Tag: cycles

Munda’s Theme Music

We’ve made it through another cycle, and we’re set up to repeat it again. I mean the week, of course. Today is May 26, 2025. The month is singing its last notes. Many associate Memorial Day in the U.S. with the beginning of summer. I’m a traditionalist, though, and recognize summer’s start with the June solstice, as we’re north of the equator. The weather doesn’t care what we’re calling the season; it’s gonna do as it wants. Today, it looks like it wants more cloudiness baking with some sunshine. 60 F now, we’re be roaming the seventies through the late afternoon.

My bright mood has expired. Darkness has soldiered in. That’s my standard cycle. I just need deep breaths and patience to survive it, and then more normal moods will rotate in, and it’ll be up and down again for a while. That’s me.

In other cycle news, Jamelle Bouie’s opinion piece of May 24, 2025, recounted the Conservative routine: the promise of tax cuts which will strengthen the economy.

“With each new Republican administration, it is the same promise. With each round of tax cuts, it is the same result: vast benefits for the wealthiest Americans and a pittance for everyone else. There is little growth but widening inequality and an even starker gap between the haves and have-nots.“

Reagan promised tax cuts in 1981. Bush Senior was forced into tax increases to address the damage done by Reagan’s cuts. Dubya promised tax cuts, and then Trump in 2017, and now Trump in 2025. Each time those cuts came, the economy did not do better. It took Democrats in charge to clean up the economic mess and get the economy on track again. And here we go again. Will it work this time when it failed every other effort? Time will tell.

But as Mr. Bouie writes of this latest effort:

We are now looking at another round of Republican tax cuts. Yet again the claim is that this will benefit most Americans. “The next phase of our plan to deliver the greatest economy in history is for this Congress to pass tax cuts for everybody,” Trump said in his March 4 address to Congress. But as Paul Krugman points out in his Substack newsletter, this latest package is both a shameless giveaway to the rich and a ruinous cut to safety net programs for lower-income and working Americans.

Today’s song comes from reading about the viral corruption spreading under the Trump Regime. Out of that GRRRRRRRRRR news review, The Neurons dropped “Perry Mason” by Ozzy into the morning mental music stream. Perry Mason is a fictitious lawyer of high repute. He saved the innocent and delivered the guilty for a serving of justice. He came onto the scene in a series of Erle Stanley Gardner novels in the 1930s and joined the pop culture as a television show starring Raymond Burr in the 1950s and 1960s. Yes, I know of the later series. Anyway… Ozzy Osbourne put some words to music by guitarist Zakk Wylde and keyboard player John Sinclair. The song’s chorus goes,

Who can we get on the case?
We need Perry Mason
Someone to put you in place
Calling Perry Mason again
Again

h/t Genius.com

Yep, we need Perry Mason…again…to ferret out all the illegal antics pushed by the Trump Regime and get us some justice.

Rock on into the new week. Coffee is putting me on its shoulders one more time. Here we go. Happy Memorial Day to my fellow Americans. Cheers

1

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Greetings, life forms. I include the undead who might be reading this, too. And whatever other ethereal forms are browsing the net — or browsing history in some future state.

Anyway, today is Wednesday, September 15, 2021. Sunshine entered the valley at 6:51 AM. We expect it to fade away at 7:21 PM. Our high temperature will be in the low eighties. Our air is serviceable. Light traces of smoke and haze hang along the mountains’ tree lines but the AQI sits at 70, putting us in the Moderate (yellow) range. It’s a continued improvement that we’re happy to have.

In news, it was great to see that the California recall effort fizzled. Don’t live there but I used to. I live in Oregon, in fact, just a few miles north of the California – Oregon border. Have friends in California and still follow their politics. I didn’t want Larry Elder as governor of anywhere. He spouts reactionary garbage. The disaster it would have been were he to have replaced Newsom is nauseating to contemplate.

Most importantly, the loss throttles the precedence and encouragement it would create for Republicans to backdoor the system. Naturally, upon hearing that he was going to lose, that Newsom would not be recalled, Elder immediately cried, “Cheat!” It’s the GOP way of this century. It’s a good thing that they’re doing it. They’re raising an alarm for something that isn’t there. As it’s proven again and again that no fire is behind the smoke only they see, rational individuals will walk away from them and tune them out.

My night was heavy with dreams. It’s a monthly cycle. My mood goes up and down each month. Get quite dark for a day or two. Want nothing to do with the world, writing, cats, or myself in those hours. Being aware of it helps. cope. I just endure and ensure I don’t do anything stupid during the darkness.

