the upper sixties.
Met with my supplier last night. “Here,” she said, offering a brown paper bag. I glanced around for police or witnesses before accepting the bag. “Thanks.” She smiled. “Enjoy.”
Back in the truck, I told my driver, “Hit it.” Only then did I open the bag and peer in. Grins spread over my expression at the pretty collection of late-season figs.
Bad news for us on the ‘No Kings’ front. Ashland’s rally for this Satyrda was canceled. Couldn’t get a permit. We’ll attend the one in Medford instead.
The Epstein Shutdown has consumed over half of October of 2025. We’re still well short of the longest shutdown. That would be the Trump Shutdown of 2018-2019, which lasted 35 days. Large differences between the two include what DOGE did to the government before this shutdown, gutting the Federal infrastructure, mobilizing national guard units before this shutdown, and the deepening darkness of what’s going on with Federal spending as those functions have been kneecapped or muted. Also different this time is the capitulation of so many mainstream media outlets, aided by billionaire ownership who donate and support Trump. Last, of course, is the notorious masked ICE. They weren’t the unleashed paramilitary group they now are. Led by Kristi Noem, this force has demonstrated an eagerness to violently assault anyone who might by the wrong skin color, is in the wrong place, speaks with the wrong accent, or rolls their eyes at them.
The unsurprising news was delivered to us today that Mom’s boyfriend, Frank, passed away this morning. He would have been 96 in January. Love and light to Frank.
When Frank had his fall that precipitated his hospital stay and passing, he didn’t want Mom to call an ambulance or take him to the hospital. Told her that he was fine.
Today’s song is for Frank. Frank was a rock, dependable, reliable, steady, consistent. Not surprising that The Neurons placed “Carry On” by Fun in the morning mental music stream when the news came. Sample lyrics.
If you’re lost and alone Or you’re sinking like a stone. Carry on. May your past be the sound Of your feet upon the ground. Carry on.
Time to carry on after a few more gulps of coffee. Hope peace and grace finds us and lifts us up, and does so pretty damn soon. Okay, here we go. Cheers
This was a variation of a dream which I’ve had several times. It’s been several years, as best as I can recall. Basics include a water related disaster while I’m in a huge building. The building’s purpose is never fully clear, but it reminds me of modern office buildings.
Toward the dream’s end, I look out a window. The building is on a shoreline but raised above the beach. From my vantage, I can look down and across. I see deep blue water lapping at the upper level of rocky breakers. It’s clear that water broke over those breakers but has receded some. “Oh my god,” I said, “I didn’t realize the water got that high.”
The person I’m speaking with agrees, and tells me it was much higher. The building had been evacuated. Almost everyone was gone. I decide the time is right for me to get out. But I know where my car was parked. I know that area was flooded.
Then I think, wait, I had another car parked on another level. Do I have the key? Yes, I do. Good. Just need to reach it.
I go to use some stairs to go down. They’ve been severely damaged. Pipes and wires are exposed, blocking part of the way, and some of the wall has been knocked over. I attempt to go down one side but the way is blocked. Seeing another way, I precariously cross from one side to the other as others watch and anxiously call, “Careful.” But I make it without issue.
Going down, which in real life seems wrong but made perfect sense in dreamland, I reach my old car. It gets muddled here; the old car is sometimes an old green Mercury Comet sedan I drove as a teenager but it’s a silver Nissan 200 I once owned at other times. While I’m confused while remembering it, it seemed straightforward in my dream.
I start toward the car when three women interrupt me. All are dressed in the Air Force ‘office’ uniform that we used to wear, a light blue shirt with insignia, ribbons and awards, and name plate, along with black shoes and dark blue pants. Their uniforms are immaculate. One is a stranger, one is my sister, and the third is an actress. But they’re just friendly strangers in the dream. The one who is my sister says, “Can you answer a question for us? We’re trying to figure out if running the radio slows down a Formula 1 car.”
The actress says, “I think it would slow down a NASCAR racer but they’re still pretty fast. They can go three hundred miles an hour.”
Several responses bounce around my head. Like, Formula 1 cars don’t have radios in the way she’s talking about, which becomes clear as she explains that she thinks drivers probably enjoy listening to music. I tell them that race cars don’t have radios that play music and that it would slow them down anyway. They thank me and start talking to one another. I go on.
