Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
This is from the ‘maybe-it’s-just-me’ book of thoughts.
When I read about the growing Wolf Fire in southern California, I immediately thought that PINO Trump’s response will be: “Let them burn.”
Which I think is totally wrong and an abhorrent way for the President of the United States to think. But it’s completely in line with the policies and behavior of the TACO Regime of the Disunited States of Chaos.
Trump’s golf club is Nero’s fiddle.
Welcome to another day in the Disunited States of Chaos, a nation formerly known as the United States of America. I mean, come on; suddenly the Roberts Court is making rulings that will break up the uniform understanding and application of the law. The Roberts Court has consistently ruled in favor of Trump, overturning Federal and Circuit Court rulings based on precedence and previous SCOTUS rulings. Like many things in TACO’s MAGALand, history is being pushed out the door in favor of right-wing ideology.
The DSC, as we’re now informally called in many mouths, can’t be anything but disunited and chaotic. Chaos pleases the Bully-in-Chief, PINO TACO. “Tariffs,” he shouts with a pen. “Wait, let’s put ’em on hold. No, we’ll put some of ’em on hold. We’re raise some tariffs on some nations, depending upon what colors are in their flags, but only on days of the week with an n on them, on alternating even days of the month, unless it’s a strawberry moon.”
Whenever something goes wrong for PINO TACO, he engages in swift non-sensical denunciation of shadow states, democrats — sorry, I mean LIBERAL SCUM — or SLEEPY BIDEN. “So much of this is SLEEPY JOE BIDEN’s fault because he didn’t beat me after I won the election in 2020 FAIR and SQUARE as ANYONE on the dark side of the moon will tell you.”
Part of the toxic agenda PINO TACO follows is whitewashing history, erasing contributions by anyone who isn’t as WHITE, HETEROSEXUAL, and RELIGIOUS AS HIM, and we all know that this person wholly follows and EMBRACES the Bible because he’s held it in his hand and it didn’t catch fire. But it was a Trump branded Bible, wasn’t it? Which, given TACO’s low reading abilities and skills and propensity for scamming customer, probably means his TRUMP BIBLE was probably a coloring book and not the supposed word of the White, Rich God which MAGALand embraces.
TACO’s “One, Big, Beautiful Bill” now being debated in the Senate has been ripped apart as a giveaway to the richest of the rich while shredding Medicare. He’s attacking our nation’s education system and the nation’s universities and colleges. Analysis shows the results of his attacks on the established pillars of our nation will be harshest on MAGALand’s heart, rural areas and red states who solidly voted for TACO. Yet, torching his followers is what PINO TACO gleefully presses the Greedy Ol’ Trump Party to do. It’s almost like he hates them for being stupid and enabling him. In parallel, TACO sues news outlets and which publishes information contrary to his latest declarations, often also threatening to pull their license. He reacts most virulently when the news outlet publishes TRUTH backed with FACTS. PINO TACO reacts to TRUTH and FACTS like a vampire encountering garlic.
Topping off his chaos crazed course, PINO TACO has ordered plans to sell off public lands and clawed away the proections that keep our water, air, and land from being freely polluted. He’s threatening to withhold Federal funds from states and cities led by Democrats unless they acquiesce to what PINO TACO says, all while saying he wants to return power to the states. The knob on his bullshit machine goes to eleven gazillion, far above other machines, which only go to ten.
Yet, this stomach-churning stew of denial, slander, threats, misinformation, and chaos is PINO TACO’s plan to make the DSC a stronger, more prosperous, and successful nation. Republican voters put this lunatic into power. If only they’d rememember what the GOP party founder, Abraham Lincoln told them: “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
Ironically, that’s a phrase from the Bible. Mark 3:25. So you would think that everyone embracing the Bible as the mythilogical foundational guiding document for the nation would not embrace a man preaching hatred and disunity.
But then, from what we’ve seen in MAGALand, history, knowledge, and thinking mean very little.
If my grip on reality is sure and we’re sharing the same reality, today is Satyrda, June 28, 2025. A strong sun lords over us with a hot hand. Mid 80s to upper 80s is the sun’s upper reach for us. Funny, but Mid 80s to upper 80s was what I remember as a new house price range in South Carolina in the early 80s when we lived there during a military assignment.