Anyway as part of the peak, versus being in the trough, my mind is busy with dreams. After waking up and thinking them over doing all my morning rituals, I settled with my coffee. About then, a 1991 Yes song percolated into the morning music stream. “Life Me Up” was the group’s last hit, as far as I know. Not that I track these things but others do, and I read that. Not my favorite Yes song (hah – funny that, if you know their albums) but no doubt it’s a Yes song.

Stay positive, test negative, stay in the groove, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music. Time for more coffee, I believe. Cheers

0

Sunday’s Theme Music

A quiet day for me, providing an interlude for reflection. After watching the news, contemplating history and contrasting them with current events, Neil Young’s song, “Old Man” (1972).

Old man look at my life,
I’m a lot like you were.
Old man look at my life,
I’m a lot like you were.

Old man look at my life,
Twenty four
and there’s so much more
Live alone in a paradise
That makes me think of two.

Love lost, such a cost,
Give me things
that don’t get lost.
Like a coin that won’t get tossed
Rolling home to you.

Old man take a look at my life
I’m a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that’s true.

Lullabies, look in your eyes,
Run around the same old town.
Doesn’t mean that much to me
To mean that much to you.

I’ve been first and last
Look at how the time goes past.
But I’m all alone at last.
Rolling home to you.

h/t to AZLyrics.com

I picked this acoustic version for its simplicity, and because Young is young in it, and alone, unvarnished, on the stage with his guitar.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=An2a1_Do_fc
0

Saturday’s Theme Music

My monthly cycle is on the upswing. Love it when that happens. Much better than the dark troughs.

Dark days come once a month. I call it monthly but, you know, it’s a few days shorter than that, just a time when my optimism surrenders to my pessimism, and discouragement bludgeons encouragement into despair. During the worse of them, I’m in an echo chamber asking myself, “What’s the use? Is there a point to any of this crap?”

But today, it’s a triple high. Discouragement runs away, pessimism flees, and optimism and hope take office on high, declaring, “Everything is going GREAT.”

In honor of this monthly mini-holiday, Peter Gabriel’s 1987 song, “Big Time”, has entered the stream.
Big Time, I’m on my way I’m making it, big time, Huh!
Big time, I’ve got to make it show yeah, big time
Big time, so much larger than life
Big time, I’m gonna watch it growing, big time
Big time, my car is getting bigger Big time, my house is getting bigger
Big time, my eyes are getting bigger
and my mouth
Big time, my belly’s getting bigger
Big time, and my bank account
Big time, look at my circumstance
Big time, and the bulge in my big big big big big big big big big big big big big big big, hi there

h/t to AZLyrics.com

 

0

Conversations with Self

Perfect, I think, 71 degrees F in the house, perfect, I think, with a cool breeze laden with soft tinctures of damp grasses sweep in through the office window, an unexpected delivery. Outside, the sun is flexing its blaze, awing the blue sky. Outside promises heat, the kind dreamed of during frigid winters.

My perfection doesn’t align with my wife’s idea of perfection. When 78 degrees inflamed the office and the windows were closed against the 92 degree heat outside, my wife declared her pleasure with the heat. “I’d rather be too hot than too cold.”

Yes, all of it is a spectrum, I speak to myself. Nothing seems absolute. Everything in our existence seems to be on a spectrum. I toy with the spectrum of spectrums that merge and blend into a spectrum of reality and existence.

Is truth somewhere on a spectrum? No, but our understanding of truth exists on a spectrum, the understanding, interpretation and application of truth and facts through spectrums.

Spectrums and cycles. I travel cycles of darkness and light, balancing along spectrums of happiness. Spectrums of determination and desire. Spectrums of energy and willpower. Nothing is black and white for me and my spectrums. Emotions, dream, urges and frustrations pedaling with frenzy, I cycle through my spectrums.

I’m going through a cycle of thinking that propels me toward optimism, joy and happiness on my spectrum. Are joy and happiness the same, I question, and cast a net to define the differences. Imagination intrudes. Story concepts take seed and bloom. I want to be done with what I’m writing so I can write more, explore these other ideas, discover these characters and their situations, lay out their story. I want to finish painting the guest room and the bathrooms’ trim so I can work on the yard, cut the grass, pull weeds, trim plants and bushes. I want to walk a long distance in the hot sun and free the sweat from my body. I want to load up junk, and clean the closets and drawers, and take items to the Goodwill, and I want to sit somewhere by an ocean’s side, smelling its breeze, hearing those waves, sipping a beer, or wine, alone or with others.

Life is good, in this spectrum’s neighborhood. And then, I tell myself, go edit. Go proofread. Go write. And I close the window, because the breeze is gone.

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