What an absolutely brainless sack of meat Tommy Tuberville reveals to be again anagain anagain. That doesn’t paint his constituents as a very bright crowd, either.
The Godzilla Dream
I was with several other people cowering in a building’s wreckage. Trying to rest.
The building was in a disaster area. It’d been storming. A dark day was ending. Night was arriving. The storm was beginning another act. It wasn’t the storm which caused the wreckage.
Talking to one another, we knew it was time. The creature was regular and consistent. It would be returning. The creature caused all the destruction.
We also knew that it knew about three of us. We’d been fighting the creature, as others had done. One by one, the creature had found and killed the others. Through conversation, we agreed, the thing knew where it was. We discussed who would fight it next. A young woman said that it would be her.
Noises told of the thing’s approach. Peering out through broken walls, we looked for the thing. Dusk was giving up its last hold. In it, we saw the unmistakeable profile of the towering fictional lizard monster, Godzilla.
Godzilla came right for us in our building. Scrambling for cover, we went in three different directions as the building was ripped apart. Cement walls flew past my head. Ducking into a dark safe room, I caught my breath and got ready to go fight.
Jumping up, I ran back out to confront Godzilla. The mechanism of how any of us were expected to defeat the creature was unclear but I was sure that I could do it.
Breaking out onto an office building’s flat rooftop, I spied the young woman raising across rooftops, jumping from building to building. Tearing buildings down, Godzilla thundered after her.
Then his tail swept around and took out the building I was in.
I saw it coming but didn’t react in time. As the building went over with cascading thunderous crashes, I drew my body into a ball and fell through the building and into a street.
I wasn’t hurt.
Godzilla was visible over a mile away. The sky was growing lighter, like dawn was coming. Then Godzilla disappeared.
I watched for him to reappear. Word arrived: Godzilla was dead. Gone. The young woman had defeated him but died in the process.
I was amazed and overjoyed. With the sun rising, we could see the city flattened in every direction. People were crawling out of the wreckage.
Gazing across the wreckage toward blue sky, I saw another creature emerging. I knew I’d need to fight it, too. As I prepared to go, I wondered if there would ever be an end to monsters.
Dream end.
Note: I’m aware that I referred to PINO Trump as Trumpzilla recently. My mind apparently worked that into a dream for me. I’ll let you decide what it all means.
Hear, Hear!
Ron Howard nailed it. Let me hear an amen if you agree.
Wenzda’s Theme Music
Ah, sunshine. Yesterday had the sunshine working around us in a revolving door. The changes were stark. One minute, sunshine is blazing in the windows and we’re raising the blinds to cut it. Literally the next minute found my wife asking, “What happened to the sun? It’s dark in here. Turn on the light.”
She looked out. “It’s pouring outside.”
Sitting with her book with the light on, we’re suddenly engulfed by bright light again. We both rise to look out the window. I shield my eyes. “It’s sunny again.” I lower a blind. “How long will this last?”
About three minutes, as it turned out.
That’s spring in Ashland. Probably similar in many other locales.
Today is Wenzda, April 2, 2025. It’s 38 F and sunshine is splashing off the solidly wet world. The cat feels things have regressed. Instead of trying to leave again, he’s positioned himself for a groom and nap. “Can’t trust that weather out there, can you?” I ask him.
He pauses in a mid-leg lick to swivel his ears and give me a gaze. His expression is like he’s trying to conjure the right words. “Cat got your tongue?” I ask.
That drives him back to washing.
My wife and I applauded the Wisconsin Supreme Court results last night. We also applauded Senator Booker’s record-setting filibuster. We want stronger action and are dubious about the senator’s effort and its impact. It probably flew past most people’s attention, we feel. But it may buoy a few people. Every little bit might help trigger a bigger movement and greater awareness.
Stevie Wonder is playing in the morning mental music stream. Wonder’s cover of “Yester-Me, Yester-You, Yesterday” came out in 1969. It’s catalogued in the childhood section of my mind. I don’t think I’ve heard it in a while. Even with a few swallows of coffee to encourage them, The Neurons aren’t elaborating about their choice. From the one dream remembered from last night, I don’t think it’s from that. Other Neurons suggest that it could just be association from thinking about the weather yesterday. Could be, I agree. Could also be a function of news and politics. The song does address what happened to all we had yesterday and how it’s change.
What happened to the world we knew?