Upon scouring the news for lowlights yesterday and cringing through the Roberts Court rulings, The Neurons told me, “That’s it. We’re out of here.” To where, I asked the squirrelly gray beasts. “Kathmandu,” they replied. To reinforce their notion, they sprang the Bob Seger song on the morning mentl music stream. So here we go with the fifty year old song, “Katmandu”.
Seger related that the song was born out of frustration and exasperation, so it’s wholly fitting for this era for many of us. At least, in theory. The Neurons were speaking out of my disappointment with my country, the United States. I love it and don’t plan to move away, but the current political atmo leaves me panting for some friggin’ other place, at least until TACO madness has subsided and we get back to being a democratic republic.
Time to rock and roll another summer day in the U.S.A. Hope you’re dealing, wherever we’re you’re at. Cheers
As I survey life in the United States from my home in 2025, it feels to me like we’ve gone from Nanny State to Bully State. Trump demonstrates his bully tendencies with everything that he does.
Along the way to becoming a bully nation, the Trump Regime is energetically dumping facts. Trump’s own regime’s Intel said Iran wasn’t near completing a nuclear weapon. Trump claimed that he knew better without offering any facts.
After the bombing, Trump said that the mission resulted in Iran’s nuclear capabilities being “obliterated.” The Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) assessment said that Iran’s program was probably only set back a few months. Trump insists, without evidence, we must believe him.
On June 20, a reporter asked Trump: “What intelligence do you have that Iran is building a nuclear weapon? Your Intelligence Community has said they have no evidence that they are at this point.” Trump responded, “Well then my Intelligence Community is wrong,” and he said that Gabbard was “wrong.”
You can see why doubt is blooming like flowers in the spring. The Trump Regime’s response to everything among its directors, press secretaries, and cabinet members is, hey, trust us. They really dislike questions and react with violent anger when questioned, especially when facts get involved. Yet, we have several parts of the government saying one thing while TACO insists its otherwise. We have metrics saying one thing while TACO and his trumpizens insist their alternative set of facts say differently.
Polls are showing, for now, that more U.S. citizens believe the United States is on the wrong track. We see more of the same in the latest consumer confidence index.
WASHINGTON (AP) — Americans’ view of the U.S. economy worsened in June, resuming a downward slide that had dragged consumer confidence to its lowest level since the COVID-19 pandemic five years ago.
The Conference Board said Tuesday that its consumer confidence index slid to 93 in June, down 5.4 points from 98.4 last month, which represented a brief uptick.
Of course, as a group, the U.S. electorate is a jelly-filled crumbly invertebrate. Many critics will say of this group and my gross generalization, there are so many issues, the issues fracture us. Yes, and that’s normal in any democracy. But shouldn’t history, truth, and facts mean more? As we’re frequently finding, truth and facts only matter to same when they slap people in the face like a used diaper via personal experience.
We see this especially demonstrated in the Immigration issue, as orchestrated by Killer Noem and her banditos. After teaching people to question authorities and question mask-wearing gunmen, we’re now supposed to just accept that it’s okay for ICE to disappear people? We used to fill milk cartons with people who went missing. Now, like a lying president and mass shootings, disappeared people is becoming a new American norm. Doesn’t matter if the disappeared are criminals; doesn’t matter if due process is followed. Who needs law and order in this growing lawless nation?
Remember when we used to say, “Innocent until proven guilty”?
Do you recall the days when “Everyone has their day in court”?
What about that old idea that, “If you’re not doing anything illegal, you don’t have anything to fear”?
Hey, that shit is gone. This is what happens when history, facts, and truth no longer matter. Little by little, day by day, decision by decision, act by act, truth, justice, and due process matter less and less.
And then a point is reached when nothing matters except the bully in charge.
Ashlandia remains in a stable weather pattern for today, June 27, 2025, Frida in our reality. Like yesterday, our highs will encroach on the mid 80s while we enjoy 62 F at the mo.
