Saturda’s Theme Music

Papi cat is not happy. I know this because of the shouting meows. Not just the sound. He faces me and leans into it. Stretches his jaws wide. He’s Maria Callas using his diaphragm to belt it out.

“I know,” I tell him.

Rain fell all night. Sometimes in buckets. Papi is not a friend of rain. We also re-installed the pet door. In days past, Tucker slept on the mat in front of the pet door. That meant no other animal was entering. With Tucker gone, we decided the food bowls needed to be moved further away.

Background is, we had a buncha cats at one point. They usually didn’t get along. So we had three feeding stations. One in each the laundry room, the office, and the bedroom. In the bedroom, the feeding station lives by the wall beside the sliding door where the pet door resides. We thought it needed to be moved further away so that some passing animal didn’t sniff the kibble richness and come in through the pet door. Since Tucker is no longer guarding the pet door.

But all that change has Papi irritated. Pour the rain on top and he feels that the world is a cruel and injust place.

“I know,” I tell him. “I had to change my diet due to high blood pressure. It sucks.”

“Meyeah,” Papi wailed back.

Yes, it has rained all night. It’s wet and chilly this morning. 44 F and rain. The high will be 51 F and rain. The low will be 41 F and rain. The rain is good for the land, we remind each other. The pep in our pep talks is petering out, though. Everyone wants sunshine until they don’t. Then we want rain. Until we don’t. It’s the cycle of complaint. Weather version.

This is Saturda. April 26, 2025. Still spring in Ashlandia. And typical Ashlandia spring weather.

I’m a little miffed. I had yard plans. I’d been making progress. The rain has placed a pause on the cause. I can’t do the things planned, cause rain and electric power equipment. I’ve read somewhere that they are not a good combination.

I’m happy it’s Saturday. The news cycle slows on the weekends. News doesn’t stop but less people are reporting and airing it. Much as I’d like a break from it, we need to stay vigilant against the Trusk Regime’s evil. That evil goes 24/7. Just when you think their empathy has bottomed, they show a lower side. Most recently, they deported a two-year US citizen. Because, Trump. He no like the 16th Amendment. So he decided to ignore it. Because that’s what you do if you dislike laws. It’s the Trump U.S.A. way.

Snark alert: The other ‘good’ news is that the number of measles cases keep rising. Looks like RFK Jr’s plans just can’t get an angle on stopping it. Probably because he eschews using science and medicine.

Final bit of irritating news. Trump says he’s talking to China about the tariffs. China says, “No, he isn’t.” Either side could be lying. Given Trump’s record, I believe it’s him. Trump is lying. Yet again.

Puttering through the kitchen at pre-coffee speed, The Neurons raised a line in my head. “Let me remember things I don’t know.” I further slowed. I know the line. That wasn’t the line. That was a mondegreen: a misunderstood song line. Urging The Neurons into more effort, the song and real line punched in:

“Let me remember things I love, Lord.” CCR. “Green River”.

Coffee has made a safe landing in my body. Dressed, fed, and caffeinated, I am re-animated for another day. Hope you have a day that works in your favorite. It can happen. Cheers

Frida’s Wandering Political Thoughts

A Democratic Party insider told me who the party supports as candidate for the 2028 nominee for POTUS.

“John F. Kennedy.”

I raised a salient objection. “He’s dead. Worse, he’s been buried.”

“True, true, true.”

“You’re not talking about a clone.”

“Of course not. That’d be silly. No, we’re thinking, AI.”

“Articial Intelligence?”

“What else? Listen, if corporations are people, why can’t AI be people?”

“I need to think about that,” I answered.

“Okay, let me tell you more. See if I can convince you. What we did is create an AI that’s modeled on President John F. Kennedy’s thinking. We fed all the interviews which we could find, all his papers, speeches, books, diaries, and journals, along with biographies about him, into a quantum computer. It then developed the ability to replicate JFK’s thinking and speaking, giving us a virtual entity who is just like him. It’s uncanny. Wait until you see it.”

I was shaking my head in skepticism. “It’ll never work.”

“We think it will. He polls very well.”

