Sunda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Yes, the United States is taking a deep nosedive into being an authoritarian state under Trump.

Didn’t start with him. No. We’ve been on this course almost since the nation’s inception. Growing differences in ideologies fed rising polarization. Voter apathy and a two-party system that often operates more like private clubs threw on heavy and recurring douses of high-octane fuel. One issue voters contributed. So did a professional class of politicians homesteading in Congress, more eager for continued employment and personal prestige and power than effective governing, or even the rules of order. A deliberate decision for several news outlets to blatantly skew news to promote their agendas helped the flames grow brighter and hotter.

Dark money in political donations is a cause. As is the growing wealth divide. That divide has always been there. We’ve had robber barons before. Railroad, oil, and ranching empires. Now we have power-hungry oligarchs corrupting the system and controlling the technology and means of communications. As our founders warned, don’t trust the bankers. Beware of the money men. And, as always, beware of religion taking over the state. Even if that religion revolves around the worship of cash and power.

With these issues, things are frequently simplified and boiled down to semantics. Sound bites. PR campaigns. Streaming and television ads. When does life begin? What is sex and gender? Who has the right to citizenship and due process? What is meant by a ‘well-regulated militia’?

Republicans in recent years have become effective bigfooting facts and the truth. Now they’re attacking science and education as the enemy. Outlawing words, history, books, and ideas. They’ve long wanted to reduce the size of the Federal government. We all know the famous quote about drowning it in the bathtub.

Of course, our eagerness as a nation and as individuals to embrace cults and saviors is complicit. We want order. But we want equal rights. Principled people are requested to make decisions and lead us. But principled people in charge are growing rarities. It costs money to run a political campaign. Big donors want something in return for their money. Bullying tactics are employed. Toe the line or you’re gone. Executive Orders become royal decrees. Doesn’t matter what Congress appropriated; a POTUS gets in office and attaches strings to the spending. My way or no way.

It’s little surprise that threats, bullying, and being obstinate is the usual political tactic of choice. Many of us learn it via parenting, from being parents or being ruled by parents. “Do it like this because I said so.” “Do your homework or you won’t get dessert.” That parenting and teaching style, that management style has been reinforced by popular culture via television shows and movies. It takes place in sports. How many players will simply ‘hold out’ for more money and better conditions? Workers are forced to strike for better conditions because executives and CEOs want greater profits even at the cost of workers’ health, lives, and safety. Being tough and strong means not backing down. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.” Except that’s exactly what we do. Taking it to the ultimate step, corporations and the wealthy demand conditions to build new factories. Tax breaks. Special rights. If they don’t get it, they’ll take their manufacturing elsewhere. For the affected communities, it’s often lose-lose. It is effectively financial terrorism as a negotiating ploy.

So it goes, a long and ugly downward spiral, the perfect mélange of power, money, capitalism, apathy, ignorance, and greed.

We are not the first nation to face this challenge. We were one of the first nations to attempt a democratic rule of the people, by the people, for the people. Catchy slogan, isn’t it? As always, who should be included as part of ‘the people’ is in disagreement. Women weren’t originally included. Blacks were marginally involved. Indians? No. Gays, lesbians? Never thought of. Many still don’t want to think of them. Claims that it’s against science. Or their religion. Or it personally offends them. Myths about it all are created and circulated. “Blacks are dumber.” “Gays groom children.” Anecdotal tales are held up as absolute truths. See Willy Horton. See ‘the welfare queen.’ Or for a more modern example, see ‘DEI’. Now many live in fear of the servant of the people, the current White House resident, unsure of how he’ll wield power, unsure what it’ll do to our lives, unsure what we can do about him, afraid of the economic and political forces he’s accumulating, afraid of him acting as a power of one.

We’ll probably survive this threat posed by Trump and the spineless GOTP and their base. But we’re not likely to address the structural deficiencies which brought us to this point. That’s hard work. Challenging. We disagree on too many elements to come together and fix it. Or many wealthy people want more wealth. Wealth spells improved comfort. More security. Greater freedom. So, aided by the wealthy, indifferent, and uninvolved, we’ll keep devolving until even our name is a mockery of who we pretend to be:

The United States of America.

Saturda’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m addicted to people watching. People fascinate me. The way they move, talk, walk. Too often I only know their surface. So, I love it when they share me.

Today, one of my favorite baristas informed me that Monday is her final day. That surprised me; she’s been here for a while and went through the training to become a Starbucks manager. Now she’s moving on to the Medford Police Department as a community liaison officer.

