Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Over at Salon, Chauncey DeVega has an excellent piece on the state of Trump. The article is called, “Donald Trump is suffering from a severe case of political whiplash”. Culling information from multiple news sources and events, DeVega brings it together with intelligent analysis.
The gist is that Donald Trump, master of destructive tactics, can’t find a new handle to attack the Harris -Walz campaign. Flailing, his desperation is showing.
First, there’s the fake crowd angle. Trump is accusing the Harris – Walz campaign of using AI to create fae crowds. Brief but sharp, Chauncy DeVega brings in Jonathan Chait commentary from New York Mag. to demonstrate how Trump has fallen into a deep well of demented thinking.
“Trump is literally claiming Harris spoke before an empty room, created a false impression of a large crowd, with the participation of the national media that reported on the event as it occurred. He then bootstraps this ludicrous assertion into the charge that Harris is stealing the election and ‘should be disqualified.’ The most important thing about this Trump claim is that it confirms once again that he is both completely demented — the fake-crowd theory is less plausible than the notion NASA faked the moon landings — and totally unwilling to abide by the democratic rules of the road. It has become tedious to say so, but supporting his candidacy, even if you prefer his policies on taxes or regulation, in any way is deeply irresponsible.”
I have friends who announced that they are voting for Trump to save them from taxes. Deeply in debt, medical professionals, they want to pay less in taxes. We believe a large part of this is that they’re living the live style they think they deserve, even though they lack the means to support it. They despise Trump as a person, they claim, but they want the tax breaks his presidency might bring him. I think it’s sadly shallow and delusional logic to employ when so many other matters of government, freedom, and democracy are also at stake.
In her post, “Finally! A Reason to Smile!”, Jill Dennison shares another thoughtful Dan Rather article about the positive energy that seems to radiate from the Harris – Walz campaign. I’ve observed this several times, and, man, I just love it. I hope it can be sustained. It seems real, natural, authentic, and other words from a thesaurus.
Rather begins, “For the past nine years Americans have been subjected to a political reality suffused with anger and acrimony. Ever since Donald Trump entered the political arena, he has been in fighting mode. His anger is ever present. For many of us, it’s also incredibly tiring. Almost a decade on, the act is getting — like Trump — a little old and a lot stale. And if it was possible, this time around the former president is angrier than before. His temperament has hung over our nation like a persistent dark cloud.“
Yes, that anger, that constant assault on everyone and anything that is not unflinchingly PRO-TRUMP and serving his ego to make him feel better about himself sickens me. I reached a point at least a year ago when I did not want to hear Trump’s voice, see his face, or endure more of his lies and outright bullshit. The Harris – Walz is one hundred eighty degrees from Trump. I sincerely believe their approach is the change the nation desperately needs.
The political situation is shifting, in my opinion. That doesn’t mean that Vice President Kamala Harris will win. It does mean I’m hopeful. As we’ve all witnessed and Charles Sykes is warning, even if Trump loses the election, he will not go with dignity and grace. He’ll go down like a spoiled child screaming about a toy being taken away from him. As he did in 2021, he will try to mobilize his base to overturn the results. He will scream for Republican politicians to challenge the results. He will demand that his right-wing buddies at the Supreme Court intervene and declare him the winner. He will encourage discord and chaos with a bellowing, belligerent voice, lying to make it seem like he speaks the truth.
Because, as it’s been shown over the last eight years, that is the character of Donald J. Trump, former President of the United States, and now a convicted felon.
Vote Blue.
First, I had this dream about sharing my apple pie with a young woman. As she was eating my crust, my wife came along. I went off to talk to her.
My wife and I ended up in what seemed to be a living room. Other family members were vaguely int the area. But my wife came to me and said, “I want you to look at my colors and tell me what you see.”
And I was all, “Huuuhhh?”
Other than being Caucasian as my wife, this dream wife didn’t look at all like RL wife, even though she’d started out as RL wife. Her hair was darker, heavier, and longer, and she had this pale, long, face with bright red lippy.
Second, she was dressed like a goth.
Third, she was holding up some kind of panel in front of her.
I thought the panel was a mirror at first. Then I saw that it reflected with nothing but swirled with images that reminded me of melting steel. I was trying to answer my wife’s request to tell you what colors I was seeing and describe her clothes, skin, and hair. She unleashed a heavy exasperated sigh at me and said, “Not those colors.”
Then I saw the mirror thingy was changing. Yellows and oranges were emerging, along with lesser spots of apple green and pine green. There was also a stretched out blotch of purple that was so dark, it was almost black.
