Wenzdaz Theme Music

Hello World. We’ve stepped into another Wenzda. This is November 26, 2025. Sunshine is warming Ashlandia. The clouds have stepped out. Fog has eased off. It’s 48 F with pretentions of reaching the mid 60s. The winter edge has filed away, and it feels like a pleasant autumn day out there.

The Neurons are offering a melody by The Offspring in the morning mental music stream. “The Kids Aren’t Alright” entered the stream as I scanned news, shook my head, and wondered, “What the hell is going on?” That plays right into the song’s lyrics.

What the hell is going on?
The cruelest dream, reality

The song was written in response to one of the band members seeing first hand how the ‘American Dream’ failed his home town. From Wikipedia.org:

Dexter Holland wrote the song after visiting his home town, Garden GroveCalifornia, and discovering many of his old acquaintances had faced serious problems. Holland stated: “The neighborhood looks like Happy Days, but it’s really Twin Peaks,” while guitarist Noodles said that the song subverted the idea that “you grow up hoping you and your friends have a bright future.”

How many of us have seen something like this transpire? You meet these little nephews, nieces, neighbor kids, etc., and think, “Gosh, what a bright and talented young person. So intelligent and precocious.” Parents rave about how great the child is. Then, a few years later, you hear about the child’s growing problems. Some of the problems are derived from school, some from family, even parents. And you think, “What happened?” in wistful wondering tones. Kind of like many do with this country, particularly under the Trump Regime. What happened? WTF is happening? Especially to the cratering of norms, institutions, and structures under Dizzy Donny’s guidance, and the twisted priorities he pursues to glorify and enrich himself. Dozy Donny is such a broken toy.

Call out and reminder, We Ain’t Buying It this weekend. Annie presents a solid reminder of the whereins and whyfors for us. It’s about money, power, responsibility, and living with choices. Check out Annie’s post, if you will.

THE “WE AIN’T BUYING IT” BOYCOTT THIS WEEKEND

~snip~

Big Business is a substantial target as we enter a Big Business Weekend. The coalition behind “We Ain’t Buying It” began with Black organizations that started boycotting Target when it dropped its DEI policy to appease Trump’s White Nationalist agenda. That boycott continues.

The opposition now includes many other supportive groups. As explained below, the emphasis is on Target, Home Depot, and Amazon, and the boycott is for the weekend that begins on Thanksgiving Day, moves to Black Friday, and concludes with CyberMonday.

You can read all the details in Indivisible’s description. As they say, it’s simple. It’s also a building block for the economic measures that will be necessary in the near future.

~snip~

On to coffee! The first sip is with the nose. Since grace and peace haven’t deigned to be here, I’ll just carry on widout ’em. Onward, into the world. Cheers

Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

The coffee shop is pretty damn full.

I’m in RoCo. It’s my new favorite coffee place, an old house converted to a business on the corner of 8th Avenue and East Main Street.

Every table is in use. Many regulars are in attendance. Like me, at a table, computer open. My eyes and ears are open even as I read, think, and type. Wonderful community and social energies swirl through the room like a strong, happy breeze. I love the noise and action, enjoy looking up at the faces, glancing at the fashion.

Most clients are, ahem, ‘my age’. They look like, ahem, boomers, like me. I’ll be seventy next year. I think I’m in the middle of the age spectrum here. Sure, there are so younger outliers. Teenagers who look like they’re wearing colorful fleece pajamas come in as pairs, order, take their stuff and leave. A few twenty-somethings, thirtyish, and fortyish folks are partaking of drink and food, chatting with others, reading, so forth. Hoka shoes are spotted on many, the shoes of my people. Columbia sportwear and Patagonia dominates. They’re the clothes of my tribe, but this is Oregon, where some of that stuff is produced, and where Columbia is headquartered, up north, west of Portland. Two children, about ten, are also present with an older woman. The children are on ice cream on this chilly, foggy, autumn day. The weather doesn’t daunt them from enjoying a cold but sweet treat.

The baristas take orders, prepare, and serve, all laughing and chatting as they do. Regulars come in and get greeted by name, including Sugar the dog, who waves their tail in happiness and await their standard treat.

Sunshine has burst through outside. Cold air storms me as the doors open and close. This is the United States, Oregon, Ashlandia, in 2025.

Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

“My name is Brenda,” I said, with a touch of happy humor.

My current coffee haunt is RoCo. The local Food Co-Op owns RoCo. Members of the co-op, we get a dividend back from the co-op at the year’s end. And guess what? All you need to do is give the RoCo barista your name and number. That’s what I was doing.

“Is Brenda your wife, Michael?” Kat asked.

“Yes.” I released a small scoff. “The funny thing is, she doesn’t go by Brenda. She uses a name that she made up a long time ago, so it always makes us laugh when we reveal our account name.”