As I approach the car, two cats appear. They are Jade and Roary, two cats who once lived with us but at different times. They’re well, healthy, with their tails up. Neither make a noise but are waiting for me to get into the car. I open the door. They stand aside as I get in and start it without problem. Looking across the parking lot, I see another car I used to own, a blue Mazda RX-7, and think, wait until I tell my wife about that. Then I tell the cats, “Come on, get in.” They hop into the car, and I put it into gear. Dream end.
Not my RX-7 but one just like it, one of three I owned at different times.
Thinking about it, though, I was dismayed. I thought several negative aspects were being presented to me. But a voice in my head said, “Let’s talk about this dream.” Summarizing, the voice tells me, you have at least two more lives left, represented in the two cats. Also, you’re not as close to death as you sometimes think. Your old car represents you. Your car was unexpectedly remembered, found, and then started without problem. You’re being helped by female energy from three different but related sources. The water was high but it’s receding, and things will get better.
Another rock and roll October fall day has pitched itself over Ashlandia. 39 F now, we’re expected to get over the 60 F hump and cruise to 67 F before falling back down to 40. The pattern is obvious by now, Wenzdaz, October 15, 2025. The nights are taking control, lengthening, growing colder. We know that means, winter is comin’.
No change in news from Dad’s locations. On Mom’s side, sis took Mom to see Frank. Wasn’t a good visit, as he was out of it. Mom told sis, she doesn’t think she can see him like that again. Frank is on 10 L/minute of O2 now but was on 15 as of yesterday morning. He can’t be moved from ICU until he is on 5.
After the visit, sis took Mom to get a flu shot and COVID booster, then went back that evening and made her dinner and visited with her. Another sister had a visit to Mom planned for Monday. No updates from that.
The Epstein Shutdown of 2025 continues. It’ been two weeks.
As part of the shutdown, the Trump regime employed reverse-day logic to RIF gov. employees. CNN published a story that finely chopped up the Trump-Vance-Johnson GOP tale that, “Gosh, the Democrats made us let go of people because the government is shut down.”
Vice President JD Vance said Sunday that layoffs during the government shutdown are needed to continue critical federal assistance programs, including the WIC nutrition assistance program, and to pay the military.
“We have to lay off some federal workers in the midst of this shutdown to preserve the essential benefits for the American people that the government does provide,” he said on NBC’s “Meet the Press,” blaming Democrats for the reductions.
However, budget experts pointed to several reasons why Vance’s statement wasn’t true. Among them, many federal workers aren’t being paid during the shutdown, so laying them off wouldn’t free up any funds — plus, if they were being paid, the money wouldn’t be available for 60 days, when most must actually leave their jobs, said Bobby Kogan, senior director of federal budget policy at the left-leaning Center for American Progress and a former OMB official during the Biden administration. Also, the Trump administration last week said it will extend WIC’s funding using tariff revenue.
What’s more, any funds saved by laying off several thousand federal employees would be only a tiny fraction of what’s needed to fund WIC and the military, said Michael Linden, a former senior OMB official during the Biden administration who is now a senior policy fellow at the left-leaning Washington Center for Equitable Growth.
Yes, that’s right, it’s another Trump Regime lie exposed. Should be news — well, it was, I guess, because it was covered by CNN — but the Trump Regime lies every day, almost every hour. Those of a MAGA heart pay no heed until Trump’s actions hit them hard enough on the head to shake their beliefs. The Trump WH is a swampland of lies and corruption. It’ll take some serious work to drain that swamp and rebuild it into a functioning democractic government and kick down the disastrous framework that is Project 2025. Meanwhile, farmers are going belly up from the lack of infrastructure to support them. Prices are rising. Employment is falling. Shortages are appearing, and foreclosures are climbing. The Trump Destruction Machine is tearing the nation down.
Riddle: how many Trump Regime officials does it take to tell the truth? No one can guess because it’s never happened.
Today’s song is “Skateaway” by Dire Straits. In my head, this is called “Rollergirl”. Yes, this was obliquely related to a dream sequence of moi. Had sufficient substance found in it that The Neurons made the call to feature it in the morning mental music stream.
