Sa’day’s Wandering Political Thoughts

It’s a gloooommmy glooommmy day here. All rain and descending swirling fog. We’re getting less of it up by my home but the weather down toward the valley floor is icky yuck wet, as a meteorologist would say.

Daily Kos delivered a bright ray through the gloom. Furious Democratic Rep COMPLETELY NUKES Trump’s “Modern McCarthyism” They’re talking about Rep. Melanie Stansbury, NM-D, and her magnificent comments about JD Vance’s bill. As Rep. Stansbury highlights, the bill essentially creates a blacklist of who can’t work for the Federal government, based on their perceived loyalty to PINO-elect Trump.

“Welcome to the new House Committee on Un-American Affairs and the new McCarthyism,” she said. “We have arrived here today with this bill.”

The bill has the support of the Heritage Foundation — the conservative think tank behind the notorious Project 2025 policy plan — which issued a letter of support, Stansbury noted.

Led by Project 2025 and the Heritage Foundation, supported by Trump and his MAGA base, the United States is goose-stepping back into less free, less democratic times. We’ve been led down this path before. The attached video (same one from Daily Kos) has part of Edward R. Murrow’s editorial about McCarthyism in it.

This is no time for men who oppose Senator McCarthy’s methods to keep silent, or for those who approve. We can deny our heritage and our history, but we cannot escape responsibility for the result. There is no way for a citizen of a republic to abdicate his responsibilities. As a nation we have come into our full inheritance at a tender age. We proclaim ourselves, as indeed we are, the defenders of freedom, wherever it continues to exist in the world, but we cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home.

We can substitute Trump or MAGA or Project 2025 or the Heritage Foundation or the GOP for ‘Senator McCarthy’. The policies they pursue and the campaigns they use fit McCarthy’s brand of divisiveness, political repression, and fear-mongering.

Good to know that individuals like Rep. Stansbury has our backs.

Thursday’s Theme Music.

Today is Thursday, December 26, 2024. Five more days to the year. A year stamped with historic and personal significance. Wonder how 2025 will compare at this time next year.

Gray. Rainy. Chilly. Call it 44 F. Light rain. This is winter in Ashlandia. Snow hugs things above three or four thousand feet, looks like at a glance. Down here, we’re stuck in the gray. Sunshine muted through gray clouds from mountain to mountain to mountain. Gray clouds as far as I can see, looking down into the valley. And rain.

Yes, I’m complaining.

The cats are not, however. After a night of howling wind and incessant rain, Papi dragged in his wet Butter Butt and found a warm space to sleep off the day. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) had already set the example, staying in, finding a comfy zone, nodding into slumber.

Late post as I spent the morning writing. One of those days when the muses arrived early. The house was quiet and the coffee was hot, so. Seated myself at the laptop and added 2,500 words. Excited by the twist added. See if it stands revision, editing, and further thinking.

Today’s music selection was made by The Neurons after a friend’s comment yesterday. A decade older than moi, she’s not known for her colorful language. But there she was making a risque, off-color comment at the Christmas bash. As we reacted and laughed, she turned as red as Santa’s outfit. Net result: The Neurons have “Dirty Mind” by the brilliant Prince playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark filthy).

Well, deep breath. Dredge up some positive energy. Here we go again. Let’s start with the music. Cheers

Sinda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

PINA Trump hasn’t even taken the oath of office yet, and the crazy is already at a third-year frenzy. He’s grabbing headlines this weekend by bellowing about the Panama Canal.

“The Panama Canal is considered a vital national asset for the United States, due to its critical role to America’s economy and national security,” Trump said Saturday on his Truth Social platform. “A secure Panama Canal is crucial for U.S. Commerce, and rapid deployment of the Navy.”

Inspired by Trump’s demands, Putin put out statement that maybe Russia should demand Alaska back. “Alaska is considered a vital national asset for the Russian Federation due to its location and wealth of natural resources. A secure Alaska is crucial for Russian commerce, and a rapid deployment of our military forces.”

