Monday’s Theme Music – Fears & Monsters

Ashland, southern Oregon — Monday, July 20, 2026.

Smoke lingered until about midnight. That kept the area heat sealed in. Overnight slowly dropped into the low seventies after a daytime high of 96 F at our house.

Less smoke here today. Tiny, scattered showers. Now 80, 91 is the expected high.

Our smoke is from several fires. Dominating the skies is the East Evans Creek Fire. From the reports we’re getting, this fire will continue for several more weeks.

My younger sister, Gina, continues preparing Mom’s home for a change of ownership. She began by trying to sell a few things. Then items were given to charity, thrift stores, or the scrap man. One young woman, though, came early and bought several things. Gina kept in touch with her, giving her more items as time went by. Gina reported that she gave the woman a vacuum cleaner yesterday.

The woman said, “You don’t know how it’s helped me with all that you’ve given me.”

Gina replied, “I hope you remember and can help someone in the future.”

“I will,” the woman replied.

More US troops have been killed in Trump’s war with Iran. Trump claimed the US won the war before — 32 times. He also claimed it was over as far back as March of 2026, less than a month after he started it. Here we are, though, 142 days later, still at war with Iran, and it seems to be escalating.

The war is part of Operation Epic BE VERY AFRAID, itself part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! On the one hand, Trump does things and then tries distracting us. Then, as that fails to distract us because we become inured to his lies, he pivots and tries to make us afraid. Then Trump claims only he can fix it.

For example, back when he was running for office in 2024, Trump was all about affordability.

Your Trump Quote(s) of the Day:

Anyone can do the research and see how Trump operates. In this instance — affordability — he blasted Democrats about affordability when running for office in 2024.

About 14, 15 months later, Trump declares affordability will be much better under him and Republicans.

But, as prices don’t go down, and even increase, Trump declares affordability is a hoax. Created by the ‘opposition’, of course.

Yet, he was the one running so hard on it back in 2024.

He’s essentially declaring that he ran on a hoax.

Sure, but his hoax was enough to dupe a sufficient number of people to vote for him.

Now, though — July, 2026 — fewer people are no longer buying Trump’s excuses.

Half of Americans struggle to afford groceries and gas, exclusive poll finds

Republicans Increasingly Say Finances Worse Under Trump

With plunging popularity and approval, Trump has accelerated fear tactics. Communists. Stolen elections. Iran with nukes.

And Trump’s war with Iran takes the biggest stage, the most political oxygen.

Expect more fearful hysteria coming from the White House in the days to come.

Today’s music is by David Bowie. The Neurons caught me shaking my head over Trump’s manipulating language and unfounded declarations. In response, they fired up “Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps).

The song came out in 1980. The chorus fits Trump and his ‘be-very-afraid’ style, but I’m more drawn to Robert Fripp’s guitar work on it.

Chorus:

[Chorus]
Scary monsters
Super creeps

Keep me running
Running scared
Scary monsters
Super creeps

Keep me running
Running scared

h/t to Genius.com

I hope the creeps, monsters and fears leave you and your friends and family alone, giving you time for happiness, love, and to gorw.

Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music — Uneasy Distractions

Ashland, southern Oregon — Saturday, July 11, 2026.

65 and cloudy, it feels like a comfortable 72 outside. The temperature will rise into the high 80s today in our valley.

It seems to me like Trump has been losing mojo. Just IMO. Gas prices are rising — again, after a brief reprieve while a ceasefire was in effect — and the recession vibe remains strong. People keep talking about it and they’re not pleased.

Although Republicans ‘support’ the war with Iran, it’s not very popular. His objectives are all over the place, as is the timetable. Only the triple impacts of death, destruction, and costs are clear.

Hustling to keep power, Trump is trying distraction after distraction under Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! This week, he rolled out the classic right-wing trope, ‘commies’.

Like many of Trump’s tactics, he’s going after emotional votes, and uses fear. Basic insights tell us that this shift is to attract anyone previously affected by communism, such as Cuban voters who escaped Castro. It’ll also speak directly to those cold war survivors who had the commie threat ingrained in them for decades.

Threat inflation, I believe it’s called, and it’s been used in politics forever, most recently when JD Vance and Trump made up stories about Haitians eating people’s pets.

Trump is hoping that the commie threat will distract us from the tangible and intangible expenses of his war with Iran. He also has his fingers crossed that it’ll be enough of a distraction to lower our concerns about the rising challenge of affordability in the US, extreme weather problems being fueled by climate change, his grifting, and the many other ways he’s broken promises and failed.

