Frida’s Wandering Political Thoughts
As I survey life in the United States from my home in 2025, it feels to me like we’ve gone from Nanny State to Bully State. Trump demonstrates his bully tendencies with everything that he does.
Along the way to becoming a bully nation, the Trump Regime is energetically dumping facts. Trump’s own regime’s Intel said Iran wasn’t near completing a nuclear weapon. Trump claimed that he knew better without offering any facts.
After the bombing, Trump said that the mission resulted in Iran’s nuclear capabilities being “obliterated.” The Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) assessment said that Iran’s program was probably only set back a few months. Trump insists, without evidence, we must believe him.
On June 20, a reporter asked Trump: “What intelligence do you have that Iran is building a nuclear weapon? Your Intelligence Community has said they have no evidence that they are at this point.” Trump responded, “Well then my Intelligence Community is wrong,” and he said that Gabbard was “wrong.”
You can see why doubt is blooming like flowers in the spring. The Trump Regime’s response to everything among its directors, press secretaries, and cabinet members is, hey, trust us. They really dislike questions and react with violent anger when questioned, especially when facts get involved. Yet, we have several parts of the government saying one thing while TACO insists its otherwise. We have metrics saying one thing while TACO and his trumpizens insist their alternative set of facts say differently.
Polls are showing, for now, that more U.S. citizens believe the United States is on the wrong track. We see more of the same in the latest consumer confidence index.
WASHINGTON (AP) — Americans’ view of the U.S. economy worsened in June, resuming a downward slide that had dragged consumer confidence to its lowest level since the COVID-19 pandemic five years ago.
The Conference Board said Tuesday that its consumer confidence index slid to 93 in June, down 5.4 points from 98.4 last month, which represented a brief uptick.
Of course, as a group, the U.S. electorate is a jelly-filled crumbly invertebrate. Many critics will say of this group and my gross generalization, there are so many issues, the issues fracture us. Yes, and that’s normal in any democracy. But shouldn’t history, truth, and facts mean more? As we’re frequently finding, truth and facts only matter to same when they slap people in the face like a used diaper via personal experience.
We see this especially demonstrated in the Immigration issue, as orchestrated by Killer Noem and her banditos. After teaching people to question authorities and question mask-wearing gunmen, we’re now supposed to just accept that it’s okay for ICE to disappear people? We used to fill milk cartons with people who went missing. Now, like a lying president and mass shootings, disappeared people is becoming a new American norm. Doesn’t matter if the disappeared are criminals; doesn’t matter if due process is followed. Who needs law and order in this growing lawless nation?
Remember when we used to say, “Innocent until proven guilty”?
Do you recall the days when “Everyone has their day in court”?
What about that old idea that, “If you’re not doing anything illegal, you don’t have anything to fear”?
Hey, that shit is gone. This is what happens when history, facts, and truth no longer matter. Little by little, day by day, decision by decision, act by act, truth, justice, and due process matter less and less.
And then a point is reached when nothing matters except the bully in charge.
Frida’s Theme Music
Ashlandia remains in a stable weather pattern for today, June 27, 2025, Frida in our reality. Like yesterday, our highs will encroach on the mid 80s while we enjoy 62 F at the mo.
Ashlandia’s current problem are aggressive deer. This has been an off and on thing and doesn’t usually get as much press as other animals, like cougars and bears. The cougars haven’t been in the news much. The bears have just bee Yogi-ing trash cans. The deer, with new fawns being born, have declared war on dogs and people coming too close. Some of them are bold and forthright, imitating Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, insisting, “You shall not pass.” The dog-walking people, dog leashed, respond to the deer, “But I live there.” It’s a challenge. A city committee studied the issue in 2008 but no effective solutions were found. With four aggressive does finding the NextDoor spotlight in different city areas, it’s recycled into our awareness. That cycle itself is a product of drought; the deer were out of the area when we were parched and conserving water for more than a decade. Now that we’re water rich with thick greenery, the deer are enticed back into the area. Humans (with leashed dogs) and deer are getting acquainted anew.
A pause for silent reflection for Bill Moyer, journalist, press secretary, writer, 1934-2025. Watching him and reading his commentary and essays informed me and shaped my thinking.
Thinking that I wanted to break my current dark cycle, I asked The Neurons to please come up with some chill music for the morning mental music stream. They delivered Carlos Santana with Michelle Branch from 2002 and the “Game of Love”. Wikipedia provided some background to the song that I didn’t know.