Not to be outdone, France issued a statement suggesting that they might demand the Louisiana Purchase be returned to France. “We were tricked into making that sale,” the statement said. “America’s ambassadors supplied champagne, whiskey, and wine to the meeting, and took advantage of France’s representatives.”

Representatives of King Charles III’s government put out a statement that they are re-thinking the history of the original thirteen colonies, and might demand that they be returned as well. Spain has suggested it might demand that Florida be returned to them, “Because it’s a really warm place and is important for our ability to relax, enjoy the sun, and visit Disney.”

Several Indian tribes in the United States have given notice that they intend to demand their territories back, noting that the United States failed to live up to treaties or killed the people inhabiting it and stole the land.

In another official statement, the President of the United Mexican States said that although Texas was once part of Mexico, they were willing to let the United States keep it.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: temperate

It’s another Friday. This one is December 13, 2024, which triggers some, especially if they’re Knights Templars. But I’m not one and I’m not bothered by the date. Except, there’s less than two weeks until Christmas, if that’s your celebrating avenue. More importantly, the end is near — the end of the year, that is.

Today’s white blob of a sky blends in over the mountain and tree tops, fuzzying our edges and spitting on the eastern windows. Temperature is 42 F and as with yesterday, we’re just four degrees of separation from our high. Unlike yesterday, which morphed into a pleasant autumn day with wintry overtones, a brisk wind is moaning the blues, prompting a high-wind advisory.

Papi the ginger blade despairs of this wind. He beat at the door as soon as it rose. Fattened by brekkie and at least floofmentarily aware of the wind, he’s stretched out in the living room, a pretty orange and white furry binkie.

Several politically-connected matters caught my eye. One, Andy Borowitz put his humorous spin on Hegseth as Drumpf’s nominee to head Defense: “Hegseth Offers to Connect Breathalyzer to Nuclear Arsenal”. Feels hysterically funny because there’s too much truth in it. The second item was one pointed out by on Scottie’s Playground: Study: Republicans Respond to Political Polarization by Spreading Misinformation, Democrats Don’t. Some of us reacted, yes, and water tends to be wet. To see it hardwired as actual study results is satisfying because it underscores our observations that the modern American right wing can’t handle the truth and make shit up.

Finally, also out of Scottie’s Playground, is a tale of Not Good News in Florida. “Earlier this fall, Florida officials ordered transgender women in the state’s prisons to submit to breast exams. As part of a new policy for people with gender dysphoria, prison medical staff ranked the women’s breast size using a scale designed for adolescents. Those whose breasts were deemed big enough were allowed to keep their bras. Everyone else had to surrender theirs, along with anything else considered “female,” such as women’s underwear and toiletry items.

Yes, we know that besides making shit up when they feel threatened, American Republicans tend to become crueler and treat others who aren’t like them with greater contempt and inhumanity. They’re such a misguided, fact-aversion, hate-filled, group of lying fantasists. If we had greater involvement and better critical thinking from more voting-age Americans, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But a large swath of indifference and lethargy has given power to fools, and all of us will suffer.

I have a weird song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark dated). “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter” originally came out in 1935, twenty-one years before my birth. It’s literally been around all my life and then some. The Neurons inserted it into the mmms after a dream in which I wrote myself a letter and then mailed it. A busy dream night, all I remember of that dream is that I as a young teen wrote myself a letter and posted it on a sunny day. Then this song begun. It’s been covered by two and a half gazillion performers. I have females and males singing it in the mmms because this was one of those songs Mom often played on her stereo hi-fi, and she sang along to it. I just surfed the net for a version which I like. Hope you know the song and like it. So here’s the late Jeff Healey with his cover. Jeff Healey and his band were in the movie Road House staring Patrick Swayze, Sam Elliott, Kelly Lynch, and Ben Gazzara in 1989.