Ashlandia’s current problem are aggressive deer. This has been an off and on thing and doesn’t usually get as much press as other animals, like cougars and bears. The cougars haven’t been in the news much. The bears have just bee Yogi-ing trash cans. The deer, with new fawns being born, have declared war on dogs and people coming too close. Some of them are bold and forthright, imitating Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, insisting, “You shall not pass.” The dog-walking people, dog leashed, respond to the deer, “But I live there.” It’s a challenge. A city committee studied the issue in 2008 but no effective solutions were found. With four aggressive does finding the NextDoor spotlight in different city areas, it’s recycled into our awareness. That cycle itself is a product of drought; the deer were out of the area when we were parched and conserving water for more than a decade. Now that we’re water rich with thick greenery, the deer are enticed back into the area. Humans (with leashed dogs) and deer are getting acquainted anew.
A pause for silent reflection for Bill Moyer, journalist, press secretary, writer, 1934-2025. Watching him and reading his commentary and essays informed me and shaped my thinking.
Thinking that I wanted to break my current dark cycle, I asked The Neurons to please come up with some chill music for the morning mental music stream. They delivered Carlos Santana with Michelle Branch from 2002 and the “Game of Love”. Wikipedia provided some background to the song that I didn’t know.
The song had originally been recorded with New Radicals frontman Gregg Alexander, but album producer Clive Davis felt a female voice would maximize the song’s appeal and a recording of Santana performing “The Game of Love” with Tina Turner as vocalist was completed. When Turner declined to participate in making a video for the track, Davis recruited Macy Gray to record a replacement vocal. When Davis was not satisfied with that version, Michelle Branch was asked to record the song,[2][better source needed] with Branch’s rhythm guitar playing also added to the track. Branch said, “It was the first time for me to sing somebody else’s song. Usually I’m like: ‘Oh I want it this way’ and I’m in charge…I didn’t meet [Carlos Santana at the recording session], I didn’t know what was going on…It felt to me like wow it seems like there’s so much at stake, I’m going to go in there and just sing my heart out and just cross my fingers.”[3]
Coffee is arriving at my major internal waypoints. Time to rock up again. Hope you have a great one. Cheers
My phone was ringing and dinging with a plethora of text messages. I clicked on the app to see WTF was going on. My phone tried calling people. Sighing, I rolled out of bed. 6:48.
Sunshine was again championing the blue summer sky. 58 F now, it’d be 84 F later. A thin line of nascent white clouds trouble the sky blue from being as rich and pure as possible. I tried again to check messages but they wouldn’t come up on an app. My sister, though, corresponds with me on a separate app. Her summaries detailed an overnight firefight in The Mom Saga between Mom, her boyfriend, his family, and my family.
I exercised to engage my muscles and get blood moving in the right direction and consulted my Fitbit for the results. Fitbit hadn’t registered anything. Some scrolling revealed that my Fitbit was fritzing. WTF.
Thirstda, June 26, 2025, was not off to an inspiring launch. Maybe coffee and perusing the news would help. Meanwhile, I would reboot my Fitbit and phone. I mean by that, turn them on and off. That’s often modern technology’s rudimentary fixes: turn it off and back on. It failed this time, leaving me with some WTF mumbling to my caffeinating self. Almost in parallel, I went to the net via computer to search for help. Blank pages came up. Really, WTAF?
Finagling of computer settings were engaged. Results showed. Turning off the Fitbit and turning it on again a few times, I drank coffee and considered the failed results. With coffee in, brain neurons engaged in what was going on.
Hey, they said, did you notice that the time is going backwards on the Fitbit?
Whaaat? I answered. Yes. Each time I turned the FB off and on, the time it showed went further back.
The Neurons said, This has happened before.
I’d tried snyncing the Fitbit with the app. That failed. The app kept telling me that an update was available. But It also told me that the update was already installed.
Well, hold on, partner, The Neurons said. The app is probably hung.
Of course.
Bringing the app up, I worked a hard shutdown on the phone. Yep, that fixed all Fitbit problems.
Thank god for coffee.
Tethered to my computer and technological issues, The Neurons are huddling with songs about freedom. The morning’s hours have sprinted away. Solomon Burke ends up singing “None of Us Are Free” in the morning mental music stream. A line resonates with me: “If you don’t say its wrong, then you say it’s right.” Yep. That’s how I view those Trump voters who say, “I didn’t vote this. I don’t support it.” You spoke with your actions. “The truth is shining bright right before our eyes.”