“I don’t think people are ready for AI to be elected to any office.”

“No, no, turns out that almost 80 percent of likely voters who were polled said they could support AI for president. A majority of voters think that AI is more principled and intelligent than many politicians holding office or running for nomination. In fact, more people are willing to vote for AI than a woman.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, but what about his assassination over sixty years ago? Surely, that’s a drawback.”

“No, no, no. Many people have always believed that JFK wasn’t really killed, that all of that was just a fiction to get him out of office.”

“Even if they believe that, it’s six decades later. He’d be over a hundred years old. Do you really think that people will support a candidate who is over hundred years old after what we endured with Joe Biden?”

My source grinned. “We told them that JFK was cryogenically stored. He’s only fifty years old.”

“They believe that?”

“You’d be surprised what they believe. Just to seal the deal, Elvis Presley is endorsing JFK.”

“Presley?” I laughed. “He’s been dead since — “

“No, no, he wasn’t dead. He was in storage, too. Trust me. We’ve done the research. The numbers support this idea.

“Presley and Kennedy are still alive. Along with Walt Disney and Jackie O. All are alive. They’ve all just been frozen. The time has come for the truth to be told.”

My source leaned forward. “The people are ready for Camelot’s return. JFK will kick Trump’s ass. Remember, you heard it here first.”

Frida’s Theme Music

Clouds have moved into Ashlandia. As neighbors go, they tend to being quiet but flighty. They’re also large but I don’t want to body shame anyone.

With the clouds, we get warmer nights but colder days. Last night only slipped down to 51 F. Today’s high will be 61 F. Will it rain? Let me consult with my digitized Magic 8 Ball. Magic 8 says “It is decidely so.”

Today, BTW, is marked as Friday, April 25, 2025. One third of 2025 is about to end. Despite all of PINO Trump’s promises, preening, and bullying, the Russia-Ukraine goes on. The government is in miserable shape and not saving any money. People are losing 401K money because the stock market and bond market are waaayyy worse than under the previous POTUS. Tourism is down. Talk and worries about empty shelves, increasing unemployment, recession and even economic depression is increasing. Pundits already call it the Trumpcession.

PINO Trump responds to it all with glee. “Look how much money my billionaire friends made.” He alternates that with, “What, me — worry?”

I have The Outsiders performing in the morning mental music stream. The song is “Time Won’t Let Me”. Released in 1965, it grew into a hit and radio staple. That led to its purchase as a 45 RPM offering. The record became part of the basement playlist in our neighborhood. We usually did that over at Tracy and Carolyn’s house, as they had a finished basement.

The Smithereens did a cover for the 1994 movie Timecop, starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. I admit, I prefer the original song.

Coffee has come to my aid again, fortifying my psyche for reading the news. Hope you’re all well out there in streaming land, cuz here we go. Cheers

Twosda’s Theme Music

At 4:07 AM, the cat announced, “Let’s go!” Yes, he batted and chatted me awake enough to sleep walk to the door and release him back into the wild. He didn’t stay in the wild long. Cold, wind, and hunger drove him back in. “Not that wild, are you?” I asked him. He meowed back.

Thus began Twosda, April 22, 2025, much as many other days begin. Twosda and Thirstdas are the worse for me in this regard. My wife gets up early on Mun-Wen-Fri to attend exercise class. She deals with the cat between 6:30 and 8 AM on those days. But today has Papi testing the limits, in and out. I suspect he has two twins and they’re taking turns at this.

It was 39 F at 4:30 AM. If you trust Alexa. I asked it the temperature after Papi came back in. I was curious because it felt cold to my half-naked body. Like Sun & Mun, today features a clear blue-sky sauce and a glaze of sunshine with a tincture of wind and mild temperatures that lose their punch in the mid to upper sixties.

Trump continues to pile instability on instability, crazy on crazy, losses on losses. Like all great leaders, he sets ridiculous goals using ideologically-driven data, fails to take many details and factors into account, and then pretends it’s going great as everyone else prepares to get out the toilet plunger because this shit is overwhelming the crapper. He is consistently terrible and proud of it. Living in a Teflon-coated bubble, he’ll probably never recognize his insanity and the disastrous, negative impact he delivered to millions of people.

