Frida’s Wandering Political Thoughts

We have violence escalating in the Middle East and the United States as the Ukraine-Russia War burns on. This is the forefront. In the momentary background are tariffs and trade wars, climate change and natural disasters like wildfires. Always thinking ahead *cough cough, yes, that’s very thick snark*, a Florida right wing sheriff is threatening to kill protestors, Gov. DeSantis in Florida beams and tells drivers that it’s okay to hit protestors with their cars (anyone remember Charlottesville, VA?), Gov. Abott in Texas is calling out the National Guard, and so is Gov. Kehoe in Missouri. That First Amendment and its right to assemble really terrifies the right wing. Which, I guess we can infer means that We the People terrify them.

The current situation isn’t triggering joy and optimism in me. I could play whatif games about Trump, Putin, and Netanyahu being more restrained and diplomatic. These games are as pointless as wishes Kamela Harris won the election in 2024. Or Hillary won in 2016. Or Gore in 2000. Or that spineless Republicans like Mitch McConnell stood up, did his job, and impeached Trump in the latter’s first term. Or the Roberts Supreme Court didn’t behave like an overindulgent absent father and ruled to appease the right wing. We’re beyond those things mattering, except the ripples are still going.

That’s the thing. I, we, gotta ride the ripples. Do what I can, what we can, to mitigate their impact. Survive and help others do the same. And seize the opportunity to help change the world — again — when the chance comes.

Stand up this weekend. Stay calm. De-escalate violence but stand for your principles. Be reasonable in the face of absurdity. It can be painful. It will take courage and strength. It can be done.

No kings. No fascism. Not in the United States of America. Not now. Not ever.

Munda’s Theme Music

We’re rolling through January now, picking up steam for 2025. It’s the 27 and Munda. Blue skies and sunshine are storming our valley. Air temp resides at 36 F and the stagnant air has settled back in. High today will check out at 52 F, which is what we saw yesterday. No snow yet in the winter of 2024-2025 in Ashlandia. No snow yet in 2025.

Tech stocks tumbled. ‘It’ — they — are worried about China’s AI advances, but Trump occupies the Oval Office, so it’s his fault, isn’t it? Sure is. Same thinkin’ they threw at President Biden must be adhered to here and now, brothers and sisters. Trump has taken over and before his first month in office, look at how the tech industry is reacting. Tsk, tsk. Terrible, terrible, Taken a great market and turned it into trash.

The California wildfire situation has gotten worse since Trump has taken over, with new fires exploding into new areas. Why everything is burning up under Trump’s guidance. This must be the worst administration ever, the actual absolute worse. He’s done nothing to put them out. What an abysmal record on fire fighting and disasters. And it’s having such a devastating impact on multiple industries, which will translate to unemployment and inflation both rising while the insurance industry bleeds and the economy tanks. What a terrible person he is. Absolute worst person for the job, and it’s already showing in all of these areas.

The Neurons are piping the Killers into the morning mental music stream. Today’s offering is “All These Things that I have Done” from 2004. This is directly related to the U.S. political situation as Trump and the GOTP trample the Constitution and everything it stood for while attempting to drag us back into the 1800s. The song features lyrics which keep repeating, “If you can, hold on, if you can, hold on, hold on.” My word for 2025 is courage, and my motto, “If you can, hold on.”

Coffee and I re-assessed our positions and have concluded a mutual aid agreement that lets me brew and drink. So begins another day. Here’s the music. Hope you watch and listen. Cheers

Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Maya Angelou wrote On the Pulse of Morning for President Bill Clinton’s 1993 inauguration and read it during the ceremonies. I particularly like several specific lines from the poem.

Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands,
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For a new beginning.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

Yes, “Do not be wedded forever to fear, yoked enternally to brutishness.”

h/t to Poets.org.

Sometimes we need to look back to look forward. Thank you, Maya Angelou.

Wezda’s Theme Music

Mood: hotimeinthehouse

Today’s theme music comes fresh out of The Neuron mill. Walking through the house this morning as dawn asserted its presence, the heat was running. The furnace temp was set on 68 F but the air out of the vents felt blazingly hot on my skin. My SO and I went through our usual comedy skit of me commenting on the hot air and my wife asserting, “Warm at last.”

The Neurons almost instantly fired up “Summer in the City” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark toasted). The 1966 Lovin’ Spoonful song is a paean to a city’s day heat and its impact, and then how life burst forth at night, after the heat has retreated. A perfect song for Wezda, January 15, 2025 in Ashlandia, where it’s 28 F at my place. The sun is shining and the frosty valley is tranquil under a deep blue sky. There’s a freezing fog warning out for us. They said it will expire in about seventy-five minutes. Today’s high will supposedly be 59 F. Supposedly couches the prediction for me because we didn’t get anywhere close to our supposed high yesterday.