Rain is spitting on the western windows now, and the wind’s mutterings have turned louder, angrier, and more prolonged. Coffee and I have made our daily agreement. Here’s the music. Cheers

Twosday’s Theme Music

Mood: Twosdayized

28 degrees, Twosday come into the valley with sunshine, blue skies, and patchy fog. The day hovers in the liminal folds between autumn and winter, that murky zone called autner. Feels like it could get colder. Feels like clouds could march in and dump snow. But the sunshine claims it might get warmer. In fact, some forecasters insist, as they have on previous days, that today’s high will crack the fifties and stalk the upper edges toward sixty. But the valley’s stagnant air messes with the forecasting process. Yesterday’s high attained 45 F when 56 F was supposed to be the ceiling. So, I’m not planning to see 56 F today.

This stagnant air is weird. A still, windless phenomena, the chill it carries creeps through everything. You dress for much colder air and the house heating works hard because that creeping chill.

Going through the valley yesterday to shop, I saw that a thin line of brown pollution rimmed the more populated western region. Get used to that, I thought. Trump and his clown cabinet will cut regulations. “Business,” they’ll shout, and the sheeple shout, “Yes. Business first.” Business means prosperity, right? Wage increases. Profits. Bull market.

Most of the sheeple fail to understand that the government and economy worked better under Democratic control. Their limited memories don’t pull up the dark, sooty airs the United States experienced in the 1960s and 1970s before the EPA and their pesky regs came out and ordered, “Thou shall not pollute.” Nor do they comprehend the impact on health that it brings, and the reciprical effect on productivity and costs due to worker illness and absences. They don’t think that fucking deep. Or course, it’s hard to do so with Republicans bleating otherwise in a 24/7 cacophony. And it’s hard to remember and think whn your education is being hamstrung with teachings about how Jesus saved the world and climate change is a hoax, and look! Illegals! Trans! Woke! They also believe that wealthy people won’t hoard their wealth but will spread it around like fertilizer and turn everything cash green for everyone.

Yes, they are fucking fools.

Sigh. On to other matters.

We shopped at Costco. It’s been a go-to for us since the early 1990s. Our local Costco was moderately busy on a Monday afternoon. Mostly older shoppers. Ahem. Like us. As we entered and began our prowl, my wife shouted at the milling shoppers, “What about inflation?” She’s still riled up about that. I told her, “Babe, they’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna get worse. This is Doomsday shopping. They’re out here trying to get deals and soothe their troubled minds with food and toys to help them when reality crashes in.”

Being the second day of the workweek, it’s natural that this is called Twosday. Many don’t realize that the first spelling for ‘two’ or 2 was tue. Somehow, as the language and alphabet swelled into its current shape, tue became two. But the day of the week was already cemented in influential calendar makers, so Tuesdays remained.*

* Yes, that was all b.s.

Today’s music came out in 2020, while lockdown was prevalent. Being retired, I don’t work, so the song doesn’t really address me and my grips. But The Neurons called it up because I’ve been muttering to myself, “I need to get back to the coffee shop and get back to work on my writing.” Ding ding ding. The Neurons had a piece of “Work” by Pop Evil in the morning mental music stream (Trademark being worked): “All I do is work!”

Alright, coffee and I have come to an agreement. I will make it and pour it into my watering hole, and it will kick my energy up. Look up, open your eyes, and breathe deep. Time for another Twosday to be vanquished. Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Raindamental

A light grey bolt of cloth stretches over our valley. Winds whip trees into wild gesturing. Accumulated moisture glistens on everything. This is Thursday, November 21, 2024.

A bomclone continues its hold on us, closing roads outside of the valley with snow and fallen tres, but we’re okay in our neck. 44 F, light rain, but hey, it feels like 47 F and it’s gonna strike 48 before daylight fades.

Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is okay staying in with that weather raging outside but Papi the ginger blade is trying to set a new record. He’s been in and out six times today. I think he’s been inspired by Robert Heinlein’s cat and is looking for the door into summer. As my wife lets Papi in, she asks him, “Are you hungry?” Like asking him, “Are you an orange boi?” Hell yeah, he’s hungry, Papi hollers back. He hasn’t eaten in like fourteen minutes, the last time he left the house.