Unless, of course, his secret goal is to completely undermine and destroy the United States. That’s also possible. He could well be in collusion with Russian and oil oligarchs and are busy setting the table up to establish a powerful global cabal. Makes as much sense as any other shit he spreads.

They say that the Roberts Court is finally getting a backbone. “They’ll reign Trump in.” Ha. I think Trump is already smirking at the Roberts Court as he says, “Hold my Big Mac.” Harvard and other universities are suing the Trusk Regime. He doesn’t care. He’s already destabilized and disrupted our education systems and research programs. A third of the national NOAA weather offices have lost their leases. We’ll see what that does to the ability to warn about weather disasters. Then, Trump and Noem have been dismantling FEMA, so when these disaster squat on communities and drop a load, the state and community will struggle to recover and rebuild. Meanwhile, DOGE is raiding personal data and will probably weaponize that on behalf of Russia. He’s truncated international alliances and friendships that effectively worked for over half a century, isolating our nation. Besides all that, he’s been running due process over with a golf court.

And Trump and his supporters think this is just great. Anyway…onward.

When I first heard this Led Zeppelin song when I was thirteen, I thought, holy fucking shit. That was a startling development because I’d never sworn before that. That’s when I took up coffee, too. It all seemed to go together.

The song — “How Many More Times” — is in my morning mental music stream for reasons which The Neurons have sealed. They have better security than Kristi Noem and keep secrets more effectively than Pet (Pete) Hegseth. Not saying much, given how terrible and sloppy the Trump Regime has demonstrated itself to be, outside of the Musk-driven DOGE dogs.

Here is the music. When I listened to it today, my inner thirteen-year-old sat up and said, “Holy fucking shit.” This is a recording of a live show. Anyone familiar with Zep knows it’s gonna be a jam and will vary a bit from what was on the album.

Coffee has again insinuated itself into my body’s systems. I’m prepared to rock another day, at least until nap time later today. Hope your day is as purpose-filled as you need it. Carpe diem. Cheers

Munda’s Theme Music

My body and mind were unanimous. More sleep was wanted. Yesterday was busy with an Easter Brunch. We’d been preparing all week. 10:15, we set off to go help with setup. By 11:30, all were there. A smorgasbord awaited. Mexican quiche, salmon with asparagus, salmon and cream cheese rolls. Dutch babies and lemon cake for dessert. Salads. Juices and libation to make it chippier. Easter egg hunt and korn hole. A half dozen present shared their latest stories about demonstrating against Trump in Ashland and Medford. 2 PM, it was all over.

Over to a friend’s house for his 93rd birthday. Just family and my wife and I. He has health issues and didn’t want a gathering. After singing the birthday song, witnessing the candle blowout, and visiting for two hours, we headed home to unpack and wash everything.

Blue skies were the day’s order. Light wind kept it from becoming too warm. 69 F was the tops. Today seems like it looked over yesterday’s shoulder and copied the weather.

I reminded my body and mind that sleeping in wasn’t an option. Today is Food & Friends deliveries. Crank up the car, pick up the food, and roll through the streets on route 3 to knock on doors and ring bells and drop off a small meal in southeastern Ashlandia. I’m the driver; my wife makes the deliveries.

Then, finally, it’ll be back to writing at the coffee shop for a few hours, and then home to wash clothes and attend yard work. The grass and weeds are gladded by the sunshine. It’s all shooting up fast.

Papi is beside himself with happiness by the time the air warms. It’s rolled up to 49 F now. He heads outside and sniffs out the sunshine. Then wind sniffs him out and he’s back in. It’s a never-ending game of ‘In & Out’!

The mountain air loads the night with temperatures that dribble down into the mid thirties. That temp feels colder. But we’re on the regular Ashlandia spring track. Only troubling thing is we’re not seeing any bees. They’re normally all over the place with their buzzing presence. Their absence disturbs.

