Category: Thinking, thinking

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Clouds mar Monroeville’s autumnal setting. Wenzda, October 29, 2025, is surging across the land. Cars grunt with acceleration down at the intersection, punctuating the 38 F air with flat blats of vehicle noise. Last day here; tomorrow we head home.

Visited with Mom yesterday, and she was in classic elderly Mom mode, telling stories with sharp-mind clarity although, as was her younger habit but veering into lateral paths from time to time, a pattern she has passed on to me. We met with a realtor about selling the house. Sis is lead tiger on that project, with inputs from the rest. The three local sisters are circling this project, as they’re local. Reasonable, right? Disappointed with the initial selling price suggestions, they are interviewing another realtor. I usually interview three before going with one, so I have no problem with doing that. Although the qualifier is that this first realtor is a friend of one sister and sold her the last house that sister lives in. With the Trump economy throwing up all over certainty and the future, home purchases in this area have quickly declined. The realtor said it looks like it’ll be slow for this quarter and the next.

I’m heading to Mom’s to search out papers. I figure I should just box them up and convey them to Mom’s new place where they can be reviewed in comfort as needed, instead of dispatching one of us to ‘find them’ at the old house.

Today’s music is dream related. As I reflected on the dream, in which I was dealing with many famous people but also trying to invent a new game, The Neurons came up with The Police, “Message In A Bottle”, in the morning mental music stream. I don’t get the connection…

May peace and grace be with you and me and all in between, if they ever get off their duff and come see us, that is. Here we go. Cheers

0

Twozdaz Theme Music

It’s Twozda, October 28, 2025, in Monroeville. My hotel windows face the north. Long fingers of early morning sunshine stretch out of blue skies and blow up the leaves’ autumn colors into fiery hues. It’s 41 F now. They’re pitching a high of 55 F. Rain is on the way for Thirstda, when we leave.

Mom’s hospital visit yesterday revealed no new problems. No breaks from her falls. No head damage, etc. She’s back with sis at sis’s house. They gave her morphine yesterday and she was confused today. Two big items are loaded for the Mom agenda today. Sis and I will meet with a realtor at Mom’s house to talk about putting it on the market. We also need to find the right size adult night time diapers for Mom. She leaks all night long. Wears diapers but they’re too big. Sis has mats on the bed but the leaking is so pervasive that her sheets end up soaked, necessitating taking off the bedding and washing it. I picked up more bedding yesterday so that the wash can be spaced out a few days. But new diapers are needed. I checked local big box stores for a new solution yesterday but nada was had. It’s diapers with pulls, not undies, needed.

Trump’s continued takedown of the United States inspired The Neurons with “Then the Morning Come” in the morning mental music stream. I was thinking that someday it will be morning in America after Trump is done. Then there will be a general, confused awakening. The GOP will realize the party’s over and go off to nurse their hangovers while the rest of us rebuild. So this Smashmouth song feels right for what’s happening now and what will happen when people visit the future building formerly known as the White House and ask, “OMG, WTF happened?” Many of them will proclaim, “I didn’t know. I had no idea.” Which will just earn them the greatest imaginable contempt from me. For how could you not know unless you’re burying your head and pretending, all is well, this is gonna be great? Yeah, I know, it doesn’t render that easily. Much more complicated, so Trump supporters tell me. Sure.

Then the Morning Comes

Good morning

Paint the town, take a bow
Thank everybody
You’re gonna do it again
You are the few, the proud
You are the antibody
Mind, soul and zen

And the world’s a stage
(And the world’s a faze)
And the end is near
So push rewind, just in time
Thank anybody
You’re gonna do it again

The way that you walk
It’s just the way that you talk
Like it ain’t no thing
And every single day is just a fling
Then the morning comes

Take your knocks, shake ’em off
Duck everybody
You’re gonna take ’em again
You are your foe, your friend
You are the paparazzi
You are the tragedian

And the world’s a craze
(And the world’s a faze)
And the end is near
So push rewind, just in time
Thank anybody
You’re gonna do it again

The way that you walk
It’s just the way that you talk
Like it ain’t no thing
And every single day is just a fling

And when it comes, it moves so slow
Kind of like it’s saying, “I told you so”
Looking back before she goes
Tomorrow’s gonna hurt

And the world’s a stage
(And the world’s a faze)
And the end is near
So push rewind, just in time
Thank anybody

It’s just the way that you walk
It’s just the way that you talk
Like it ain’t no thing
And every single day is just a fling
Then the morning comes

Off to do a little local sightseeing and shopping. Fingers crossed that peace and grace awaken from their slumber and come give us some relief. Till then, hang tight. Cheers

0

Twozdaz Wandering Political Thoughs

Just a reminder of what Saint Ronnie said…not that it matters to the MAGAlodytes. History is not their forte. Nor is critical thinking or bucking their beloved Trump, he who speaks from his ass, but says what they want to hear.

Meanwhile, back where the GOP controls the House, Senate, and the building formerly known as the White House, Trump shows his contempt and hatred for the United States and its citizens.