Since she engaged me and made the revelation, I pecked at her with questions. She willingly volunteered that her family is part of the law enforcement community. Mom is a homicide detective with twenty-seven years of experience. Dad is the chief of police. Like, wow. Her ultimate goal is to be a forensic psychology. She’s in a master’s program to that end, although it is an online course. She ultimately wants to help people traumatized by crime and testify as an expert witness.

I’ll miss her, yes, but it’s wonderful to learn more about people and witness them reaching for their dreams.

Saturda’s Theme Music

Papi cat is not happy. I know this because of the shouting meows. Not just the sound. He faces me and leans into it. Stretches his jaws wide. He’s Maria Callas using his diaphragm to belt it out.

“I know,” I tell him.

Rain fell all night. Sometimes in buckets. Papi is not a friend of rain. We also re-installed the pet door. In days past, Tucker slept on the mat in front of the pet door. That meant no other animal was entering. With Tucker gone, we decided the food bowls needed to be moved further away.

Background is, we had a buncha cats at one point. They usually didn’t get along. So we had three feeding stations. One in each the laundry room, the office, and the bedroom. In the bedroom, the feeding station lives by the wall beside the sliding door where the pet door resides. We thought it needed to be moved further away so that some passing animal didn’t sniff the kibble richness and come in through the pet door. Since Tucker is no longer guarding the pet door.

But all that change has Papi irritated. Pour the rain on top and he feels that the world is a cruel and injust place.

“I know,” I tell him. “I had to change my diet due to high blood pressure. It sucks.”

“Meyeah,” Papi wailed back.

Yes, it has rained all night. It’s wet and chilly this morning. 44 F and rain. The high will be 51 F and rain. The low will be 41 F and rain. The rain is good for the land, we remind each other. The pep in our pep talks is petering out, though. Everyone wants sunshine until they don’t. Then we want rain. Until we don’t. It’s the cycle of complaint. Weather version.

This is Saturda. April 26, 2025. Still spring in Ashlandia. And typical Ashlandia spring weather.

I’m a little miffed. I had yard plans. I’d been making progress. The rain has placed a pause on the cause. I can’t do the things planned, cause rain and electric power equipment. I’ve read somewhere that they are not a good combination.

I’m happy it’s Saturday. The news cycle slows on the weekends. News doesn’t stop but less people are reporting and airing it. Much as I’d like a break from it, we need to stay vigilant against the Trusk Regime’s evil. That evil goes 24/7. Just when you think their empathy has bottomed, they show a lower side. Most recently, they deported a two-year US citizen. Because, Trump. He no like the 16th Amendment. So he decided to ignore it. Because that’s what you do if you dislike laws. It’s the Trump U.S.A. way.

Snark alert: The other ‘good’ news is that the number of measles cases keep rising. Looks like RFK Jr’s plans just can’t get an angle on stopping it. Probably because he eschews using science and medicine.

Final bit of irritating news. Trump says he’s talking to China about the tariffs. China says, “No, he isn’t.” Either side could be lying. Given Trump’s record, I believe it’s him. Trump is lying. Yet again.

Puttering through the kitchen at pre-coffee speed, The Neurons raised a line in my head. “Let me remember things I don’t know.” I further slowed. I know the line. That wasn’t the line. That was a mondegreen: a misunderstood song line. Urging The Neurons into more effort, the song and real line punched in:

“Let me remember things I love, Lord.” CCR. “Green River”.

Coffee has made a safe landing in my body. Dressed, fed, and caffeinated, I am re-animated for another day. Hope you have a day that works in your favorite. It can happen. Cheers

Frida’s Wandering Political Thoughts

A Democratic Party insider told me who the party supports as candidate for the 2028 nominee for POTUS.

“John F. Kennedy.”

I raised a salient objection. “He’s dead. Worse, he’s been buried.”

“True, true, true.”

“You’re not talking about a clone.”

“Of course not. That’d be silly. No, we’re thinking, AI.”

“Articial Intelligence?”

“What else? Listen, if corporations are people, why can’t AI be people?”

“I need to think about that,” I answered.

“Okay, let me tell you more. See if I can convince you. What we did is create an AI that’s modeled on President John F. Kennedy’s thinking. We fed all the interviews which we could find, all his papers, speeches, books, diaries, and journals, along with biographies about him, into a quantum computer. It then developed the ability to replicate JFK’s thinking and speaking, giving us a virtual entity who is just like him. It’s uncanny. Wait until you see it.”

I was shaking my head in skepticism. “It’ll never work.”

“We think it will. He polls very well.”

“I don’t think people are ready for AI to be elected to any office.”

“No, no, turns out that almost 80 percent of likely voters who were polled said they could support AI for president. A majority of voters think that AI is more principled and intelligent than many politicians holding office or running for nomination. In fact, more people are willing to vote for AI than a woman.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, but what about his assassination over sixty years ago? Surely, that’s a drawback.”