I described these things to her, and then, somehow, I knew the colors had to do with her health, and told her, “I think you can change these colors. Just think of the color that you want to be, and that’ll happen.”
She was doubtful but almost immediately, a soothing fair blue swept across the mirror.
Dream end.
I watched a crane fly in my house. You know them? Many people mistakenly call the mosquito eaters because they look like giant mosquitos.
Like many of them that I’ve observed inside, this one was banging against the wall, bouncing off and flying back into it.
I thought, what a life. What a way to spent your time.
Then I realized how many people are like that crane fly, doing the same thing over and over again, never learning, never changing.
I had a cavalcade of dreams last night. One stood out more strongly than the rest. I was in the military for over twenty years. Not infrequently, I find myself in the military again in dreams. It was so again last night.
In this one, I’d been selected for a new position. I was an E7 master sergeant, which is what I retired as. My predecessor, training me, was an E9 chief master sergeant. He was telling me that this position was a catapult to promotion if I do it right, and he thought I’d do it right. Hearing all that pleased me.
Then he gave me a black attaché case. “You’ll always be carrying this,” he said. “You are now the Russian nuke guy. That’s what everyone will start calling you.”
I’d had some idea of what I’d be stepping into even though it’d been a pretty close-hold process. They’d checked my security clearance and records, noted that I’d been on the Personnel Reliability Program because I’d controlled nukes. My top-secret clearance with all the tags of SI, SCI, TK and TQ that came with being associated with a covert intelligence program pleased them, too. Now I got why.
The Chief was explaining that I would be regularly briefed about anything and everything associated with Russia’s nuclear weapons. Locations, capabilities, changes, updates, whatever. Everything from personnel, process, and equipment. I’d be told everything, constantly. The idea was that I would be the national command authority’s primary go-to if any questions about Russia’s nukes came up.
Then he began taking me around offices, introducing me as ‘the new Russian nuke guy’, explaining that I was replacing him. Everyone shook my hand and welcomed me.
The dream ended while I was still in that process.
I have no idea what it all means but I found it weirdly reassuring, because I’d been selected. I was needed. That kind of thing feels validating, you know?
Mood: Coffeebunctious
Good morning, good day, good afternoon, and good evening. Today is Tuesday, July 16, 2024. It’s now 81 F in Ashland, cloudy, a bit humid, stiff and dull with heat. Our high will be 99 F. Clouds like pleasure craft in the sea have come to the harbor of our sky.
We were coming back from running errands yesterday when the sky darkened. A large, swollen cloud mass blocked the sun, bringing up a wind. Rain veils hovered over the southern mountains’ trees. Could we get rain? my wife and I wondered.
Back home, we questioned Alexa. She assured us that rain wasn’t happening.
Then thunder steamrolled our street. Huh. A few minutes later came a lightning streak. More thunder. The power flickered and danced. Then soft rain pelted the hot ground, summoning petrichor from its depths. The temperature flew from the mid 90s to 86 F. Doors and windows were opened as the thin, light rain drizzled over us like light frosting and left. Thunder continued for another thirty minutes but that was the only band member there as lightning and precipitation hustled on. The temperature recovered to hit 90 but the evening cooled fast. The night was pleasantly chill, and a deep slumber was enjoyed.
One of the things that come with lightning in the west is worry about it striking the ground and igniting fires. Yes, that happened, quite a bit. Many were immediately found and outed. A few are still out there, watched and prioritized to be addressed by the proper government agencies.
The Neurons are feeding One Republic with “Counting Stars” from 2013 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark steamed). It was the line, “Lately, I’ve been, I’ve been losing sleep, dreaming about the things we could be,” which hooked The Neurons. I don’t blame them; I like the line as well. Then I sort of hooked onto later line myself: “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive.” As a person living with hypertension and medicating for it and dealing with edema, I make strenuous efforts to avoid sodium. My bod and sodium don’t get along and the less little bit each day triggers swelling and exasperation. Ah, life gives us each a unique burden to carry, unless you’re some kind of strangely fortunate one like TFG. It’s a uplifting song for me, nice beat, with some stirring lyrics aptly delivered.
Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I have been sharing a pleasant morning. Hope you’ve been doing the same. Here’s the music video. Off we go. Cheers
Sometimes, I come across something on the net that makes me pause and address my screen. “I’m gonna read this later,” I say. What my brain is telling me when those words leave my mouth is that I need more time and coffee to address whatever it is I’m facing on that screen. “I’m gonna need more time and coffee.”
The words I live by.
Michael Seidel, writer 