The song had originally been recorded with New Radicals frontman Gregg Alexander, but album producer Clive Davis felt a female voice would maximize the song’s appeal and a recording of Santana performing “The Game of Love” with Tina Turner as vocalist was completed. When Turner declined to participate in making a video for the track, Davis recruited Macy Gray to record a replacement vocal. When Davis was not satisfied with that version, Michelle Branch was asked to record the song,[2][better source needed] with Branch’s rhythm guitar playing also added to the track. Branch said, “It was the first time for me to sing somebody else’s song. Usually I’m like: ‘Oh I want it this way’ and I’m in charge…I didn’t meet [Carlos Santana at the recording session], I didn’t know what was going on…It felt to me like wow it seems like there’s so much at stake, I’m going to go in there and just sing my heart out and just cross my fingers.”[3]
Coffee is arriving at my major internal waypoints. Time to rock up again. Hope you have a great one. Cheers
Thirstda’s Theme Music
My phone was ringing and dinging with a plethora of text messages. I clicked on the app to see WTF was going on. My phone tried calling people. Sighing, I rolled out of bed. 6:48.
Sunshine was again championing the blue summer sky. 58 F now, it’d be 84 F later. A thin line of nascent white clouds trouble the sky blue from being as rich and pure as possible. I tried again to check messages but they wouldn’t come up on an app. My sister, though, corresponds with me on a separate app. Her summaries detailed an overnight firefight in The Mom Saga between Mom, her boyfriend, his family, and my family.
I exercised to engage my muscles and get blood moving in the right direction and consulted my Fitbit for the results. Fitbit hadn’t registered anything. Some scrolling revealed that my Fitbit was fritzing. WTF.
Thirstda, June 26, 2025, was not off to an inspiring launch. Maybe coffee and perusing the news would help. Meanwhile, I would reboot my Fitbit and phone. I mean by that, turn them on and off. That’s often modern technology’s rudimentary fixes: turn it off and back on. It failed this time, leaving me with some WTF mumbling to my caffeinating self. Almost in parallel, I went to the net via computer to search for help. Blank pages came up. Really, WTAF?
Finagling of computer settings were engaged. Results showed. Turning off the Fitbit and turning it on again a few times, I drank coffee and considered the failed results. With coffee in, brain neurons engaged in what was going on.
Hey, they said, did you notice that the time is going backwards on the Fitbit?
Whaaat? I answered. Yes. Each time I turned the FB off and on, the time it showed went further back.
The Neurons said, This has happened before.
I’d tried snyncing the Fitbit with the app. That failed. The app kept telling me that an update was available. But It also told me that the update was already installed.
Well, hold on, partner, The Neurons said. The app is probably hung.
Of course.
Bringing the app up, I worked a hard shutdown on the phone. Yep, that fixed all Fitbit problems.
Thank god for coffee.
Tethered to my computer and technological issues, The Neurons are huddling with songs about freedom. The morning’s hours have sprinted away. Solomon Burke ends up singing “None of Us Are Free” in the morning mental music stream. A line resonates with me: “If you don’t say its wrong, then you say it’s right.” Yep. That’s how I view those Trump voters who say, “I didn’t vote this. I don’t support it.” You spoke with your actions. “The truth is shining bright right before our eyes.”
On into the day I go. Hope you have a better one. Cheers
Thirstda’s Wandering Thoughts
TL/DR: AI is fucking up. And that’s fucking us up.
One of my childhood passions were cars. From that grew an intense interest in auto racing. It wasn’t something that I shed as an adult. Passions aren’t easily surrendered. Yeah, as an adult, auto racing, with its environmental impacts, ridiculously increasing costs, and inherent dangers, lacked substantial commonalities with the human condition and the challenges Earth and humanity face. I excused myself for decades with the subterfuge that we don’t want a vanilla existence. Year after year I followed sports car and Formula 1 racing. For a while, I also hunted NASCAR, IMSA, and IndyCar news. But sports car and Formula 1 was it for me. As I aged, the passion became muted and dulled. Part of that was that the sport just wasn’t as competitive. Aspects of its relevance to real existence also troubled me, though, and that grew.
One of the Internet’s commercial strengths is that it notices what you look at, and then baits you with more of the same. The net noticed I checked out LeMans this year. It came up with reminders about Ford’s victories at LeMans in the 1960s via the Ford GT. That effort was highlighted not long ago in a movie called Ford v Ferrari.
A story about Ford’s 1967 LeMans victory grabbed my eye. Driving a red Ford GT Mark IV, American drivers Dan Gurney and A.J. Foyt took LeMans in record form. I built a model of the car within a year. It sat on my dresser among my other models until I moved out of Mom’s house four years later. Eagerly, I read the story. Then I wondered: how many drivers have won both the 24 Hours of LeMans and the Indy 500?
I put it to AI; how many drivers have won both the 24 Hours of LeMans and the Indy 500?