There I go, grousing again. Grousing is just not a word that I hear much these days. It was Mom and Dad’s favorite. Both of them would use it regularly in conversations, as in, “Your Aunt Jean was grousing about her children again today.”

After thinking about it part of yesterday, I inserted it into several conversations. Turned out to be a conversation stopper. Fer instance, my wife had gone to a “girls’ night” at a friend’s house. These girls are all in their upper sixties and beyond. The original intention had been to do the do at night but they all protested, “No, I can’t drive in the dark.” So girls’ night was moved to the early afternoon.

When my wife got back, I asked, “Do anyone at girls’ night grouse about anything?”

She stopped and stared at me. “Grouse?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t heard that in years.”

I nodded. “Me, neither. I thought I’d bring it back.”

Alright, coffee and I have signed another cooperative agreement. I have a doctor’s appointment to hit. Then it’s grocery shopping.

Be strong and fly your flag high. Hope your day is going well, wherever you are, whatever the weather. Hope that the wars end soon. That the right wing regains its senses and became less negative, reactionary, and hateful. Hope that the California wildfires are stopped with no more loss of life so they may begin rebuilding.

In other word, I hope. Remember, this year’s word is courage. Here’s the music video. It’s an interesting one to me, watching them perform this song sans any sort of cords, wires, amplifiers, or microphones. Cheers

Five Dreams, A Few Thoughts

Five dreams are remembered this morning. Takes a while to process them. I usually do this in bed, eyes closed, pulling out their sequences. What normally happens is that I have a dream and wake up with it in mind, process it, and return to sleep. Then I dream again and repeat the process. Later, I sit and freehand the dreams. Sometimes, when the dreams become larger, more involved and remembered, I type them up. And sometimes I post that result, usually without any insights I acquired, just presenting the raw dream. In this instance, because there were five sharply remembered dreams, I just wanted to share intriguing aspects of two.

I was with my father. It was Christmas. His third wife was there, too. I’d brought twelve gifts meant for my cousins. Several of those cousins are dead. I knew that in the dream. When I showed Dad what I’d bought for who, I actually said, “Even though he died,” when I introduced their gifts. Dad laughed at that and I responded, “They’re dead but they still deserve a gift.”

Gifts included beer, pastries, pasta, and books. I explained to Dad when describing the gifts, showing them to him, why I selected each present. Dad seemed particularly surprised by the beer, which was a German Pilsner with a flippy top, which were common in Germany when I lived there.

What happened next is that I went off for a bit, returning to find that Dad gave away several of the presents to the people because he forgot buy them. So instead of a gift for my cousin, Jeff, for example, Dad gave it to his nephew, Jeff. That left me speechless. In Dad’s usual style, he laughed off my protests and explained that he just said it was from both of us so what difference does it make? The people received the gift, which is the intent of the gift being bought.

I didn’t fully buy into Dad’s position but decided yes, the person getting the gift was most important, so why be an asshole about it?

He later asked me if I had other gifts to give people, because he didn’t buy gifts for others but he thought he should receive a gift. I laughed at him, mocking his lack of preparation and planning, but took him to a white chest freezer and began pulling things out. He asked me why I put them into the freezer. I answered, “Ask your wife. She gets it.”

The other dream had a segment involving a vase. I was in a dim warehouse sort of building, metal, with high, dull lights. Items were stacked on shelves, creating a labyrinth, and lots of shadowy places.

White and tall, with flowers and dragons painted on it, the vase had several cutouts. I noticed the vase and remarked on its beauty. When I did that, one of vase’s cutouts yawned wider and issued a black cloud. I jumped back, pushing the others with me back to avoid it. We discussed, “What is that?” Several, including me, believed it to be poison. We wanted to get out of there fast but there was only one narrow path out. The vase was up on a shelf at head level along the path.

We needed to pass the vase to leave, we found, because we found every other way blocked. Two attempts were made to race past the vase but it moved each time, growing larger and growling at us. Finding a hammer, I attempted to attack it. The vase counter attacked, growling more and growing larger again, issuing more scary black gas. The vase’s cutouts now had teeth.

Someone said, “You have to get rid of that vase.”

“I know,” I answered. Swinging the hammer, I knocked the vase onto the floor. It rolled toward us in a rush. I hurdled it, but it was trapping others. I rushed the vase. It spun around me. Jumping back, I dropped the hammer. Teeth bared and roaring, the vase charged me. Dodging it, I pulled a shelf partially over, stopping it from getting me. I spotted an old black, portable television on a shelf. Grabbing the television, I lifted it over my head and slammed it down on the vase. The television and vase both broke. Enough of the television remained for me to hit it again with the television.

The vase pieces were trying to come back together. Someone threw the hammer to me. It bounced on the cement floor. I seized it and hit the larger pieces of the vase. The vase hissed out wisps of the black cloud. I started kicking its pieces around, shouting at the others to run past it and escape. After the last of them had gotten past, I picked up the largest piece of vase, threw it across the warehouse, turned and ran.

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