“No, no, no. Many people have always believed that JFK wasn’t really killed, that all of that was just a fiction to get him out of office.”

“Even if they believe that, it’s six decades later. He’d be over a hundred years old. Do you really think that people will support a candidate who is over hundred years old after what we endured with Joe Biden?”

My source grinned. “We told them that JFK was cryogenically stored. He’s only fifty years old.”

“They believe that?”

“You’d be surprised what they believe. Just to seal the deal, Elvis Presley is endorsing JFK.”

“Presley?” I laughed. “He’s been dead since — “

“No, no, he wasn’t dead. He was in storage, too. Trust me. We’ve done the research. The numbers support this idea.

“Presley and Kennedy are still alive. Along with Walt Disney and Jackie O. All are alive. They’ve all just been frozen. The time has come for the truth to be told.”

My source leaned forward. “The people are ready for Camelot’s return. JFK will kick Trump’s ass. Remember, you heard it here first.”

Frida’s Wandering Thoughts

“What did you do?” my wife asked.

Sixteen million slapdash responses plied my mental waters. I decided that caution should be employed. “About what?”

“Your face.”

I felt like I’d walk in on a conversation already in progress. We were the only people present. My wife definitely meant me.

“What do you mean?” I checked a nearby mirror. “I look gorgeous.”

“Your mustache looks wrong.”

“How?” My mustache looked perfect. Well, as close to perfect as I can get it. Let’s not dive too deeply into those waters.

“One side is different than the other.”

“How?”

“It’s just different. They’re not the same. Look in the mirror.”

“I did. It looks fine.”

My really good mood soured, I went to the coffee shop.

A good friend was the barista on duty. I asked her, “How does my face look?”

Eyebrows quirking up into questioning arcs, she looked at me. Shrugged. “Same as always. Why?”

I told her what my wife claimed. She studied me. “I don’t see that. You’re very well groomed. You always are.”

“Thank you.”

Arriving home later, I carefully watched my wife. I was worried. She’d obviously been replaced by a robot, cyborg, or alien. Robot with AI made the most sense. A lot of AI is not all it’s cracked up to be.

What I will need to do is observe her and develop a series of test questions to verify my wife’s identity. I mean, trust but verify, right?

Especially in this messed up Age of Trump.

Frida’s Theme Music

Clouds have moved into Ashlandia. As neighbors go, they tend to being quiet but flighty. They’re also large but I don’t want to body shame anyone.

With the clouds, we get warmer nights but colder days. Last night only slipped down to 51 F. Today’s high will be 61 F. Will it rain? Let me consult with my digitized Magic 8 Ball. Magic 8 says “It is decidely so.”

Today, BTW, is marked as Friday, April 25, 2025. One third of 2025 is about to end. Despite all of PINO Trump’s promises, preening, and bullying, the Russia-Ukraine goes on. The government is in miserable shape and not saving any money. People are losing 401K money because the stock market and bond market are waaayyy worse than under the previous POTUS. Tourism is down. Talk and worries about empty shelves, increasing unemployment, recession and even economic depression is increasing. Pundits already call it the Trumpcession.

PINO Trump responds to it all with glee. “Look how much money my billionaire friends made.” He alternates that with, “What, me — worry?”

I have The Outsiders performing in the morning mental music stream. The song is “Time Won’t Let Me”. Released in 1965, it grew into a hit and radio staple. That led to its purchase as a 45 RPM offering. The record became part of the basement playlist in our neighborhood. We usually did that over at Tracy and Carolyn’s house, as they had a finished basement.

The Smithereens did a cover for the 1994 movie Timecop, starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. I admit, I prefer the original song.

Coffee has come to my aid again, fortifying my psyche for reading the news. Hope you’re all well out there in streaming land, cuz here we go. Cheers

Thirstda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Spinal Tap should be proud.

Preppers are in a tizzy.

Several CEOs met with O2. That’s the One Orange. Frequently living in Florida, he allows time off from his busy golf schedule to sign executive orders. Many of those EOs are about tariffs. That’s what has the preppers wringing their hands. The CEOs run big box stores. They’re retailers. They were warning Trump that the tariffs would soon cause empty shelves, falling sales, and failing consumer confidence so Trump needed to back off tariffs. Which, despite declaring that he never would, Trump did. Because the CEOs are wealthy O2 backers. If not for them, and other millionaires and billionaires, Trump may not have made it back into the White House to bless the world with chaos. Now, this chaos was completely predictable. Trump said he was going to tariff every jot and tittle entering the United States. So it is tres amusing that these big box stores are worried.