Yesterday’s Easter Trump dump again illuminated his pathetic ways. That vitriol and lie-filled text mess is a sign of an insecure, demented, ignorant person. Trump’s dark forces again rose to show what a sinister and ugly place the United States is becoming under his hand as two young and wholly innocent German tourists were detained and deported, all for the crime of not having accommodations already reserved. Such fools are now in charge. Then there’s Trump’s undocumented bullshit broadside against Abrego Garcia. WTF, United States. Is this truly your vision?

With those thoughts spinning through my groovy organic thought machine, The Neurons spun up Aerosmith in the morning mental music stream: “Same Old Song and Dance”. Last time I used this ditty was in 2019. Trump occupied the White House then. I wrote back on that day,

Reading the news yesterday and today, I was shaking my head, partially laughing while crying. You know, it was the same old story.

That led to me streaming Aerosmith.

It’s the same old story
Same old song and dance, my friend
It’s the same old story
Same old story
Same old song and dance

It was an easy song to identify with when I was a teenager and the song was released. When you asked questions, you often heard, “That’s just how it is. That’s how it goes.” It was always the same old song and dance, no matter what you were asked.

So here we go. Trump is attacking and bullying whatever he can — law, courts, common sense, history, morality, it’s all open to a Trump attack. He’s like a puppy gnawing on clothes, shoes, and furniture. Nothing is safe from his brainless chewing. A puppy does far less damage, though. A puppy will grow out of it. Trump, with his deteriorating and aging mental capacity, will get worse.

Same ol’ story, same ol’ song and dance.

Have the best day you can, my friend. Fueled with coffee, I’ll rock on for another day, it seems. Cheers

Saturda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Some things catching my attention in the week’s news…

I enjoy Ali’s regular offering, Peace & Justice History. Posted every day on Scottie’s Playground, the post provides a high-level recap of the day in history in the realm of peace, law, and justice. I like it as a reminder of the history which has gone before. While there is sometimes a sinking sensation that history is part of a wash cycle, and we’re going through the spin and rinse once again, reading about others stands against war and for justice and human dignity can inspire and fuel my need for optimism.

Infidel753 provided a good overview of the Bond market and the huge implications for the U.S. when our bonds fall out of favor. As several have suggested, the bond market drop probably caused the pause in Trump’s wacky tariff scheme.

“The sale of Treasury bonds is how the US government borrows money.  A bond’s value at maturity is fixed; its initial sale price is lower and is determined by supply and demand, with the difference between sale price and maturity value being the interest paid by the government to the investor.  For example, if a bond is worth $100 at maturity, and you buy it for $95, then the $5 difference is the interest you get on the investment, effectively paid to you by the government.  If you are less confident that the bond is a good investment, and you pay only $90, then your return is $10 when the bond matures, and the government is having to pay twice as much interest to borrow the money from you.  In practice, the sale price of Treasury bonds is set by supply and demand and reflects investors’ collective level of confidence in the US economy at any given moment.

“The reason this matters for the future of Trump’s befuddled trade and foreign policy is that huge quantities of US bonds are owned by foreign governments.  Japan holds over a trillion dollars worth of them, China holds $760 billion, the UK holds $720 billion, Canada holds $380 billion, and many others also hold substantial amounts.  Even by the standards of the US federal budget, these are very large amounts of money.  And these governments have now learned that turmoil in the bond market can get Trump to back down even when nothing else can.

Some hope was found that the Roberts Court finally, finally, took a stronger stance against the Trump Regime’s mass deportation scheme, the one that pretends that due process has no place in the U.S. no matter what the Constitution and legal precedence says. Jennifer Rubin at The Contrarian gave a concise summary of the latest ruling. Now we all wait to see what happens next. I haven’t perused the news yet, but something else may have already happened. Whatever else, the Trump Regime is an evil and diabolical machine in its pursuit of unlawfully getting people out of the country.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin is coping with lead paint in its schools. The Biden administration was working with them to help them out of this mess. Isn’t working for the common welfare one reason for the Federal government’s existence? But under the Trump Regime, the CDC experts who were going to help Milwaukee have been fired. And, the Trump Regime told them that it’s declining their request for help. I’m sure that Milwaukee citizens are probably wondering, why the fuck are we paying taxes, then. I know that would be my reaction. Not sure how this fits, but Wisconsin was a swing state that went for Trump while Milwaukee went for Harris.