Kat grinned through the entire tale. “I like that.”

It’s the small things which give us spirit, innit?

Fridaz Theme Music

Here comes the fog, do do do do do. Yes, ’tis a foggy Frida, November 21, 2025. Temp is hanging on to 33 F but we expect a rise to 52 F. Then we’ll be smokin’ with gas. Or something.

Political and economic news just seems to get worse. Trump and his regime continue to amaze with how low into the muck they’ll lower themselves. Trump is setting another deadline for Putin and Russia. I believe Putin will skip by that. Tell me if you think otherwise. Far as I can see, Putin continually games Trump because Trump has weakened the United States and its military alliances by his dumbfuckery. Putin knows that. He’ll be all smiley and sweet to Trump’s face but knows that Trump is a bully and a coward and shies away from real confrontation. Yet, Dizzy Donny, in his altered world, considers himself, brave, strong, powerful, smart. So trumplusional. That’s a level of delusion when the truth can’t be acknowledged even when it slams into your face and breaks your nose and cheekbones.

Today’s music comes from Sublime. It seems fog related. That’s my guess. My evidence is that I was looking out the window and remarking to myself about how the fog reduces visibility to the point that it feels and looks like we’re on an island. At around that point, The Neurons turned “Badfish” on in the morning mental music stream, starting with the line, “Won’t somebody get me off of this reef?”

Grace and peace might be out there, hidden in the fog. Or not. Not out there, I mean. Hope they come soon. Meanwhile, yes, coffee. Strong, black, as pure as it can be made with modern processes. Say no more. Here we go, once more into the breach. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Blue sky. I see blue sky and sunshine. It looks so different today, Wenzda, November 19, 2025, then it did on Twozda, November 18, 2025. It’s only 40 F out under that blue sky and sunshine. Fall’s full impact has arrived as we shift toward winter. Dead leaves are browning, curling up and resting everywhere, like sayin’, done. Gonna be up to 50 F, so wear shorts.

Today’s song is one by The Wallflowers called “The Difference”. The Neurons gifted it to me because I was walking through the house and thought, something looks different. Then I stopped and puzzled through WTH looks different. Nothing came to mind but as I walked off, The Neurons began “The Difference” in the morning mental music stream.

Off I go to another medical appointment, some ultrasound for this or that, or maybe the other. One of those NPO things. I’m hungry and thirsty and keep automatically reaching for things to put into my mouth, forcing me to chastise myself, don’t eat that! Don’t drink that. Put that down! Bad boy.

I’ve been thinking about the economic bubble we’re in. This is the AI bubble. Look how much investment is attached to it. It’d driving employment, production, and growth plans. Big thing about it that I can see is that companies like Amazon are salivating over the idea of hiring less people. The GOP, especially Trump, is drooling over this. I guess they’re thinking, let’s use AI to hire less people so we can build more things that less people can afford, thereby increasing the wealth gap yet more.

Of course, others think, we’ll use AI and its predictive and analytical processes to more precisely predict weather! Except the Trump Regime cratered many of the satellites used in weather forecasting. He’s gonna turn them over to Musk’s companies. It feels like a bad idea, like it goes against that proverb, don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Seems like as robotic manufacturing and AI management grows, less people will be working and more people will need assistance for things like food, medicine, and housing. As the GOP doesn’t want to give those things, it feels like we’ll then have greater homelessness, more sickness, and higher levels of deprivation and starving. But given that the GOP is erecting the means for the wealthy to live isolated and insulated from the masses, most of them won’t know. They don’t care but not knowing will help them sleep easier, and don’t we all want the wealthy to rest easy? Isn’t that why we cut them deals on their taxes and give them freebies, hmmm?

Sorry, the inner cynic broke free of his moorings and tossed around on the cynical sea. On to other things. May peace and grace find you, if you can afford it. Way it seems to be going, only those who can afford it will know peace and grace. At least I have coffee. Thank dog Trump lowered the tariffs that he raised on it, right? Of course, that doesn’t offset all the other things driving up the costs of food and coffee, does it? But what do we know? I know; let’s build some AI so we can ask it what we need to do. Then we can ask AI what it thinks of tax cuts for the wealthy, tariffs on imported goods, using the military on your own citizens, separation of church and state, climate change, things like that. Man, it’s getting to look like a fugly future.

Wish I could sip some coffee and mutter to myself over this, grumble grumble. Have a better one. Cheers

Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

I thought EB was in love with me. She’s a very sweet small dog with wavy caramel and white fur. Her people say, “She’s a bit of every cattle dog you can think of.” I thought EB was in love with me because of the way she was staring up at me.

Her person said from beside me in the coffee shop, “I’m sorry, she has a staring problem.”

I laughed that off. What soon became apparent was that EB loves attention and people love to bestow it on her. Every other person going by stopped to pay an EB fee, loving on the small, sweet pup.