When we would dream and scheme
And while the time away?
Yester-me, yester-you, yesterday
Mm, yeah
[Verse 2]
Where did it go (Where did it go?), that yester-glow?
When we could feel
The wheel of life turn our way
Yester-me. yester-you, yesterday
[Bridge]
I had a dream. so did you
Life was warm and love was true
Two kids who followed all the rules
Yester-fools, and now
h/t to Genius.com
The coffee seems to be working. Heading off to get things done. Hope your day gives you a chance to feel happy, satisfied, and eager to do more. Cheers
Twosda’s Wandering Political Thoughts
Bit of good news on Oregon’s political front. The Trump et al hates the mail-in ballots. Although he has used them to vote, he claims that he doesn’t trust them. Thinks they’re vulnerable to cheating. Facts show it’s otherwise, that Oregon’s voting by mail system works well. Facts, along with loyalty, empathy, history, and intelligence, have never mattered to PINO Trump, so he HATES Oregon’s voting system. (Trump also hates mail-in voting because mail-in voters tend to vote Democrat. That makes Donald sad because he’s all GOTP.)
Well, that Trump hatred drove loyal trumpdog and Oregon Sen. David Brock Smith to introduce SB 210 2025 to change Oregon’s system. Smith wanted to force us to vote only on election day, only in person.
I am proud to say that Oregon voters responded. We sent in so many comments against changing our voting system, we swamped the legislature’s website, brothers and sisters and everyone else, and the matter is being dropped.
Well done. Very well done.
Twosda’s Wandering Thoughts
We passed the Ford dealership today on the way home from shopping. The selection of new and used cars was impressive. We’d been talking off and on about buying another car before the TTs (Trump Tariff) blow the market up. Three friends had all purchased new cars. All are EVs. We were feeling a little EV envy. Guess I could write that as EnVy but would anyone but me understand?
“Art and Marsha bought a Kia,” my wife said. “Mary and Bruce bought a Hyndai. Priscilla and Alan also bought a Hyundai. Nancy has ordered a new Japanese car that’s being made to order.”
Those were things I already knew. I suspected my wife was reminding herself. I was drifting toward a pretty, new Mustang Mach e. I probably wouldn’t buy one. Car & Driver ranks it as 4th in the compact EV SUV category. Two Kias and a Hyundai rank above it. But those are what my friends are driving. I don’t want to drive the same car as them. I also know that C&D thinks highly of the new Mazda CX 90 Hybrid. I like Mazdas but the 90 is a big beast. Way more SUV than we need.
Then I spotted it. Midnight Silver Metallic. A 2024 Tesla Model S.
I checked out the sticker. 11,000 miles. 52,000 dollars. Loaded. Still under warranty.
“That’s a great price,” I told my wife. “But it’s a Tesla. And…you know.”
She nodded. “Yes. But.” She looked at me. “Let’s do it.”
So guess what we did?
We laughed our asses off. Ha, ha. April Fools! There’s no way we’d buy one of those overpriced ego machines. Car & Driver ranks the Tesla 13th in that category, which is the luxury EV scene. All sorts of better machines available that we’d buy before a Tesla. But before buying in that category, I’d shop more practical categories first.
Rain began falling anew. We trotted to our ten-year-old CX 5. I patted it on the steering wheel. “Who needs a new car when we have you?” Although, as we pulled out, I spotted a pretty little Tesla Cybertruck.
Oh, please. Would anyone ever call a Cybertruck little and pretty?
Twosda’s Theme Music
Not a good night of sleep to end March of 2025 for me. Twosda, April 1, 2025, has begun with overnight lows in the bottom of the 30s F. 38 F now. Highs will hit the 40s. Squirmy grey clouds shoulder down onto the mountains and separate into misty tendrils. Rain falls. Blue sky is off limits. A skittish sun reassures us it’s daytime.
Papi disliked the rain. He was in and out a billion and seven times between 6 and 8 AM. Fed up by the stale routine, I lectured him. “You’re the cat who cried in and out too many times. If you go out this time, you’re staying out there.” He was mute in response but went out. Thereafte, he beat to come in every ten minutes. I finally let him in after an hour. He reproached me with a look. Nothing has been learned here.
Dreams then contributed to my sluggish state. I had a dream in three parts. The cat kept disrupting it but I kept returning to it. Now I’m on my cup of coffee, looking to it to prompt more blood flow through me.
