Category: Thinking, thinking

WTF, America

It’s another WTF, America, January morning in 2025. Google brings us this one. Bending their knee to power, as greedy corporations do, they have decided to rename things in accordance with the wishes of the First Peckerhead. In case you’re unaware, I’m referring to the first felon elected as POTUS in the history of the United States, aka #47.

Tell you what. I’m not caterng to this damn whim. It’s still the Gulf of Mexica and Denali to me. I’m not going to help the right-wing machine rewrite history, culture, or facts.

End of.

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Wezda’s Theme Music

Here we go. It’s 2025’s first month’s final Wezda. Yes, 29 Jan. 2025. What a month it’s been. Nine days of assault on the U.S. Constitution, human rights, and common decency. Meanwhile, Ashlandia still has had no snow or rain. We’re bathing in another day of blue sky, sunshine, and stagnant air. Yowza. 33 now, up from the 26 F overnight low, we’re expecting to visit 56 F by the time the sun’s regional visit end. That’s exactly how it went yestiday, too.

Happy Chinese New Year! It’s the Year of the Snake. I don’t know what merits and deficiencies are presented by the snake in Chinese culture or elsewhere, but here in ‘Merica, snakes are deadly and are not to be trusted. So the Year of the Snake is apropros for the sick actors now occupying positions of authority in Wash., DC and the halls of power, starting with that head snake, DJ Trump and his henchmen, the GOTP.

I’m not gonna visit that shitshow yet. Not ready. Coffee and I made a handshake agreement but I’m just indulging in my first cuppa. I need more than that before approaching the news in this age. So it’s on to music.

I don’t know why Der Neurons dug up today’s song. But they have dragged “Trippin’ on a Hole in a Paper Heart” by Stone Temple Pilots into the morning mental music stream. I have part of the song’s 1996 chorus popping through my mouth: “I am I am I said, I’m not myself, I’m not dead and I’m not for sale.” Is it grunge or just modern rock? The labels are useful for many to decide before they consume it. It’s not soul, R&B, or bubblegum. I can tell you that it’s upbeat and guitar driven with solid bass lines and masterful drum work.

This is another song that I got to know while working traffic in the SF-SJ Bay Area, on my way to and from places like shopping and employment. Our main artery was Highway 101. Wherever and whenever between six AM and like 9 PM, traffic was heavy and a challenge to your sanity. Plenty of sudden, rarely explained stops, with waits to move again. So having the radio there for news and music helped.

Hope you enjoy the music and find a way through the day, whatever it brings you, whatever it brings us. Courage, as the man said to himself as the firing squad lined up. Courage.

Cheers

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Twosda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

The FAFO moments are beginning to stack. In this corner, we have a Republican out of Nebraska calling ‘foul’ on one of Trump’s executive orders.

This would be Rep. Don Bacon. He’s upset about Trump’s executive order cutting off the money from the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act.

“You just can’t determine what laws you want to execute and what you don’t,” Bacon said, adding that executive orders from presidents representing both parties have “gotten out of hand.”

How quickly Bacon bounced to bothsiderisms, right? This is emerging as a reflex. Whenever someone supported Trump and suddenly is upset by what he’s doing, they add a bothsides qualifier. Anyway, Bacon was okay with the executive order cutting off funds before it hit his project. He claimed OMB told him that his project wasn’t affected. Gosh, now that it is, he’s really upset.

I expect to see more out of this one. As communities see the monies appropriated for their local improvements cut off, they’ll begin calling out the issue to their reps. They’re keeping a close eye on it in Tennessee. Officials in West Virginia have contacted the White House to ensure their projects will still get their money.

Over in engineering and construction circles, they might be getting upset. Back in November, Brian Turmail, Associated General Contractors of America vice president of public affairs and workforce, was quoted saying, “Killing construction jobs after an election where the winner was elected thanks in large part to votes from people who do construction just doesn’t seem very likely.” 

Is that hilarious? Tragically so, IMO, since these voters clearly didn’t understand the man they were putting into office. They assigned him common sense that he completely lacks.

So yep, they FA. Now they’ll FO.