A confusing piece was in The Hill. Trump on egg costs: ‘If anything, the prices are getting too low’. It was a real head-scratching read.

‘President Trump weighed in on the cost of eggs around the country, claiming Friday at the White House that the prices are “getting too low.”

Trump praised Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins for doing a “great” job and then asserted that egg prices are “down 87 percent, but nobody talks about that.”’  

“Bullshit,” my wife said. “I just bought eggs. They’re not down ’87 percent’. If that’s right, why are they still so expensive in Oregon?”

Yes, it’s something else to ponder.

Health Cares

A little reminder of the bullshit which surrounds reports about Trump’s health.

Snippet:

Unless you care about the president’s (sic) health (and I do not), it doesn’t matter to you or me what he weighs or how tall he is. What is important is that they’re dishonest. What’s important is the depth into which this regime sinks the cult into the government.

Trump, who is 78, needs to appear as a Superman to his cult. I’m shocked the memo mentions he takes aspirin for cardiac prevention. As we’ve learned, they lie about everything.

Right now, the regime is lying to the Supreme Court by claiming they can’t have a man they illegally snatched off the street and sent to a prison in El Salvador brought back to this country.

When Trump was running for president in 2016, Dr. Harold Bornstein stated that Trump would be the “healthiest individual ever elected to the presidency.” A couple of years later, we learned that Trump had dictated that letter, which didn’t surprise anyone. A doctor should lose his medical license over that. And it wouldn’t surprise us to learn he dictated “224” and “75 inches” to Captain Barbarella and wouldn’t allow him to mention that Trump’s cholesterol is just Big Mac Secret Sauce. His first White House physician was a lying alcoholic lunatic, Dr. Ronny Jackson, who doesn’t practice medicine anymore and is now in a place where he can’t hurt anybody, Congress.

Ronny Jackson claimed that Trump could live to be 200, and judging from the way our luck works, that might be true.

The memo does show that despite spreading debunked lies about vaccines, like his Health Secretary does, Trump is up to date on vaccines.

The part we should care about, and is more absurd than claiming he weighs 224 pounds, is the claim he scored 30 out of 30 on a cognitive test. I checked to be sure the memo didn’t state that he also has hands that are not tiny.

Anyone who believes Trump, the shark boat battery guy, scored 30 out of 30 on a cognitive test needs to take a cognitive test. I don’t believe this doctor would let us know if Trump scored less than 30.

Trump’s last presidential physical had him at 244 pounds. His 2023 arrest in Georgia listed him at 215 (they don’t weigh the prisoners but take their word for how much they weigh), and this exam says he’s 224.

If Trump does weigh 224 pounds, then that’s 224 pounds of walking/talking bullshit.

The one number that’s accurate about Trump is 34, as in 34 felony convictions.

And that’s the bottom line.

Thirstda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Once again, without much urging, I think, what fucking idiots.

Unfortunately, I’m in that frame of mind many times as I read the news. This time, the fucking idiots are lawyers.

Lawyers are supposedly smart people. That’s what I’ve always been told. Admittedly, the few lawyers I’ve personally encountered did reduce my appreciation for lawyers’ intelligence. Now, after watching the news for the last five years, I feel that they standards have been steadily dropping. Did you read their arguments about the ‘stolen election’? Did you see their performance in Trump’s trials? Did you read about the Roberts Court decision that Trump has immunity for his acts as POTUS? Sure, they tried to write around it and explain that it’s not absolute. You can bet your ass that Trump is thinking, “I’m President, and I’m making these decisions, and the Supreme Court said that I can’t be tried for that.”

Yes, it was a stupid fucking decision.

I’m telling you, lawyers are dumbing down. Soon, the requirements for being a lawyer will be, “Do you speak English, have five million dollars, and will vow allegiance to the great and mighty sacred god, Donald Trump? Here you go: you’re a lawyer.”

The kickoff for this new round of low regard for lawyers was a New York Times headline:

Law Firms Made Deals With Trump. Now He Wants More From Them.