That emotional vibe is what keeps MAGAts riding the Trump bus.

Meanwhile, the rural hospital crises goes on. Measles outbreaks have already surpassed 2025’s total, and will get worse. Measles used to reflect the school-year cycle but now, as children attend summer camps, the spread of measles is no longer contained to the school systems as much as it was.

A new vision of Trumpland rises. The wealthy top five to ten percent enjoy life as poverty grows. People outside of the wealthy class increasingly struggle to keep up with needs — food, health, shelter, energy — or the house and health insurance to save them when things go wrong.

Trump keeps juggling distractions: Greenland! Ballroom! Security! Freedom 250! Formula 1 race in DC! Immigrants! Commies, commies, commies! Iran with nukes! The Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. Stolen elections! Election fraud!

Emotional voters will vote for him because he says it like it is, because he speaks to their fears.Yes, that’s a little reductive; others will vote for him because ‘the Bible’ or ‘woke’. More will vote for him because ‘Merica, or ‘Republican’.

That’s what we face to bring sensible change back into the national conversation.

Today’s song came out in 1973. The ballad of the “Uneasy Rider” was by the Charlie Daniels Band — CDB. It tells the story of a long-haired person driving through the south back in the early 1970s when they have a flat tire.

While waiting for their tire to be fixed, the narrator takes refuge in a bar, where he hides his hair up under his hat. But circumstances arise when he must ‘tip his hat to a lady’. He does, revealing his long hippie hair.

Suddenly he’s nervous and in danger. In order to escape, he starts accusing one of the others of various things — playing on fears. Here’s the lyrics that tell the tale:

And I knew I better think of something pretty quick
So I just reached out and kicked ol’ green teeth right in the knee
Now he let out a yell that’d curl your hair
But before he could move I grabbed me a chair
And said, “Watch him folks ’cause he’s a thoroughly dangerous man!”
“You may not know it but this man is a spy
He’s a undercover agent for the FBI
And he’s been sent down here to infiltrate the Ku Klux Klan!”

He was still bent over holding on to his knee
But everybody else was looking and listening to me
And I laid it on thicker and heavier as I went
I said, “Would you believe this man has gone as far
As tearing Wallace stickers off the bumpers of cars
And he voted for George McGovern for President”

“Well, he’s a friend of them long haired hippy-type, pinko fags!

I bet you he’s even got a commie flag
Tacked up on the wall inside of his garage”
“He’s a snake in the grass, I tell you guys
He may look dumb but that’s just a disguise
He’s a mastermind in the ways of espionage”

h/t Genius.com

The narrator plays on fears to distract so he can escape, just as Trump does to ‘change the narrative’.

Listening to the song, I heard a few differences in this version.

  1. He doesn’t mention peace signs on his car.
  2. The original mentioned voting for Wallace; it’s been changed Reagan.
  3. The narrator accuses green teeth of voting for Jimmy Carter for president.
  4. “Mario Andretti would have sure been proud” was the original reference; that was changed to Cale Yarborough.
  5. And the references to their peckers on fire has been changed…

Hope you have a distractionfree day of peace, grace, good food and good health.

Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

So we have come to another Sunda. This is September 14, 2025. Thirty days hath September (just checked in my head), so tomorrow reaches the month’s halfway point. With the month’s end, we dip into 2025’s final quarter. It’s 65 F. Rain is in the clouds competing with the sunshine. Wind and trees are into a brisk dance.

Autumn is making solid inroads into our Pacific Northwest outlook. Today’s high will drift toward the mid seventies. My wife said, “I don’t mind it if the temperature drops but I dislike it when it’s so dark in the morning. I miss the morning light.” I totally get that and agree. As she went on to point out, the daylight savings situation doesn’t help, with us facing longer hours of early darkness as we begin our days.

My wife and I are trying to plan a trip back home for Mom’s 90th birthday do. However, my spouse said she experienced flashes of light in her eyes the other day as we went around Crater Lake and descended. She wants to have our eyes checked for problems before committing to flying. She’s not had incidents since that day, a week ago yesterday, and it was storming that day, with thunder and lightning. But she’s quite risk adverse. Having her eyes checked is the prudent thing to do.

I read a Politico piece titled, Trump loves AI, and the MAGA world is getting worried. It’s an interesting topic. I’m not surprised MAGA is generally against AI, as they tend to be people who dislike change and are slow to embrace technology. AI promises both fast change, and it’s advanced technology. Of course, Hollywood and television has fed us a dystopian diet of dire developments from AI. We have fears laced with worries baked into our cultural soul.