Then Sugar entered. Sugar is a ‘service dog’. Says so on her vest. She’s a coffee shop regular. The staff knows her and spoils her with treats.

Sugar and EB met nose to nose, tails going with enough propellor motion that take-off seemed imminent. After permitted to converse a bit, Sugar was led across the room with her people where she rested by a table.

Didn’t end there. Sugar and EB eyed one another across the floor with a quiet wistfulness, like teenagers longing to know one another. “Why are they keeping us apart?” their eyes asked.

Both eventually gave up, settling down to sleep under tables, part of the brisk and lively coffee shop scene.

Guess it was just another case of puppy love.

Twozdaz Theme Music

All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray outside my window, today, Twozda, November 18, 2025. It’s a bleak and dark look which does little to inspire the mind, body, or spirit to move. Our present temperature is 42 degrees F but it’s gonna surge to 45. Rain? Maybe, in the realm of a quarter inch or less.

Papi the orange floof dislikes this change of meteorological circumstance. He went out several times. Dissatisfied with his experiences, he’s sulking in the living room on his favorite chair, thinking of sleeping.

I ran two miles yesterday afternoon. Felt quite good after that, all lubed up and flexible, if you will. Supremely satisfying to having pieces working in rhythm with a thumping heart, heaving chest, and dribbles of sweat finding their chaotic paths down my skin. The warm shower afterward felt oh so good. With time’s passage, I’m now permitted to wash my incision sites, and gave them the first light cleaning they’ve had since the operation on Nov. 5.

The Neurons have provided me with “Stormy” by the Classics IV from 1968 as my morning mental music stream entertainment. I felt they offered this on Papi’s behalf, as The Neurons kept repeating, “Bring back that sunny days!” I’ve gone with the 1979 Santana cover.

Trump continues pursuing an altered reality which is only accessible by putting his head up his ass. He’s joined there by people who eagerly endorses his warped ideas on humanity, civilization, and society, such as the Heritage Foundation, purveyors of Project 2025. As Heather Cox Richardson explained, it’s all about having a world for the wealthy supported by the poor. Different rules apply for the wealthy. White men have major roles in keeping it organized and civilized. Ms Richardson tells us that we’ve gone through these before, with southern ‘gentlemen’ in the mid 1800s, and such business ‘leaders’ as Carnegie and Mellon, who seemed to have very low opinions of anyone who wasn’t wealthy and didn’t think those people worked hard enough. Sound familiar? You should read the whole thing.

Letters From An American

I don’t know if peace and grace are going to show when it’s so gloomy looking outside. I don’t really blame them, as today’s weather is not an inviting presence. I’ll make do with coffee again. Here we go, once more into the breach. Cheers

The Leaves Dream

I dreamed I was at Mom’s house. We were all younger, and this was all pre-Frank. Mom’s beau never showed in the dream. Lots of others did. All four sisters. Wife didn’t show. Many, many friends throughout the years came and went.

The first stage was a big party. Mom and my sisters were present for that. Then they left, having had to go away somewhere for a day or two. With them gone, the party got bigger and crazier. Heaps of food were being consumed, along with beer and wine. Music and laughter boomed. Then the party wound down. I began cleanup. One other, a generic skinny old gray white guy, was there helping. Then he disappeared. As I walked around, cleaning, where the heck did he go? Then I found him, asleep in a chair that was flipped over. Well, let him slept, I thought.

Meanwhile, so many leaves were present. The levels astonished me. Drifts and piles of leaves were everywhere in the house. A gray and white kitten went through them, playing, then pranced outside through the open back door. I followed, peeking out to ensure it was a safe place for a kitten. It was a fenced yard with pea rock at the bottom. Tiered with cinder blocks, plants were in neat, ordered arrangements. I identified green peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, and realized, this is my sister’s garden. I then left the door open for the kitten to go in and out and resumed cleaning, taking a vacuum cleaner hose around to suck up leaves.

My friend woke up and apologized for falling asleep, explaining, “It was just a long day.” He began helping. At that point, Mom and my sisters arrived back home. There were still leaves to clean but they were hungry. I looked for leftovers to give them. My older sister asked for coffee, and I began making a bot. Mom asked if I’d checked the mail, which I admit, was the furthest thing from my mind, and then continued asking people, did anyone get the mail?

That’s where the dream ended.

In the waking aftermath, the dream amused me more than anything. I thought it about life and change, and considered it very heavy-handed of my Dream Neurons to present so many leaves, thinking they represented the days gone by and the leaves of change.

Satyrdaz Theme Music

It’s the darkest of times, it’s the dumbest of times, it’s Trumpiest of times. Borrowed from Mock Paper Scissors.