Am I enjoying this a little too much? Probably! They are fellow Americans. Fellow humans. But they ignored everything we warned them. Laughed at us and dismissed what they were being told. So, yes, I’m bitterly jubilant that Trump is showing them that we were right.

So yes, I will keep posting FAFO. Those in the Trumpissphere will never acknowledge how he’s screwing them. Most will probably never know. Many who do realize they’re being screwed will rationalize it. They will also pull out the bothsides card. Blame the Dems for not being there for them.

They’ll say and do everything except take responsibility for their own narrow, shallow thinking. Just like their glorious leader.

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Twosda’s Theme Music

This is Twosda, January 28, 2025. Sunshine has won another Ashlandia winter morning. It’s been served with a lavish side of blue sky and a big bowl of stagnant air. Temperature is 34 and will probably achieve something in the low 50s F, ‘they’ tell me. That’s where it went yesterday. They keep telling us cold weather is on the way but it’s remained generally the same for a few weeks. Still no snow, and no sign of any arriving soon. Nor have we had rain in a while. The Southern Oregon University graphics paint the scene.

I went into the stagnant air late yesterday afternoon to do a few quickies: collect mail, put out the trash and recycle, pet Papi as he rolled around on the driveway. The air had a funky smell. It reminded me of the odor that came with pouring starter fluid on charcoal briquets and lighting them. Don’t know if you’re familiar with that scent. I know it well from childhood. Not a good smell to have no matter where you walk outside. I don’t think it’s healthy, you know?

Trump and the GOTP continue their grand destruction tour. He thinks bullying Colombia with tariffs demonstrate how ‘tough’ the U.S. is. He’s such a sad joke leading a sad party. It’s terrible that ignorance et al has empowered him. Well, the FAFO hits will just keep stacking. Overreach, followed by a tipping point and a crash will bring the party to a calamitous halt. Tragically, given his obstinate nature and his circle of sycophants, the signs will be missed until it’s a HFM. That’s those morons’ proven history in this century.

In dreamland, I am now embarked on this weird erotic dream series. I seem to have one every other night for the past two weeks. My dreams often go into cycles. The normal cycles focus on driving cars, making discoveries, surviving disasters, or being reassured. I also cycle into periods of dreams that seem like adventure movies. I often wonder about the conditions which trigger these different cycles. I have a sketchy grasp on some but the bigger picture eludes me.

Der Neurons have brought music by the Offspring into the morning mental music stream. The 1997 song is called “Gone Away”. A box of thoughts kicked the song out of the mental dust and into the MMMS. Thoughts about going away, combined with thoughts of checks and powers going away, with a tincture of reflections about about who have passed, and there you have it.

Coffee made some overtures to me, and I accepted. Now we’re sitting together, enjoying a hot cuppa. Hope you have a strong day and a satisfying life. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Saw this posted on Facebook yesterday.

Pete Hegseth confirmed and our new defense secretary 👏👏

JD broke the tied vote (51-50). Pete deserves this appointment and I’m confident he will do great things for our beloved military members and veterans. These men and women deserve someone that has their back first and foremost.

The U.S. and citizens will be safer because of this man. 2025 will be a great year at this pace.

Sad to see the vote so partisan but not surprised one bit.

Pretty much what I think many MAGAts are thinking and saying. Fed by Fox and the right-wing media, they actually believe this tripe. Most bitter for me, the cited words were written by a nephew.

Here we go, America. FAFO on a huge magnitude. SMFH.

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Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

It’s funny, sometimes.

My wife picked up a skillet the other day. Washed and dried, she was putting it away. When she turned, the skillet nailed her glass of water on the counter. Put the glass airborne and shattered it into sixteen zillion pieces of glass. Water, Everywhere.

We have hardwood floors in that part of the house — kitchen, foyer, dining room, halls. The glass was cleaned up as best as we could. But. It’s glass.

A few days after the incident, a piece of glass found my heel. Bleeding and pain followed. As the situation unfolded, after almost fifty years of marriage and three more years of being together, my wife asked me, “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

I replied, “I don’t wear shoes in the house.”

Yep, it’s funny, sometimes.

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The Writing Moment

Scenes hang in my mind, waiting to be unfolded. A line or two or three is written. A pause to contemplate them is embraced. More lines come, get written. The growing new scene is reviewed, lightly edited. More lines come, more gets written.