A moment for mock applause. Gotta hand it to Trump, he’s being proactive. No sense waiting for folks to become part of his administration to get corrupt. He’s gonna start with corrupt individuals and see how corrupt he can be. Like he’s angry at the nation and the concept of freedom and democracy and the public welfare and is out to destroy it via a rich man tantrum. I mean, have you seen the names and records he’s trusting to do his bidding? Hope his voters shrivel with shame and sink into the ruin they’re making of this nation. Yeah, I’m not bitter, angry, or disgusted. History will judge them harshly.

Thinking of summer, The Neurons begin working up summer songs. They finally emerge in the morning mental music stream (Trademark watery) with Superchunk and “This Summer” from 2012. It’s a song I rarely hear except when I’m tuned to satellite FM in the car and on an indie-oriented station. And while it’s about summer as we travel a trough of stoutly autumn weather, the lyrics kind of play into it. To get a little political (moi?), one of the lines go, “We can’t forget what we never knew.” Perfect epitaph for Trump voters IMO.

Get positive and remember your values and dreams. Coffee has entered my systems and is doing its thang. Here’s the music. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Recalibrating

Chilly. Cold. Bleak as the moors below shifting dark clouds and undependable sunshine. Real stay in and have some hot food weather, if you can.

It’s 41 F and won’t get much warmer. The damp hand delivers a new chilly flavor. Fall — autumn, if you prefer — has a two-handed hold on Ashlandia.

Pause. Let me tell you. I was most disturbed to see Trump carried my county by seven points. Like, WTF, over? Distrust of my fellow local citizens is hepped up. I don’t know what you people are thinking goes through my mind as I consider strangers and workers. You might be one of those leaning to an authoritarian state. How can I ever trust you again?

While we were talking about the 2024 election results and its impact on American values, mores, and norms, my wife brought up some history. She reminded me of the fifties and sixties in the U.S., and how many women were self-medicating to cope. Would that be repeated in this new MAGA era?

Part of that conversation impelled me into territory about how it was so widespread, it was recognized as part of popular culture in books, movies, and songs. “The Graduate.” “Mother’s Little Helper.” “Valley of the Dolls.” “Rabbit, Run.”

It’s the latter that flashes through the morning mental music stream (Trademark endangered). The Neurons have always liked the Rolling Stones’ song about pills being abused.

Here we go, another day. One step after another. Regrouping. Moving on, pressing on.

Yes, I have had coffee today. The first in over two weeks. Good to have my old friend back in my system.

Here’s the music.

Cheers

Monday’s Political Thoughts

Just a bag of trick or treat political offerings. C’mon, man, with December holiday props already up in places, I can be excused for being a few days early for Halloween, can’t I?

I know facts are not in vogue with the Grand Old Trump party. But Schwab sent me an email with links to historic data about political parties and various financial facts since 1961. People claim it’s the economy, so let’s take a look.

  1. The proferred analysis shows that what party is in charge doesn’t affect the stock markets. They keep going up no matter who is charge.
  2. GDP. If you’re worried about the GDP, go Democrat.
  3. Turning attention to the S&P 500, should that be what gives you a rash, the Democratic Party is the one for you.

As for the sectors, no rhyme and reason is found regarding the political party in charge. Check out the article for the fuller deets.

Annie shared Infidel753’s post about polls and the chance for a blue sweep. Infidel753 cautions that they might not be right, but they point out some trends, logic, and past results for why a blue wave might happen. Check it out.

The brilliant boy, Elon Musk, has the classic Trump grasp of governing. As do Trump supporters. Musk warns about some hardships trying to immediately slash the government’s burden. From what I’ve understood of the Federal budget process, Congress controls it.

“The Constitution makes clear that Congress holds the power of the purse, giving it authority “to lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises” and specifying that “No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by law.” In short, federal taxing and spending requires legislation that is enacted into law.”

As usual, the Constitution and its strictures mean nothing to the GOT Party. They just want to do what they want to do.

Vote blue. I have.

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: darkcoffeefresh

I was hoping for a sunny day outside my window. But it’s raining again. And there ain’t no sunshine.

It’s October’s final Monday. The month’s 28th day. Still 2024 for just over two more months.

Rain keeps a light, steady background staccato to the morning rituals. Clouds from mountain to mountain rule outside my window. Mountain tops wear gothic lighting as they fade behind sullen gray moisture-bearing behemoths. While it’s 42 F now, it feels like 48 F, which is the day’s hopeful high. This is this week’s weather prototype.