“We could get a tushy,” my wife says. “It’s very popular.”
She’s referring to a bidet seat. She’s been off and on about this for six months. First on. She wanted one with warm water. Than off because we don’t have an electric outlet by the toilet. I suggested having one installed. She thought about that for a few weeks and then turned that down.
“Do you want a cold water one then?” I asked. That was the natural follow up.
“Let me think about it.”
So she’s back on it today. “We need to measure the toilet,” I tell her. “To ensure it fits.”
“It fits ninety percent of all toilets,” she says.
I’ve heard that before. “We need to measure and confirm it fits our toilet seat’s shape and size. What’s a skirted toilet?” I will do these things later, I tell myself. I don’t want to disturb my morning routine. It already feels wrecked.
Part of my wrecked sensation came from a foot episode. The one which has recovered from surgery. When I arose to partake of Papi’s ingress/egress routine, the foot was painful and stiff. I’d not had any issues with it. So I responded to self, “WTF?” Thoughts of what I did with the foot the previous day were pursued. Nothing meaningful was found. It feels fine now. I register it in my permanent record as another life mystery.
Tame Impala is performing “Let It Happen” in the morning mental music stream. Maybe it’s associated with the dreams. Could also be from thinking about ordering and installing the bidet seat or from pondering the crumbling United States and the GOTP and MAGA response is to it. Although The Neurons have been with me for a few years, I’m still trying to understand how they work.
“Let It Happen” came out in 2015. I didn’t remember that. Looked it up on the net. Wiki thingy’s summary says, “Let It Happen” is about “finding yourself always in this world of chaos and all this stuff going on around you and always shutting it out because you don’t want to be part of it. But at some point, you realize it takes more energy to shut it out than it does to let it happen and be a part of ‘it’.” That’s according to Kevin Parker. Parker is the Australian who wrote the song and performs it.
I think I’m seeing some glimmering of why The Neurons have it racing around my morning mental music stream.
Coffee is not helping much this morning. My bed is singing me a lullaby. But it’s April 1. No foolin’. We’re washing the bed linens. And I want to get on to things. Writing, um, showering and dressing. I also have a bidet to order.
Hope your day is going better. Cheers
Notice
Borrowed from John Eller on social media.
Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts
Yes, here we go again.
Anyone remember President George Dubya Bush’s war on Iraq?
He wanted to attack it and was looking for a reason. Polls show the public divided about it. Administration officials like Colin Powell said that Iraq wasn’t a threat.
Then we had 9/11.
The Bush Administration was quick to try to connect 9/11 and Iraq, and then began painting pictures of fictional ‘weapons of mass destruction’. They worked hard to sell the need to invade Iraq because of the imminent threat Saddam Hussein posed. Intelligence was cherry picked. The press got involved. Stories were planted by journalists favorable to the administration. Then the administration would quote those newspapers and stories to convince people that even the ‘liberal mainstream press agreed’ that war was needed.
Any of this sound in any way familiar? It should. It was a marketing campaign. The Trusk Regime is doing something similar. Floating the idea. See what sticks. Repeating it, repeating it, repeating it so people become familiar to it. As using military force gains traction as an idea to ‘keep America safe’, the logic behind it becomes twisted. Intel will get cherry picked or made up completely. People not really paying attention to WTF is going on will begin agreeing, “Yes, we need to do this. We need to use military force against this growing threat.”
Use your search engines and the net’s ability to store and recall information to check the polls and reporting of the period before the invasion of Iraq. The pattern was clear then; it’s clear now. Part of the sell back then was how easy such a military adventure would be for a power like the United States. Remember them telling us how short the war would be? How they mocked people who pointed out there wasn’t an exit strategy? Recall, they told us the war would pay for itself.
Trump wants to attack places. Maybe Greenland. Maybe Canada. Perhaps somewhere else. Putting the nation on a war footing will improve his popularity and strengthen his hold. Because if we’re ‘at war’, then criticizing or challenging him can be called out as detrimental to the war effort. Look back at how popular Dubya became for a while. And that was done without AI and bots. Ponder how effectively bots and AI can be used to sell a war on social media these days. Think of DOGE and Elon Reeve Musk’s potential role.
Yemen was a trial balloon to let his military advisors and senior officials a taste of it. More will come.
Tick, tick, tick.
Michael Seidel, writer 