Sometimes, the pause gets extended. I surf into news articles and others’ posts. Then a muse spears my attention and I jump back to the scene being written. Lines are added. They stack into paragraphs. Paragraphs stack into pages. I review what I wrote and lightly edit.

That scene is eventually done. The next one is considered and plotted in my head. I approach again. A line or two or three is written. So it goes.

Meanwhile, muses ambush me with a new concept. I’m reading a non-fiction article about glaciers. The concept harpoons my mind. I grin with delight and think, oh, wow, that would be fun. An opening scene begins unfolding.

I open up a new doc to capture the first lines. Scenes are written. They turn into chapters and branch into a structure’s glimmerings. I think, this will be my next project. I rummage around my brain for a title. A tentative one is hauled out. Rejected. Another bubbles up. Acceptable. More is realized and written. The working title is modified. The quick, sudden progress surprises me. This will definitely be fun to write. But first, the other novel in progress must be finished.

I close the document. Return to the work in progress. A line or two or three is written. I’m close to the end. Close to tying it all up and saying to myself, finished.

So it goes.

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Sunda’s Theme Music

Good morning’! Welcome to Sunda, Jan. 26, 2025. We’re closing out 2025’s first month, and what a first month it’s been!

Here in Ashland, we have…drum roll, please…blue skies and sunshine again. Current temp is 33 F and the ever present ‘they’ are speaking of highs in only the upper forties. A stout wind carrying wintry shards have cranked up. It’s moanin’, groanin’, and hissin’, while tossin’ loose things around like an irritated gorilla.

Today’s song emerged because I was singing “Hash Pipe” to myself. “Hash Pipe” is a 2001 Weezer song. Its first vocal line is sang in descending notes. The words go, “I can’t help myself, I go out of my mind.”

Hearing that, The Neurons unburied a point about those lyrics. They’re lifted from a Beatles song, “You Can’t Do That”, from 1964. Pivoting with that, Der Neurons filled my morning mental music stream with the Beatles’ song.

Sing along with me.

“So please listen to me if you want to stay mine.
“I can’t help my feelings, I go out of my mind.
“I’m going to let you down and leave you flat.
“I told you before, oh, you can’t do that.”

Never bought it, but I know the song well.

“Hash Pipe” was being sung because of a NYTimes Tale. I read a piece about MAGA folks and where they thought Trump was leading them. They were interviewed after the inauguration. Man, talk about a misinformed, misguided bunch. Even after all these years of exposure to their many instances of ignorance, I’m still shocked when I encounter it. For instance, here’s a woman from PA:

We are so divided. It’s scary. Scary for the kids that are growing up, like my grandkids. I don’t like the way this country’s turned — all this woke stuff. Stuff that the kids shouldn’t be exposed to. I think I was 18 before I knew that there was gay people, you know? I listened to Queen. I didn’t know he was gay.

Amish came out in Pennsylvania. They came out in droves. They came out in their horse and buggies. It was incredible. So that’s a united country again. We’re tired of being lied to.

I infer from what she said that she thinks Trump speaks truth. *head shake*

Beyond that example, they demonstrate no idea how tariffs, the economy, or energy production and prices work. They believe all those things Trump says he’s doing with his magic pen. They believe this, of course, because they’re fully wired into right-wing news sources. So even when inflation doesn’t drop, prescriptions drug prices increase, unemployment rises, food shortages spread, and pollution mars our land, water, and air, they’ll be blissfully touting all the great things Trump is doing.

That is part of the big picture. Create a right-wing media that disparages the left and praises the right without regard to the truth or facts. Dismantle the education system so people no longer know history, economics, science, and government. Shutter transparency on the government by firing inspectors and dismantling agencies. Crush opposition so there are no dissenting voices. Teach the big lies in church as part of their religious worship. And of course, keep ’em soaking in fear: fear of what the left is doing by mislabeling Democrats as socialists and communists, which are dirty words in the right-wing. Keep ’em in fear by lying to them about what the LGBTQ+ community does to their children. Fuel their fear with worries about immigrants taking their jobs and eating their pets.