To avoid retribution, big firms agreed to provide free legal services for uncontroversial causes. To the White House, that could mean negotiating trade deals — or even defending the president and his allies.

Absolute fucking fools, I think. Fucking idiots. Have these lawyers not been awake and aware of Donald fucking Trump for the last twenty years? He lacks honor. Has gone back on his word several times, describing it as being ‘flexible’. His only principle is, “How can I further enrich myself?” Secondary to that is, “How can I make others pay for making fun of me and not worshipping me as the greatest ever?” The man is a documented liar. He violated his marriage vows with affairs. He will cheat these law firms out of every fucking dollar and shred of dignity they have.

Capitulating to Trump is not the answer. Reading and thinking individuals know this. Michael Cohen warned us. So I want to know: how did these lawyers get their degrees and pass the bar without being able to fucking read and think?

Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Just a thought, but there should probably be a demonstration planned for June 14, 2025.

It is so funny in a haha not funny way, that as this nation wrestles with government cuts to save money, he wants to spend a huge amount of money to idolize himself.

That shows his true character. Those who cannot see it are deliberately blind.

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m just a Venn diagram. I’m at a point where massive disappointment in my nation fills me. I didn’t expect the GOP to fight Trump. It saddens me that I’m right. They just rolled over and became the Grand Ol’ Trump Party.

Pisses me off that the Trump Regime thumbs its nose at the law, treating elements like due process as something beneath them. Unfortunately, I predicted this when Trump was campaigning in 2024. So did many others. They laughed at us. But Trump said he would be a dictator on day one. We knew that wasn’t a joke.

Politically, I’m angry, disgusted, disappointed, and a whole dark rainbow of other negative energies about what’s going on from bullshit tariffs to the damaged economy to the ridiculous and unlawful gutting of the Federal government to — well, fill in the blank.

But it’s a sunny and warm spring day. Promise is in the air. I’m getting ready for beer with friends on Wednesday. They’re intelligent, good friends. I’m looking forward to seeing them. Preparing for a secular Easter brunch with friends on Sunday. That’ll have bittersweet toppings drizzled over it. Some of the regulars are gone. Others are in hospice.

Writing is fun and full of promise. That puts me in a very positive frame. A novel draft is finished, and so many other novels are lined up, eager to be written. But will that finished draft hold up in the next round of editing and revision? Then there’s the publishing game. That closes the damper on my enthusiasm.

Mom texts me and reminds me that she wants to be cremated. Do what we will with the ashes. Play Glenn Miller at her service. Hold it in the garden. She’s lived almost nine decades but she endures hourly pain and discomfort. Her quality of life can be categorized as miserable.

Down to one cat, my cativities are truncated from what they once were. An air of depression clouds that aspect of life.

Financially, my wife and I are okay. Viewing my health, I can be better or worse. Got all my limbs. They function well. I endure little regular pain on a daily basis. I’m not as strong nor limber as I used to be, and my hair is trekking away from my forehead. Memory still works for most of the time on most of the days.

My wife’s health is not as good. She searches for words more often and doesn’t find them. She’s developed a new habit of forgetting to turn things on or off. She’s bitter and angry with the world, especially with Trump, and the Roberts Court. She’s furious and anxious about women’s rights. Shoulder and back pain are building up their frequent flier miles with her.

So, I am here. In the middle of it all, happy and sad. Worried and hopeful. Bitter and angry. Joyful and loving. Loved and frustrated. I read of far worse situations for people. Like those in Gaza. Ukraine. Immigrants hunting a better existence for themselves and those they love. War and disaster refugees trying to find a home. People working hard and struggling harder. Sleeping in cars and hanging on for meals and help. Women and people of color hiding, living in fear, beaten and killed for who they are. People with a gender that doesn’t fall cleanly into male or female dismissed as less than equal, unaccepted by narrow-minded bigots. People starving to death as billionaires pile up more money and more property, self-pleasuring themselves with mindless greed.

We seem so far away from Star Trek‘s ideals and so much closer to Mad Max, Solyent Green, and The Handmaid’s Tale.

Life is one hell of a spectrum.

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