The preppers were worried because, doom buying. They wanted to know what is not going to be on the shelves.

The preppers should talk to the truckers and the west coast ports. Because Trump isn’t worried about it.

Stuff enters the U.S. through those ports. Port authorities, freight companies, and dock workers say the ports are gonna be ghost haunts. Nothing is expected in. As critically, little is getting shipped out from the United States. Thanks to sharp price increases caused by the tariffs, orders for U.S. goods are being cancelled. These cancelled orders and empty ships are causing a productivity slow down. People are being laid off or terminated.

Gee, that worked out swell, didn’t it, MAGA?

Sanity was the first casualty of Trump’s personal economic war.

Stability was the second.

Third are workers, soybean farmers, and truckers. All are facing layoffs, or increased costs and decreased profits, or business shutdowns. Trump did the same thing in his first term. Enjoying that experience so much, he’s turned the craziness up to eleven.

Yes, that is a Spinal Tap reference. Spinal Tap used Trump logic to explain why their music is louder.

The phrase was coined in a scene from the 1984 rock mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap by the character Nigel Tufnel, played by Christopher Guest. In this scene, Nigel gives the rockumentary’s director, Marty DiBergi, played by Rob Reiner, a tour of his stage equipment. While Nigel is showing Marty his Marshall guitar amplifiers, he points out a selection whose control knobs all have a highest setting of eleven, unlike standard amplifiers whose volume settings are typically numbered from 0 to 10. Believing that this numbering increases the highest volume of the amp, he explains, “It’s one louder, isn’t it?” When Marty asks why not simply make the 10 setting louder, Nigel hesitates before responding: “These go to eleven.”

h/t to Wikipedia.org

Fortunately for truck drivers, the UAW, soybean farmers, Boeing, and big business in general, they supported Trump’s re-election campaign. He told them he would raise tariffs. They supported him and his positions and voted him into office. They now have what they wanted.

Right?

Wenzda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

I liked the article’s headline.

 Trump, a ‘humiliated clown’ who always pretends he never backs down, backed down again

That’s Lawrence O’Donnell’s take on Trump. Trump is a clown. I so agree.

Trump was reversing himself on tariffs. Again. Trump claimed before that leaders of all these other nations were calling and begging him to make deals. No evidence of that emerged. If anything, Trump’s claim was 180 degrees from the truth.

You got to ask: if his high tariff approach was working so well and all those leaders wanted deals, why is Trump singing a different song now?

The short of it seems to be business. Stock market losses have people remembering the worse April since the Great Depression. The sliding dollar isn’t reassuring anyone, either.

Trump’s tariffpause is like menopause. Has people running hot and cold and getting emotional, irritated, impatient, and easily annoyed.

His tariffpause seems to come from CEOs warning him about empty shelves and declining sales.

The CEOs of Walmart, Target, Home Depot and Lowe’s, all of whom delivered a blunt message about interruptions in the supply chain and its effects on consumers, were invited to the White House as part of an ongoing internal campaign to make the case to Trump about the real-world impact of his policies, administration officials said.

Trump’s tariffs have placed significant pressure on the retail sector. The business leaders warned that store shelves across America could “soon be empty,” two people familiar with the meeting said, as they presented a dire economic picture that could come into sharper view within weeks.

Gosh, no one saw that coming way back when Trump brayed about imposing tariffs.

Yes, that’s some 24-karat snark.

Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

“Priscilla wants Peeps. She’s providing them.”

My wife informed me of these things as we shopped for Easter Brunch ‘garnish’ last week. Chocolates, jellybeans, Jordan almonds, gummi Easter treats. Quite a cornucopia of sugar.

I was glad we weren’t buying Peeps. I dislike the marshmallow concoctions. Recent flavors like Dr. Pepper doesn’t sell them to me. My sister loves them. Especially stale Peeps. Gads.

I joke about Peeps flavors with friends. None of them like them, either.

“What if they were beer flavored?” I asked.

My friends seem horrified and mystified. “How will that work?” one asks. “Will they be sweet?”

“Yes, marshmallow beer,” I answer.

Eye rolling and groans meet this answer.

Priscilla provided a bowl of neatly organized Peeps. She’s always organized. Just her way.

I was staring at the bowl. She joined me. “I don’t see any of the new-flavored Peeps,” I said.

“No.” Priscilla frowned. “I only buy traditional Peeps.”

Hours later, clean up began at the Brunch. It looked like the bowl of Peeps had lost one. I had not seen anyone eating any.

“Want to take some Peeps home?” Priscilla asked.

“No, thanks,” my wife and I sang together.

Priscilla nodded. “We’ll probably just throw them out.”

But I wondered: will she really eat them in secret later?

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