Other than that, I turned away from the news. It’s Sunda, a slow news day by design in the digital age. It’s more of a day of recap and reflection. I decided I’d do the same. I don’t know how the rest of the world does these things, but I’ll do it with a cuppa coffee, do some writing, read a book, clean, and converse with my wife. It feels like a good chillin’ day.

I dreamed of many cats last night. As I was digesting all that nocturnal churn, Papi and I went out for an early dose of sunshine and deep breathing. That ginger floof acted kittenish, galloping about, tail swishing, and then bounding into the house and across the rooms as I walked in behind him and laughed at his antics. With the sunshine and Papi’s attitude affecting them, The Neurons burst into the morning mental music stream with “Beautiful Day”. This is a U2 song from 2000, before this mess in America flared to its aggravating proportions. I played a U2 melody yesterday. Normally, I don’t present music from the same group two days in a row but this one worked for the moment, and I let Der Neurons’ choice stand.

Coffee has made incursions into my body. May grace and peace be with you and me and the world today and always. Cheers

Wenzdaz Wandering Thoughts

I’ve been hearing a little voice in my head. Well, there are actually a few. I live by a committee of voices in my head. Some are writing advisors, editors, and muses. Others are DIY budgeteers. Several more very vocal citizens and progressives are in there, often spitting mad with exasperation and disgust as the Trump wrecking ball obliterates democracy, decency, and morality in the United States. Besides them and voices of memory who like to bring up things I have done and enjoyed, I also have a couple health consultant voices, a few therapists and exercise coaches, and relationship advisors. On the whole, they’re mostly civilized, respecting the other voices, only speaking up when the others are quiet.

One thing I’ve learned from all of these is not to ignore them. As time has threaded past, I’ve repeatedly been re-educated that the little voices often know a lot more than me about what’s going on and what I should do. When I ignore them, things will go bad, as they predict. Naturally, they then say, “I told you so. You should’ve listened.”

So I’m vowing to them again, “Okay, I’m listening.”

Naturally, one snidely replied, “Sure.”

The voices are a lot like me.

The Writing Moment

I completed revising and editing the novel in progress. Gravity’s Emotions.

I wrote the novel I wanted. The story I wanted to read. As ‘they’ always advise and suggest. ‘They’ are the establishment. The writers who made it. The teachers who teach it. The editors who edit it, the publishers who print it, the agents who represent it. Of course, once the writer writes the novel they want, ‘they’ all take their turns on it. That’s the art, and the business. Then it gets to the readers.

Woo, boy.

My doubts have been kicking me, heaping scorn on my effort. Those doubts are always ready to jump on me. Doesn’t matter what’s going on. They are what they are.

“Your idea of inconsistent consistent inconsistency is ridiculous,” they growl. “It’s too complicated. Too surreal and too far out there. And the book is too big. That’s also a stupid title.”

“Thanks, guys,” I answer. Because there is no arguing with doubt. Let it come, beat you up, expend its energy, and walk away. Don’t engage your doubt. That’s what ‘they’ say.

The doubts do present legitimate points. The manuscript is an epic monster. 700 pages. Umpteen billion words. Lot of fun to write, edit, revise. Amazing that I wrote that thing in a few hours a day. I started it in July of 2024. I often ponder, HTF is that possible? It neatly slots into my thoughts about duality: it was at once hard work and a long time and a lot of hours, and not much time, not too difficult, and a lot of fun.

Meanwhile, the draft is being distributed to my small core of private readers. See what they think. Decisions will be set regarding their feedback. Then, into the submission maws.

While that’s all happening, another novel is already underway.

End of World Dreams

I’m covering two of my three end of world dreams from last night. First, these dreams had very dark settings. Most of the first one took place underground or at night.

Another aspect that fascinated me about the dreams was how it combined elements of my military career with my IBM employment. Trippy mind work going on there. And now, the dreams.

I was working for IBM and it wasn’t going well. Exhausted from working and trying to save our division, many of us were sleeping at work, going twenty-four hours to try to save it. But we’d run out of time and knew the division was going to be shut down. Worse, and more surreally, we realized that the world was ending. How and why it was ending, the dream never covered. But this was something I knew, and was continually in the back of my dream mind.

To start, I’d been sleeping on the floor in my work office. It’s totally dark. I have a few private possessions and clothing, and that’s it. Voices awaken me. I listen and recognize our division director dismally describing the situation: world ending, division ending, shutting down. We were hanging on to our jobs because it gave us some hope that something could be done to stop the end of the world. Now he’s saying, we failed.