The poor should starve, says Trump administration

Sure, why not let Americans starve? There’d be less of ’em to grift, sure, but less of them to feed, less of them to criticize Trump, less of them to complain. Plus, with less ‘Muricans out there, simple supply and demand kicks in. Less people = less demand = less inflationary pressures = lower prices = happier people. That’s Trump’s ‘thinking’. All will be happy except those mourning the dead and those with the thinking set to see where all that will lead. Trump never did get the whole empathy and love thing. Never will. “Me, me, me,” is all he ever thinks and says. Which means he’ll screw We the People and the Constitution every time.

Trump really is a radical rightwing despot. So deranged. So radical and VERY LOW IQ. He proves it with his tweets on a regular basis. People read his tweets and ask, “How can this man walk and breathe at the same time? His IQ is too low to walk and breathe at the same time.” If it wasn’t for Putin, Trump would’ve already been imprisoned for his crimes against the United States. Should have happened after his first term. But Putin intervened and said, “No, he is a useful fool. Do what we can to get him re-elected so we can use his hatred of the United States so we can destroy it as an economic powerhouse and democracy once and for all.”

Trump doesn’t understand math. Third grade arithmetic. History. Science. Medicine. Sports. Cheats at everything. Everything. When he took the cognitive test, he paid people off to help him identify the animals. They were cheaply paid off, of course. Took just the promise of money. They’ll never see that money. He always breaks all of his promises.

That’s the Trump bottom line. Terrible person. Breaks everything. Breaking the nation. Destroying the White House. Cratering the economy.

But at least ‘the left’ is upset. So MAGAland is happy.

For now.

0

Mundaz Theme Music

October 27, 2025, has ambushed us, lowering another Munda on us with a soft sigh. Autumn weather is rampant in Monroeville. Blue sky, turning leaves, sunshine. 47 F, upper 50s will join us presently. I spoke with another elevator passenger after I came in from a walk. “Beautiful day outside.” “Yes,” he answered, “I love this time of year.” He got off the elevator, leaving me to finish to myself, I love it, too, but one morning I’ll awaken out of love with it.

Trump delivered another miracle announcement about how awesome and fantastic he is. This was about his MRI. “Best one they’ve ever seen,” he loudly cried. The he hurried to the place formerly known as the White House to put it on the refrigerator with his finger paintings so everyone can ah over it. Thing is, you don’t put ‘im in an MRI unless there’s a medical concern, right?

Mom’s bash was a celebration done right yesterday. A tiara announcing 90. A pink sash proclaiming, ’90 & Fabulous’. I’d picked up her pink party smock and her silver shoes, and that’s what she was wearing. Good food, twenty-four people representing the generations, happy time. But today, there she was, 7:58 AM, going to the hospital. She’d fallen. Sis wanted her checked out. Mom, a retired nurse, refused. Now, suddenly, yes, she needed to go to the hospital, Mom decided. So off they went. I slept through the text telling me this. Now I’m heading over there. Sad, as Mom was happy, alert, present, all that, yesterday. Ate well, etc. Now, here we go. Hopefully, it’s not a spiral into another prolonged health battle.

Recalling the party, though, The Neurons supplied me with “Shiny Happy People” by R.E.M. in the morning mental music stream.

Hope peace and grace get up and out of bed and come visit soon. Have the best you can in the meantime. Cheers

2

Satyrdaz Theme Music

So our hotel change is completed… This new room, a Hampton Inn, is very quiet and comfy.

Breakfast has been et. Sorry to note that Monroeville’s businesses are going through an enshittification but that’s another blog post.

It’s Satyrda, 10/25/2025. Sunny and pretty autumn Pittsburgh day, temperatures rolling in the mid 50s. Nice pigskin weather. Sis tells me Mom is up and awake and doing well. Sis is cleaning house. My wife and I will now run some errands and bolt toward sis’s house for a day of visiting. Our visit with Mom yesterday was entertaining. She’s decline since the last I saw her, two years ago. Has fallen several times in the past week. Sis says Mom’s right hip and thigh are all black and blue from hitting the floor. Mom’s new home arrangement is in flux at my sister’s house, but it’s a cozy setup, and Mom is as tight with cozy as crossed fingers.

Today’s music is “Run Through the Jungle”. CCR. The Neurons brought it forth as I resuscitated my Pittsburgh driving skills and kept it in the morning mental music stream. Only The Neurons were singing “Drive Through the Jungle”.

Gotta go chase some peace and grace down and try to entice it to out itself to us and hang. Meanwhile, let’s do the best possible for ourselves. Cheers

1

Fridaz Wandering Thoughts

Six AM Thirstda was approaching. We were flying north.

I told my wife, “I’m closing my eyes for a minute.” The Neurons piggybacked into the morning mental music stream with “Dream Weaver” but it didn’t keep.

Neither did keeping my eyes closed. I read for a while, drank coffee, ate the cookies the airline provided.

Funny, getting those cookies. Hundreds of dollars were paid for these seats. This attendant comes along and bends down with a tray and asks, like we’re children, “Would you like a cookie?”

Oh, yes, please!