Here’s a lyrics sampling that prompts my head to call the song “Rollergirl”.
She gets rock and roll and a rock and roll station And a rock and roll dream She’s making movies on location She don’t know what it means And the music make her wanna be the story And the story was whatever was the song, what it was Rollergirl, don’t worry D.J. play the movies all night long, all night long
Coffee is being re-homed into my body as I type. Time to rock another day before it rocks me. Hope peace and grace comes out of the shadows to warm and shelter us all. Till then, here we go, one more time around the sun. Cheers
Another No Kings series of rallys and protests are planned for October 18, 2025. Almost 2,500 such gatherings are planned.
They’re not being organized by antifa. They are antifa in nature because the Trump Regime is Profa. If you can, participate. Here are some news pieces from different cities and areas with more information.
There are many news stories out there to concern and anger me about the Trump Destruction Machine. One points to how the Trump Regime repeats failed ideas while expecting different outcomes. Racism and sexism comes to mind, as does reckless huge tariffs, and giving tax breaks to the wealthy. None have panned out, except for very short terms. They are not sustainable.
Another of these is the Trump Death Machine’s attack on Venezuela boats, killing people without war being declared, without due process, without evidence. Trump is following a dangerous and problematic policy that has historic precedence. Policies like his led to terrorist attacks on the United States that culminated in the disaster immortalized under another Republican POTUS, 9/11. Sooner or later, some relatives or political leaders will say, “Fuck him,” and counterattack. I don’t need to engage much imagination to conceive of multiple deadly ways in which the United States can be struck. This is simply a losing course. Trump is too ignorant, shallow, and arrogant to understand.
The same can be said for Trump’s tariffs. It’s hilarious to read his reaction to China’s moves when they mirror what Trump has done and continues to do. It’s like Trump had no idea that other nations would not just bend the knee to him and do as he says — and not as he does. Paul Krugman has more lovely details about it. As Krugman points out, ‘”Gosh. Aggressive unilateral trade action is a “moral disgrace.” Who knew?’
Courts and judges are pushing back against Trump’s one-story vision of ‘blue’ cities teetering with destruction and violence. Trump claims they’re on fire, burning down, etc. The evidence isn’t there, but that doesn’t stop him. Just as with Trump’s hugely fake ‘the 2020 election was stolen’ campaign, where courts consistently ruled against him and his surrogates because the evidence for his claims were not there, the same result is happening as people take Trump to court for sending the military into Portland, Chicago, etc. The evidence is not there, and the courts are telling him so. The danger here is that the Roberts Court will take it up, shrug, and overturn these rulings without explaining why. We know why, of course; the Roberts Court is deeply implicit in trying to establish Trump as the first Dictator of the United States.
Turns out that MAGA and I have something in common. When Pete Hegseth, Trump’s proxy in the War Department, announced that Qatar would build a military base on U.S. soil, I reacted with a furious, “WTAF?” Apparently, MAGA reacted in the same way. Didn’t know that at the time, but I saw the spin a few hours later as the Trump Regime pretended, “No, that was fake news, Qatar is not building a U.S. military base. They’ll be hosted on a U.S. base, just as we do with other allies.”
Finally, just as seen and predicted, with school back in and the Trump Regime virulently rising up against vaccinations, cases of measles are rising again.
Papi’s scowl said it all. The orange boi was not happy with the weather’s latest ideas. Rain, no sunshine, chilly air? That is not orange boi weather! How dare they change the weather. He looked at me to change it back. “Sorry, dude, I wish I had that power.” Although, after I said that, I’m glad I don’t. Think of the pressure that would put you under, having the ability to change weather.
Unmollified, Papi went out and sat and sulked in protest to what I was doing to him, relenting to come in after a few minutes of protesting gave me some something to think about.
This is Twozda, October 14, 2025. 45 F now under clouds that are effective sun blocks, 66 F is the dreamed of high temp for today. Don’t know if that’s possible with that quilted sky cover. Sort of a bland gray-burnt-marshmallow tone. Not pretty. Bland, toneless. I’m surprised that car manufacturers don’t jump on it. “Ugly sky”. They seem to want to offer colors which are different these days. I find many of the new colors strange. Uninviting.