His comments stir me into a restless fit. I pace, trying to brainstorm about what we can do. Crazy ideas emerge but nothing sensible. I want to go talk to him about it, so I dress and head out, tracking him down.

The office area is built on a rock-strewn coastline. I clamber over rocks to find the director. He vaguely knows me. I throw out some ideas and he thanks me but tells me, they’ve already shot down those ideas because we don’t have the resources. It’s all dark doom and gloom.

I wander into another section and find an unused office. Turns out, the IBM offices are built on top of an old military base. The office used to be a missile control center. Finding a key, I put it into a dusty receptacle and turn it.

From elsewhere, I hear alarmed chatter that there are lights on: a missile is firing. I’m horrified to discover that I’ve turned a key to launch a nuclear missile. I’m also shocked; apparently, this one was overlooked when the nukes were removed. I frantically attempt to turn back the key but fail. Finding the director and other people, I try to reassure them that the nuke won’t detonate because it wasn’t armed, but I’m not sure. I’m pretty certain that high explosive are in the warhead and will detonate. I speculate that could cause the nuke to go off.

I run out to watch it. The missile launches into the dark sky. Huge ocean waves are crashing into the buildings, tearing them down. Shouting warnings to others, I climb the slippery rocks and escape.

Time slips past. I’m now surviving with three other men in the remaining office complex. We walk around setting small fires to keep warm and looking for food. We’ve found a cache, so we’re not too worried. I’ve also found a radio and keep tuning it, attempting to pick up radio stations and get some news. I worry about some of the fires they’ve set because they’ve put them under wall calendars and posters, which are catching fire.

“So?” Others ask. “What’s going to happen? We’ll burn down the building? It’s the end of the world.” Although I understand what they’re saying, I’m thinking that they have a bad attitude about surviving.

We drift out of the building to find other survivors. We end up in an underground tunnel in a yellow taxi. I’m driving. The tunnel is dully lit with dim yellow lights. To proceed further, we need to stop at a toll gate. There are three lines. Two lines are hugely backed up. The third has no one waiting. We pull up to the gate for the third ine. I get out to talk to the gate attendant, a short, swarthy guy, and ask him, “Can we use this gate? We don’t have any money — “

He interrupts me by showing me a finger, wait. As this happens, a blond woman in a green skirt comes up and reminds the gate attendant that the gate we’re at is to only be used by VIPs and emergency personnel. She leaves and he turns to me and says, “Now you can.” I understand him to mean we can use it because she’s gone. I thank him and asks, “But how much does it cost?” He replies, “No charge.”

I awaken and think all that through. Falling back asleep, I have another dream about the end of the world. It’s burning, and I know it’s ending.

Another dream begins, and I’m with the other three men again. We’re just leaving the toll gate and enter a building. In there, we find some other people and plentiful supplies, including alcohol. We basically decide to drink and get drunk. Why not? The world is ending.

We’re sitting around drinking and hear the outer door open. Investigating, we find four woman entering. They tell us they were looking for someone to party with since the world is ending. We tell them that we have alcohol and invite them to join us. They agree, and men and women pair off.

My companion is a short, chubby woman. She and I begin making out but she becomes morose about the of the world and starts crying. I try consoling her with hugs and some positive statements but she goes on about how so many people are gone and it’ll all be over soon, which is why she and her friends were looking for someone to party with. She and I go back to the main room, where the others are also arriving. All have had the same situation, that the women are sad and crying. They live.

Dream end. I awoke and realized with surprise that it was part of the first dream because of the background situation, my companions, and the setting.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

We’re cleaning up. Purging. Reducing our possessions.

I’m reaching into dark spaces in the garage not touched by humans in years. Gloves are donned. Because this is black widow country.

I don’t kill them. I want us to peacefully co-exist. But I don’t know if they got the word.

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

One of last night’s dreams included a giraffe. I don’t think I’d ever dreamed of a giraffe before. It also seemed at odds with the rest of the dream. Having written and thinking about it, I put it aside with a promise to self to look up what a giraffe in a dream might mean. This explanation came up in my efforts.

Dreaming of a giraffe is a pointer to the challenges and difficulties you’ll have to face to streamline your life.

The giraffe dream tells you to see beyond the immediate challenges. Just as the giraffe can see predators at a distance, this dream calls on you to be wary of danger.

I might be groping for straws, but this definition fit with my initial, spontaneous take on why a giraffe was in my dream.

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