Bold sunshine shoots the windows today, Satyrda, November 15, 2025. 52 F now, the other numbers are 65 and 42 F for the day’s highs and low. Sunshine and blue are dominating like an NFL team playing a high school JV team. Lovely to rest my eyes on the panorama and what remains of the colorful leaves after the wind tore through over the last several days.

I was walking yesterday evening. Sidewalks and paths are wealthy with discarded leaves. I kicked ’em up as I passed through them like I was six years old. I always enjoy making that ruckus among the leaves. Meanwhile, I deliberately summoned the music to “New York State of Mind” by Billy Joel. My lyrics were adjusted to “Ashlandia State of Mind” and our local streets, activities, and centers of interest. After singing it last night and gazing out on this morning’s view, The Neurons resurrected the song for my morning mental music stream.

The Trump Regime has made statements about demanding all SNAP recipients re-enroll. They believe the debunked myths that SNAP is corruption riddled. 42,000,000 are receiving SNAP. The huge effort to re-enroll them all will fall on the states and the recipients. Recipients who are often children, working poor, struggling lower middle class, elderly and disabled. If this doesn’t scream, THE CRUELTY IS THE POINT, what does?

With the Trump Epstein Shutdown ended after a record run, attention is swinging hard to the Epstein files and Trump’s place among their annals. Dizzy Donny is displaying deeply demented demeanor. Many like me speculate that he knows the terrible things the files will reveal. Here’s hoping for the best.

BTW, that idea about 50-year mortgages is crackers. Won’t do much for helping affordability. Folks still need down payments, need the income for paying property taxes and insurance, and insurance is going higher and higher in many regions due to more extreme weather — but please, let us not say anything about climate change. Heaven forfend the TACO Regime even thinks about doing anything about that. See, with mega AI centers being planned and built, pollution will go yet higher. Demands on water will go yet higher. As will demands on electricity, causing the price of everything to increase, crushing affordability, but never mind all that. Realizing those things and planning to address those things takes something other than greed, lying, and cruelty, and that’s all the Trump Regime has.

The day is calling and the coffee is singing. My hope remains that peace and grace lift themselves up with a mighty shake and come around to yours and mine. Here we go again. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

It’s Thirstda! I’m glad about it because The Neurons kept telling me that yesterday was Thirstda. I accused them of being out of sync and reality deniers, much like Trump. Man, they fumed with indignation after that, sputtering about how wrong it was for me to compare them to TACO, who is deeply and grossly embedded in an alternate reality, in The Neurons’ opinions. “We’re not like that,” they kept telling me until I finally acquiesced and gave a half-warm fake apology about being sorry for comparing them to Trump. That mostly shut them up but they still sulked for a while.

Today’s numbers are 11/13/2025 and 60/64/56 for month/date/year and current/high/low temperatures in F. Wind is busy teasing the poor trees and leaves into mad waving and racing. It’s the kind of wind that has me checking to ensure nothing has blown away. Papi came in after I’d spotted him huddled hard against something, head down. Soon as I opened that door, he bolted in. Then he gave an angry look back, like he was swearing vengeance against the wind, and launched himself into a hard house gallop. Besides the wind, it’s sunny now, but it did rain and more rain is s’posed to be dropping, even if it doesn’t look it now.

I know I mentioned it before but I will reiterate, having my gallbladder removed has left me feeling amazingly better. I sleep better, have more mental and physical energy, with better focus. I feel less angry, anxious, and emotional, and less troubled and more confident about the future. I’m wary about what I eat as I slowly re-engage a wider range of offerings while keeping the fat down, and monitor my body’s response. I do miss being able to fully exercise. While I’m jogging, I’m restricted from lifting more than 20 pounds. Pushups and planks and wallsits are all out for now.

I had two terrific dreams last night that I recall. Both had me laughing as I recalled them. As I finished working over the dreams, I want into thinking and writing my novel in my head and ‘lo, the muses came and gave the writing neurons some sweet little details to insert. It’s great when things like that work out. I’m eager to get into it later today.

Today’s music is “Blind Spot” by Bruce Springsteen.

I’m not certain why The Neurons have “Blind Spot” in the morning mental music stream. The clue might be in that chorus. “Everybody’s got a blind spot that brings them down, everybody’s got a blind spot they can’t get around.” Was I thinking of blind spots? I don’t know. It appears that the reason behind The Neuron’s song choice is…ahem…hidden in a blind spot.

You saw that coming, didn’t you?

Well, the Trump Epstein Shutdown of 2025 set a record but ended. Now we’ll see what happens with the Epstein files. There have already been some interesting emails leaked up about Trump’s involvement. May the leaks become a flood.

Hope peace and grace find us soon. Meanwhile, coffee is giving a pep talk to The Neurons about the need to be alert, active, and optimistic. Here we go, once again. Rock on. Cheers

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