The transformation will be complete, and Trump voters will never know. They’ll go down, whining about increased prices, high unemployment, dirty air, and so on, without ever understanding how they were part of it, how they were duped and used. It’s a con on a national scale.

And that’s why “Hash Pipe” was being sung. There’s a chorus about being kicked in the song.

Oh, come on and kick me
Oh, come on and kick me
(Whoa) Come on and kick me
You’ve got your problems (Whoa)
I’ve got my eyes wide (Whoa)
You’ve got your big G’s
I’ve got my hash pipe

h/t to Bing.com

See, those GOTP supporters are asking to be kicked. But that’s okay. They got their hash pipe. In their case, their hash pipe is the fear hatred that fuels their bitterness, sexism, and racism; or entertainment like video games, television shows, sporting events, and movies that keep ‘em distracted. Meanwhile, reality will keep kicking them, and they won’t fuckin’ know it.

Ignorance is truly bliss.

Coffee and I have are into another one-morning stand. Here’s the music. Hope you have a strong day. Please, don’t ever turn your back on the truth. Here we go with some music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

I checked out someone’s song offering on their blog this morning. The song was a Gordon Lightfoot tune, “If You Could Read My Mind”. Another person commented, “Another song I would never have bought, but I know all the lyrics off by heart nonetheless.“

I commented and then walked away thinking, Pete is right. I know so many songs that I never bought. Some of course, was through radio osmosis. Born in 1956 in the United States, I grew up as part of a car culture that had music playing on car radios. Small transistor radios invaded, and I had one of those to keep me linked into the emerging genres populating the 1960s airwaves.

Mom played her part. I’ve never bought anything by Dean Martin, Hank Williams, Bobby Darin, Patsy Cline, Rosemary Clooney, Doris Day, Tony Bennett, Barbra Steisand, Glen Campbell, Fats Domino, Chubby Checkers, Frank Sinatra, Tammy Wynette, Johnny Cash, the Platters, Ink Spots, Louis Armstrong, etc., but if you put me on a stage and made me sing one, I could do it.

Sisters’ albums plied the air with offerings from bands and performers like Grand Funk Railroad, Peter, Paul, and Mary, the Foundations, the Lettermen, Bread, Sonny & Cher, the Boxtops, the Fruitgum Company, Dusty Springfield, Petula Clark, Lulu, the Turtles, Freddie and the Dreamers, Herman and the Hermits, and so on.

Girlfriends played their part, seeding my mind with Nancy Sinatra, Gordon Lightfoot, the Monkees and the Archies, the Association, the Beatles, Roberta Flack, Carol King, Neil Diamond, Carly Simon, Frankie Valli, and more. Other friends and relatives shared Kenny Rogers (& the Fifth Edition), Three Dog Night, Stealers Wheel, the Byrds, Harry Nilsson, Ricky Nelson, and then later, Brooks & Dunn, Metallica, Whitesnake, Toto (although I did buy Toto 4), and a whole lotta disco.

Then my wife added more, introducing me to Cat Stevens, Seals and Croft, Al Jarreau, and Johnny Rodriguez.

For me, it was a diet of anything Eric Clapton, Marvin Gaye, or Steve Winwood was involved with, the Rolling Stones, Stevie Wonder, Deep Purple, Steppenwolf, Pink Floyd, the Who, Led Zep, the Kinks, the Zombies, the Animals, Jimi Hendrix, Jethro Tull, Grateful Dead, Frank Zappa, Neil Young, Sam & Dave, the Guess Who, ZZ Top, Mountain, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Moody Blues, Robert Johnson, the Beach Boys, Canned Heat, Ten Years After, Fleetwood Mac, Albert King, King Crimson, Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, Sly & the Family Stone, Aretha Franklin, Etta James, and Blue Oyster Cult. Later came Boston, van Halen, Reo Speedwagon, Rush, the Eurythmics, Chris Rea, Stevie Ray Vaughn, the Clash, the Sex Pistols, Stone Roses, Status Quo, Men at Work, Midnight Oil, STP, Pearl Jam, Bush, Dire Straits, the Police, Sting, and a whole bunch of others.

There’s a web of songs in my mind, and I only wove a few of the strands.

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