AI responded, slightly paraphrasing, Lewis Hamilton won it in 2011 and Max Verstappen has won it four times recently.
WTF?
I know that Lewis Hamilton has never raced at Indy or LeMans. Nor has Max V. Both are Formula 1 champions.
The entire AI answer was fantastically fucking wrong. Now, if I didn’t know the sport, I may have been fooled by the answer. Which pushes the wonderment in me, how many people consult the Internet for truthful and factual information and are being fed wrong answers? How many lack the resources or awareness to challenge the veracity of what they’re being fed?
For shits and grins, I asked AI again. This time, one source said, “…while only Foyt has won both the 24 Hours of Le Mans and the Indianapolis 500.” Another told me, “Only one driver has won both the Indianapolis 500 and the 24 Hours of Le Mans: Graham Hill.”
So, both answers are wrong, because I knew before asking that Foyt and Hill were the only drivers who accomplished this.
Wrong info on the net is not new. We’ve joked for years, “It was on the Internet so it must be true, ha, ha.”
But the shit is getting deep. The way that wrong information is advancing and spreading with AI’s gentle assistance, the joke is now on us.
Wenzda’s Theme Music
Daylight come and it’s time to get up. That was not always the case. A shift worker for over a dozen years, I was often driving home as the sun bite into the sky.
Not so today, Wenzda, June 25, 2025. Let’s run the Ashlandia summer day checklist: cool night; check. Blue sky; check. Bright sun; check. Temperature in the low 80s; well, that’s not usual. We generally reside in the 90s at this point but I enjoy the 80s more, when we’re talking temperatures in Fahrenheit. Today, the sun will rouse us from the 60 F where we now chill to the low to mid 80s.
The neighborhood is lazy with low passing vehicle noises and a number continuing a porch project. No trains or aircraft are heard today, and the birds are circumspect in their discussions. I’ve not read much news yet this AM and continue to dwell in a ‘wait-and-see’ spirit. That spirit has songs ’bout trouble circulating in the morning mental music stream. Coming into six months of TACO’s second presidency, many balls are in the air. We’re witnessing the GOTP sabotaging justice and the legal system, the education and healthcare systems, environment and the economy, doing so under the guise of progress while ignoring fact-loaded decades. Meanwhile, PINO TACO saber rattles like he’s an old battle hand and not the coddled man-child born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
The Neurons cultivated a broad selection of trouble songs for the old stream. From it, Buddy Guy’s take on trouble, “I Smell Trouble”, has assumed dominance.
Into the day we go. What happens next, nobody knows. Hope yours goes well. Cheers
Twosda’s Theme Music
Greetings from Ashlandia, where it is Twosda, June 24, 2025. I don’t know what it is in your part of the world. For that matter, maybe this is just my reality.
It’s bumping up against 60 F outside under a fine blue sky and an earnest sun. Today’s upper crust will top off in the upper 80s. Maybe we’ll see 90. Good summer weather in my mind, in my reality.
I don’t know about other parts of the world and reality, but my breath is being held in my reality. Trump was crowing about an Iran-Israel cease fire after the B2 bombing run. Everyone else was mum. Then Iran said, yes, there is a cease fire, after some further attacks. Now a tenuous cease-fire is in place. Will this be a Russia cease-fire, where it holds until one of them believes they have some military advantage and break it to attack? Time will tell.
Outside of war, we await the impact of the tariffs and trade wars as the northern hemisphere slides into summer. Rural communities are holding their breath to see what happens with Federal funding cuts to their hospitals and school systems. People who are aware of the One Big Beautiful Bill are waiting for news about cuts to Medicaid. Immigrants in all situations and of all colors except white are keeping their ears open for masked ICE raids. Farmers are studying their situations, watching the weather, and holding their breath as they see grants dry up and workers disappear. Then, we face heat waves in the U.S. and hurricane season. All wait to see how the decimated Trump FEMA responds when a major disaster takes out an area. Maybe, given Trump’s luck, such a storm won’t strike. Meanwhile, we hold our breath.
We also hold our breath against the idea that Trump will decide that using the military was fun and profitable, and will order attacks against others. Will the newly identified enemies be U.S. citizens exercising their First Amendment rights?
TACO loves issuing threats. His storm troops have been more arrogant about arresting Democrats who oppose him. That’s a nasty trend and has us all holding our breath.
Issues before the Roberts Court have us holding our breath. There are injunctions and judicial orders being issued and challenged and counter-challenged. I’m holding my breath to see how these roll out and if Trump and the Greedy Old Trump Party complies or flips the rulings the bird.