Descent into SeaTac was been announced. The eastern sky faced me. Molten orange was knifing through the space between a dark stiletto of clouds and the horizon. Then, left – north – a white slice hooked my vision.

Shooting star!

I probably felt the same excitement distant forerunners felt when they looked into a dark sky and saw that quick slash of silvery light. Euphoria jumped me. I felt, yeah, that’s a good sign. A good omen.

I share all that with my wife.

She nodded. “I’m jealous.”

I smiled. A shooting star.

That’s better than a rainbow, in my book.

0

Thirstdaz Theme Music

Cold and dark outside on this Thirstda morning. We’re in the airport, listening for the call to board, packed close to others in the same situation. Conversations rock and roll, mostly one end of cell calls. I’m ready for more sleep. My wife sits tight against me, watching like a bird, observing with sharp eyes. It’s October 23, 2025. 40 F outside. Our trip home has begun.

Today’s music came out of nowhere. I don’t understand what The Neurons had in mind when the entrance to the morning mental music stream and “Champagne Supernova” by Oasis was allowed to flow in. I think about the words, and that refrain, “Where were you while we were getting high?” I think too, of the exultation that, “But you and I, we live and die, the world’s still spinnin’ round, we don’t know why, why, why, why, why.” I like the song’s flows. It’s soft, reflective gentleness at the beginning, like lapping the waves. The hammering, conflicting guitars challenging one another, escalating with the vocals later. Then the gentle fall at the end as the last line repeats over and over with different inflections, “We were getting high.” It’s all about life and courses, and changes to me, how some things lift us up and other matters dump us, and how we sometimes feel different and alien from others. But almost all of us play with those ideas about ourselves, I think, as we slip and slide on the spectrum of being, of what we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re going.

Goodness, that’s a lot of thinking and typing before having any coffee. Done worn me out.

0

‘Nother Trump Lie

Trump in July: Ballroom construction will not touch the East Wing

When the White House first released the plans for the ballroom on July 31, Trump told reporters that the 90,000-square-foot addition would be “built over on the east side and it will be beautiful.”

“It’ll have views of the Washington Monument. It won’t interfere with the current building,” he said. “It’ll be near it but not touching it and pay total respect to the existing building, which I’m the biggest fan of.”

Trump Is Wasting No Time in Tearing Down the East Wing

As roaring machinery tore down one side of the White House, President Trump acknowledged on Wednesday that he was having the entire East Wing demolished to make way for his 90,000-square-foot ballroom, a striking expansion of a project that is remaking the profile of one of the nation’s most iconic buildings.

Mr. Trump was unsentimental as news of the demolition spread. “It was never thought of as being much,” he said of the East Wing, which was home to the first lady’s office and spaces used for ceremonial purposes. “It was a very small building.”

From July of 2025 to October of 2025 was all it took for this lie to be revealed.

The East Wing went from being a place where Trump said, “I’m the biggest fan of” it to “It was never thought of as being much.”

Just one more example of his many tens of thousands of lies. Again.

Solid proof of why he can’t be trusted. Again.

Clear substance that nothing matters to him, not even what he said before. Again.

2

Seasons

Breaking away from writing, I step out for a walk. The sun has warmed us to a comfortable level. I stride along, nodding and saying hello to others encountered.

A shineless brown hot rod comes along. Roadster. Something out of the forties. Driven by a man who looks like he also originated in the forties, and a woman who might be a little younger, maybe even his daughter, as a passenger, bundled up in heavy clothes.

Putting along at 20 MPH, he guides the car to the side and waves a following vehicle past. Silver SUV, its twenty something driver gooses it faster. An electric vehicle, it glides by with a rising brash hum.

The scene on a small-town street seems so perfectly emblematic of change. Trees and their colors tell of the season changing around us, and there goes an old internal combustion car of a kind rarely seen, passed by an electric car, of the kind now commonly encountered.

Reality couldn’t have been better staged.

0

Wenzdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Every time that I think that the Trump Regime can’t piss me off, they sink to lower levels.

Trump Administration Cuts Cyberdefense Even as Threats Grow

Like, WTF. Then, oh, yeah. That makes sense.

It makes sense because the Trump Regime values nothing but wealth. Money money money. Gold! Look how he decorated the Oval Office with faux gold pieces. He thinks that’s impressive. “Look, it’s gold. Shiny.”

And yeah, it makes sense because the Trump Regime thinks little through. Trump farts and takes that as a divine sign that he should do something. Attack someone. Wreck a building. Steal more money. Go golfing. Lie about something. Given his behavior, he farts a lot.

If the cyberdefenses fail, there’d be widespread misery in the U.S. Trump’s actions can affect all aspects of the United States infrastructure and includes shipping, the supply chain, the power grid, business and commerce, and air travel, regardless of whether it’s a red state or blue state, regardless of how the votes went in any previous election. It’ll affect all people if those things fail, regardless of skin color, religion, or wealth. And as those things are used by the military, it impacts U.S. military readiness.

I can close by saying, what a fucking idiot. Again. What fucking idiots run that regime.

Or I can close, see? Trump hates the United States. He’s actively working to destroy it.

But really, it’s clearly both.

1

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