On into the day I go. Hope you have a better one. Cheers
Daylight come and it’s time to get up. That was not always the case. A shift worker for over a dozen years, I was often driving home as the sun bite into the sky.
Not so today, Wenzda, June 25, 2025. Let’s run the Ashlandia summer day checklist: cool night; check. Blue sky; check. Bright sun; check. Temperature in the low 80s; well, that’s not usual. We generally reside in the 90s at this point but I enjoy the 80s more, when we’re talking temperatures in Fahrenheit. Today, the sun will rouse us from the 60 F where we now chill to the low to mid 80s.
The neighborhood is lazy with low passing vehicle noises and a number continuing a porch project. No trains or aircraft are heard today, and the birds are circumspect in their discussions. I’ve not read much news yet this AM and continue to dwell in a ‘wait-and-see’ spirit. That spirit has songs ’bout trouble circulating in the morning mental music stream. Coming into six months of TACO’s second presidency, many balls are in the air. We’re witnessing the GOTP sabotaging justice and the legal system, the education and healthcare systems, environment and the economy, doing so under the guise of progress while ignoring fact-loaded decades. Meanwhile, PINO TACO saber rattles like he’s an old battle hand and not the coddled man-child born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
The Neurons cultivated a broad selection of trouble songs for the old stream. From it, Buddy Guy’s take on trouble, “I Smell Trouble”, has assumed dominance.
Into the day we go. What happens next, nobody knows. Hope yours goes well. Cheers
Greetings from Ashlandia, where it is Twosda, June 24, 2025. I don’t know what it is in your part of the world. For that matter, maybe this is just my reality.
It’s bumping up against 60 F outside under a fine blue sky and an earnest sun. Today’s upper crust will top off in the upper 80s. Maybe we’ll see 90. Good summer weather in my mind, in my reality.
I don’t know about other parts of the world and reality, but my breath is being held in my reality. Trump was crowing about an Iran-Israel cease fire after the B2 bombing run. Everyone else was mum. Then Iran said, yes, there is a cease fire, after some further attacks. Now a tenuous cease-fire is in place. Will this be a Russia cease-fire, where it holds until one of them believes they have some military advantage and break it to attack? Time will tell.
Outside of war, we await the impact of the tariffs and trade wars as the northern hemisphere slides into summer. Rural communities are holding their breath to see what happens with Federal funding cuts to their hospitals and school systems. People who are aware of the One Big Beautiful Bill are waiting for news about cuts to Medicaid. Immigrants in all situations and of all colors except white are keeping their ears open for masked ICE raids. Farmers are studying their situations, watching the weather, and holding their breath as they see grants dry up and workers disappear. Then, we face heat waves in the U.S. and hurricane season. All wait to see how the decimated Trump FEMA responds when a major disaster takes out an area. Maybe, given Trump’s luck, such a storm won’t strike. Meanwhile, we hold our breath.
We also hold our breath against the idea that Trump will decide that using the military was fun and profitable, and will order attacks against others. Will the newly identified enemies be U.S. citizens exercising their First Amendment rights?
TACO loves issuing threats. His storm troops have been more arrogant about arresting Democrats who oppose him. That’s a nasty trend and has us all holding our breath.
Issues before the Roberts Court have us holding our breath. There are injunctions and judicial orders being issued and challenged and counter-challenged. I’m holding my breath to see how these roll out and if Trump and the Greedy Old Trump Party complies or flips the rulings the bird.
Today’s music comes out of the news. Another rock scene guitarist passed away. Guitarist and songwriter Mick Ralphs was part of Mott the Hoople and Bad Company. Mott the Hoople as a band name always encourages a grin on me. Reading of the news of Ralphs carried The Neurons back into the 1970s section of the gray vault. They dug out “All the Young Dudes”. Written by David Bowie, the song vibes with Ziggy Stardust nuances. So that has to be the theme music, a nod to a passing time and some interesting rock.
Got my coffee. Time to rock on. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 