Today’s song is “Burning Heart” by Survivor. I honestly lack insights into why this song this day. The Neurons started it in the morning mental music stream as I hunted down breakfast. I tried backtracking along my thinking and peered back into the dim remnants of dreams and conversations for clues but nada answered.
Coffee is percolating through my body’s systems. Time to move ass cheeks. Hope grace and peace find us. It’s my eternal hope. For today, at least. Cheers
My wife and I climbed into the car. I started the engine. After over revving it, I began driving in reverse. My wife asked, “Why are we in reverse?”
“Everyone says that you get better mileage in reverse.” I swung the transmission into drive. “Now I think I’ll go this way.” I turned on the windshield wipers.
My wife peered into the sunlit blue sky. “Why are the windshield wipers on?”
“We need gas,” I declared. “We don’t have enough money for a full tank.”
“I’m starving,” my wife replied. “I thought we were going out for dinner. Where can we get something to eat?”
“We don’t have money for food. Just hold on.” I pulled into a miniature golf course. “I think I’ll play a game.”
My wife objected, “I didn’t think we have the money.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get more money.”
I went in and paid for the game. Before teeing off, I went back to the car. Jumping in, we drove off.
My wife looked around in puzzlement. “Where are we going?”
“Straight ahead.”
“This is the opposite direction of where we were going.”
“Don’t worry, I’m taking a short cut.”
“What happened to your miniature golf game?”
“I played it. Set a new record. I was stripes.”
“But you weren’t gone five minutes.”
“I know. It was the fastest golf game ever. I scored more points than anyone in the game’s history.” I steered the car into the path of oncoming traffic. “They were amazed. Said they’d never seen anyone play like that. They’re giving me a special golfing medal.”
A truck almost hit us. My wife screamed. “Get on the right side of the road. What is wrong with you?”
“Don’t worry,” I replied, “they’ll get out of our way.”
The car’s engine coughed and sputtered.
“What’s wrong with the car?” my wife asked.
“I think it’s the wind,” I answered, throwing open the door.
My wife gasped. “What are you doing? The car’s still moving. You’re going to get yourself killed.” Leaning across, she grabbed the wheel and began steering.
After turning on the radio, I leaped out of the car and rolled across a lane. A car screeched to a halt, almost hitting me. Leaving their car and coming toward me, the driver said, “Oh my God, I almost hit you. What’s going on? Are you alright?”
Beaming, I took off my shirt. “Aren’t I ripped?” I nodded toward my car as my wife managed to steer and stop it. “It’s my wife. She made me do it. She’s crazy. Doesn’t know a thing about flying. She shouldn’t be allowed near a boat.”
Stepping in front of a car, I waved my arms. “Help, help. Call the police. This guy’s trying to kill me.”
Munda, October 13, 2025. Rain cascading onto the roof and hammered me awake.40 F outside with a high of 52 on order. I asked Alexa about the weather. She said it was cloudy. I asked her if it was going to rain. “It might rain starting at 9 AM but it should stop by 10 AM.” This was at 7:30 as the rain drove down.
Mom’s boyfriend, Frank, is in the ICU for afib. He’s 95 and suffering from multiple issues stemming from a fall down the stairs last week, but has cancer that predates his fall. Mom told my sister that she wanted to get Frank’s phone to see if he’d been talking with Joan. Joan was Frank’s best friend’s wife. When he saw Joan after his best friend died, Frank kissed Joan. Mom was furious and has claimed ever since that Frank is secretly meeting with Joan. Mom told sis, “If I find out that he’s been talking to her, then I’ll throw him out.” She then kept calling Frank’s daughter to see if she had Frank’s phone. Sis reminded Mom that Frank was in the ICU and may not live. “I know,” Mom answered. We’re not sure that she does.
Sister’s text exchange relating got The Neurons to play the Gin Blossoms with “Follow You Down” in the morning mental music stream. Don’t ask me what they’re thinking.
My wife has no energy today and seems down but it’s our day to do food deliveries, so here we go. May grace and peace find and keep us. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 