The cats send mixed signals about the season’s new weather setup. Papi the ginger blade goes out and endures on the covered patio in his carpeted condo. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) goes out for a test and nixes an extended stay, arthritically humping back into house’s warm offerings. Eventually Papi will beat on the door and return inside and then head to a sleeping position to pass the day. That’s become his new pattern.

Fun fact: on this day in 1886, the Statue of Liberty was unveiled. Yeah, I didn’t know; just saw it in my feed.

Another fun fact to offer: crowds didn’t stay for Trump’s speech last week in PA. The article also states, “He bizarrely walked out on stage to the Undertaker’s WWE funeral theme music, while wearing a black hat and coat.”

Yep, just the weird guy to be the POTUS.

He also lamented poor Abe Lincoln’s loss of Ted during Lincoln’s presidency. Ted: the forgotten Lincoln boy. His supporters of course, insisted that we give him a break, because he was close enough to knowing that it was Willie who died while Lincoln was in the White House.

That’s his supporters’ style: give him a break for being ‘close enough’ to things. Meanwhile, they demand perfection of Kamala Harris. Hypocrisy’s stench covers the GOP.

The Neurons are feeding me Pink Floyd as the gray light floods and stills over the day. They have “Brain Damage/Eclipse” looping the morning mental music stream (Trademark cut). I’ve always had a fondness for these songs, the first about the lunatic, the second about everything under the sun.

[Verse: Roger Waters]
All that you touch
And all that you see

All that you taste
All you feel

And all that you loved
And all that you hate
All you distrust
All you save

And all that you give (All you give)
And all that you deal (Woah)

And all that you buy
Beg, borrow, or steal (Hey-hey)

And all you create
And all you destroy (Woah)

And all that you do
And all that you say (Hey, yeah)

And all that you eat
And everyone you meet (Everyone you meet)
And all that you slight
And everyone you fight (Ho-ho-ho)

And all that is now
And all that is gone
And all that’s to come
And everything under the sun is in tune (Everything)
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

h/t to Genius.com

They do go hand in hand with thoughts of Trump these days. He’s always talking up hating, enemies, and destroying, along with everyone he meets, while we speak of all that he begs, borrows, and steals. He’s the con of the deal, the madman on the stage, offering trinkets to support him, riffing on fake history, making vainglorious claims. Really, though, the enemy within is the enemy in his head.

The cats are in and my coffee is snuggling into my body’s systems. Be strong, remain positive, and vote blue. My wife dropped off our votes at the ballot box this morning. Here’s the music.

Cheers

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

I witnessed a coffee house conversation that threatened to escalate into violence.

It was a mildly busy day as people gathered and socialized with pleasant autumn weather outside. Many were bent over phones, laptops, or notebooks.

One table hosted an octet of chatting women not far from me. Their age hovered around my own, which is to say sixty to seventy-five years young. They were mostly laughing and talking about books. Somehow their conversation rolled into the important question everyone wants to know, “How much paste should you put on your toothbrush?”

I haven’t read any books on the subject, and I didn’t study it in school, but I agreed with one brunette woman. She said, “Oh, I read that you just need a dab. Especially with an electric toothbrush.”

“No, no, no,” a red-haired woman erupted. “That is wrong. You need to cover the bristles from end to end with paste.”

Coffee shop conversations dropped off a cliff. Focus went to the table of women.

Other women at the table started disagreeing with paste woman. You’d think they were assaulting her grand toddler from her reaction. Voice rising into a screech, she declared, “No! No!” It was like she was channeling Khruschev addressing the United Nations. “The paste must be on all of the bristles! Anything else is wrong!”

I expected a duel to erupt. Pistols at twenty feet on the sunlit sidewalk outside.

Maybe she’d had too much caffeine. Maybe she didn’t have enough. The other women, wide-eyed with alarm, were backing down fast, trying to placate the redhead before she whipped out a sword to defend her toothpaste position.

Thank God they weren’t discussing politics.

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