Today’s music comes out of the news. Another rock scene guitarist passed away. Guitarist and songwriter Mick Ralphs was part of Mott the Hoople and Bad Company. Mott the Hoople as a band name always encourages a grin on me. Reading of the news of Ralphs carried The Neurons back into the 1970s section of the gray vault. They dug out “All the Young Dudes”. Written by David Bowie, the song vibes with Ziggy Stardust nuances. So that has to be the theme music, a nod to a passing time and some interesting rock.
Got my coffee. Time to rock on. Cheers
Munda’s Wandering Thoughts
Some days, shit is happening, and all you can do is pretend to pursue the normal aspects of being. For one, war is hettin’ up in the Middle East or whatever you want to call it. It’s been a war zone for years. It’s usually a matter of who is going to strike back, how, and when. There will be violence, death, and destruction. The Middle East quagmire of religions, history, and tribes and factions are overstocked with tendencies to war.
Personally, dispiriting matters keep piling up in my world. I don’t write about all of them. Not going to start now. My basic bottom line which I return to again and again, is, this is life. Many of us — hell, I’ll go out on a limb and declare that most of us — go through this shit. I can only imagine how worse the shit is magnified if you’re suffering from serious diseases, homelessness, racism and other prejudice, discrimination, or hate. On paper, I have it pretty good but life is lived on a spectrum. We slide up and down it. I’m on the down side today.
We watched again a Neflix series on the gut and the biome’s influence on our brains and pains.* As part of this show, they talked about fecal transplants. Transplants were done by people who had problems and were seeking solutions. One woman used her boyfriend’s fecal material as her transplant source. She noted that he has ‘mental issues’ but didn’t specify more. Or maybe I spaced on it. I did catch her say that she began acting and feeling like him, emotionally unstable, anxious, and depressed. She quit using his shit and used her brother’s shit. After a week, she felt much better.
I imagine a future of routine fecal transplants. A partner on the computer says, “I’m ordering some groceries and things. Is there anything you need?”
“Yes, get me some new shit. I’m almost out of shit and I’m feeling it.”
“What shit do you want?”
“Same shit as last time. It should be in your order history.”
“Is it the Tom Cruise brand Improved Shit?”
“Yes, that’s the shit, but get a big jar. I’m really feeling it.”
“You got it.”
I think about whose shit I might order. Maybe Taylor Swift, Tom Brady, or Patrick Mahomes. I pity the fool who tries mine. But then again, I know people with some shit that’s a lot worse.
*The Neflix series is You Are What You Eat: A Twin Experiment
Munda’s Theme Music
Munda, June 23, 2025, has burst open with sunshine in Ashlandia. Climbing already, the temperature has surged from 50 F to 68 F with a final destination of 84 F. Blue sky is all I see, except for Sol rising in the east.
There’s early evidence that PINO Trump’s risky decision to bomb Iran did little outside of increasing the chances for war. Monitoring groups say that no radiation was detected coming from the bombed sites. Radiation would be expected if radioactive materials were being stored there. Trump had been telegraphing his intentions and the stealth B2 Spirit bombers’ movements were being tracked and reported in the media. Iran said it had evacuated from from Fordo and the attack did little damage to its nuclear aspirations. Time will tell.
Meanwhile, Iran has fired missiles at U.S. bases. Trump has never been a student of history, but come on, man. Did he really think that after his failed negotiations that bombing them once and warning them, “That’s it, it’s done,” was really going to do it? He’s obviously never been in fights or seriously competitive situations. One rarely gets knocked back once and say, “Gosh, well that’s over. I’m done.” No. The first knock down usually pisses the other party off. Iran has a definite macho history of being just like Trump, declaring, “If you hit us, we’re going to hit you so much harder.”
Trump has bought into the whole idea of ‘war is peace’. Not surprising. He’s been demoing upside down backwards thinking for years. And he’s thrived because backward thinking is plentiful among voters and business people. In a sidebar, Trump now has us at war with science, education, common sense, economic and world history, and Iran.
Another sidebar: hey, MAGAts and Trumpettes, remember when Trump promised to keep the U.S. out of Middle East wars and conflicts? How’s that playing out for you? Trump used to warn that President Obama was going to bomb another country because negotiations had failed. Classic Trump projection. Maybe he should send in Jared Kushner to broker another peace plan, because that first one is so robust. Yes, that was snark.
Displaying a remarkable sense of whimsy, The Neurons have place “Upside Down” in the morning mental music stream. No, not “Upside Down”, the disco hit by Diana Ross. No, this is the chill Jack Johnson tune of 2006 made for the animated film, Curious George. Guess Les Neurons thought that calming down and relaxing in the face of rising enshittification of the world would be good for my blood pressure or something.
Coffee has been served. Hope you all have the best day you can amidst the chaos and enshittification. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 