It makes sense because the Trump Regime values nothing but wealth. Money money money. Gold! Look how he decorated the Oval Office with faux gold pieces. He thinks that’s impressive. “Look, it’s gold. Shiny.”
And yeah, it makes sense because the Trump Regime thinks little through. Trump farts and takes that as a divine sign that he should do something. Attack someone. Wreck a building. Steal more money. Go golfing. Lie about something. Given his behavior, he farts a lot.
If the cyberdefenses fail, there’d be widespread misery in the U.S. Trump’s actions can affect all aspects of the United States infrastructure and includes shipping, the supply chain, the power grid, business and commerce, and air travel, regardless of whether it’s a red state or blue state, regardless of how the votes went in any previous election. It’ll affect all people if those things fail, regardless of skin color, religion, or wealth. And as those things are used by the military, it impacts U.S. military readiness.
I can close by saying, what a fucking idiot. Again. What fucking idiots run that regime.
Or I can close, see? Trump hates the United States. He’s actively working to destroy it.
Fridaz political observations from the worldwide net to anger and amuse you, and one to remind you to hope.
Interesting, innit?
Outrageous. A person who never served and has no honor, denying what they earned through their service and honor. What a travesty the United States is becoming under TACO.Looks like someone visited a cheap hobby store.
That’s the level of ignorance we’re dealing with in Trump. Which really, really, really makes me wonder about his MAGA supporters. I do not question why the GOP supports him, or Project 2025, or oligarchs and billionaires. He (and his MAGAs) are very useful idiots for them.
Tell you what. I’ve just made up three new words*: ignorant, bloviating, idiot. I think they’re going to get a lot of use, especially when people think, speak, write, or remember Donald J. Trump.
*Yes, I know I didn’t make up those words. Who do you take me for? Donald J. Trump?
I decided to channel my INNER TRUMP today to write about him in the way that he texts and rants about anyone who does not either kiss his ass or assume the position to get screwed. I think it’s reasonable and appropriate to use his playground style. He’s established this level or respect, decorum, and discourse. The rest of us usually shy away from ‘stooping to his level’.
Screw that. Disrespecting and tarnishing him as he does others is all that he deserves.
A cold night surrendered to blue skies and warming sunshine. It’s 62 F now. The sun is promoting a high of 76 F. It’s said that we’ll see 81 F tomorrow. This is Munda, May 5, 2025 in Ashlandia. This is spring in Ashlandia.
Our trip last week gifted us a few things. One, my sciatica kicked in on Saturday. Too much time in a car seat. I’ve been dealing with it off and on since I was 20. I can usually feel it developing and head it off with stretching exercises. My early warning system failed me this time. I didn’t medicate but my wife suggested a Salon Pas. I slapped that thing on. I couldn’t believe the ensuing burning. I was in a recliner watching telly. The heat grew so intense, I pulled the patch off. On a whim, I popped it on my belly.
Well, call me Steve if I wasn’t surprised by the results. I suffer belly bloat. That Salon Pas patch remarkably reduced it. So I did it again yesterday. Same result. I was truly astonished and impressed and put another one on today. Only drawback from the patch at this point is hair. Yes, I’m a hairy boi. Getting that patch off required scissors and delicacy. The end result was a belly Brazil.
That’s my side. My wife could hardly get out of a chair on Friday night. She’d been complaining about pain and using different methods to address inflamation and pain. Epsom paths. Salon Pas. Valtaren. Red light therapy. Bed rest. Diet. But her weakness scared me. She’s better today but related that when we were on vacation, she worried about getting out of the bathtub. Fortunately, handles were available. Here an home, she reported a similar problem.
Her problems dig into my psyche as my sister peppers me with updates on Mom. “Mom is really debilitated. She’s confused about dates and other things.” Mom went and stayed with sis. “Mom said that she had to pee. Then she stood and began peeing. I went to help her, asking her what she needs. Mom said, I’m going to fall. I dropped everything and rushed over and caught her, keeping her from falling.” There are good answers about what to do but none are simple. Guilt spreads through me because I seem to recover. My sciatica did a quick and silent goodbye while Mom and my wife both endure. I can do little for either.
Politics again inspired The Neurons for today’s music. A conversation with my wife was the catalyst. She was reading about Conservatives complaining that the root of all of today’s problems in the USA is letting white women go to college and having the right to vote. Apparently, all those women going to college are getting liberal arts degrees and daring to think, and college screws up their thinking.
Like, WTF, seriously? Do those men really believe that? Pretty damn galling to that these people, these obviously sexist and biased shallow thinkers, think they have the right to deprive others of rights.
Included in the responses was a woman being interviewed. She said she could never vote for a woman to be POTUS. Because of hormones. What? Yes, because of hormones. If they’re going through menopause, their mood will change and they’ll go off and start a war.
The male interviewer responded, “But haven’t all the wars been started by men so far?”
The woman went wide eye and still. The video ended.
Talking about this thread of crazo thinking, we remarked, so many people underestimate others’ contributions. Maybe they learn and forget.
And that encouraged The Neurons to begin The Who and “Eminence Front” in the morning mental music stream.
Drinks flow People forget That big wheel spins, the hair thins People forget Forget they’re hiding The news slows People forget Their shares crash, hopes are dashed People forget Forget they’re hiding
Off to drink more coffee and employ my neurons in some writing. Hope your energy is up and pulls you safely through another day. Here’s the music. Cheers
The week’s days have puddled together in a limpid pool of memory. I organize a flock of Neurons into enough intelligence to figure out that it’s Frieda. Part of the process is done using the Fitbit on my wrist. It tells me that it’s March 28, 2025. By going backward through the week’s blizzard of news and activities, I reach my conclusion.
Alexa tells me that it’s rainy in Ashland, forty rainy seven degrees with a high of fifty rainy two expected, and a chance of showers. Sunlight boils through my windows, mocking that weather forecast, further confusing my coffeeless Neurons. The weather likes teasing me, mystiying me about how to dress and challenging me to reconsider my plans. I think it’s mean of the weather but I don’t voice that thought. That would just make the weather mad.
A mystery has the household in a tizzy. My wife announced, “I found one of those little microfiber cloths for glass in a package when I was cleaning. I thought I’d put it in the office by my chair so I can clean off my glasses. I must clean them five times a day.”
I’m half listening, half reading, so I deploy supportive husband speak. “Good idea.”
“But it’s gone. I can’t find it.”
I remembered seeing it, too. We talk about our memories of seeing the cloth, when and where, like it’s a wake. We search the area where it was last seen, the laundry room counter used as the cat food service station. Nope, not there. Nor on the floor or behind the dryer. Things fall behind the dryer. I want to install a shelf across that space. I proposed that solution the year we moved into the house in 2006. I suggested it again last night. “Let me think about it,” my wife replies in throughful wife speak, the response first given in 2006. I mentally shrug. If the cloth is behind the dryer, I’m not getting it.
A cursory flashlight search behind the dryer shows nothing. We walk around, combing through other potential places, wondering, where did it go? It’ll turn up someday, we finally decide, quitting. Then a new mystery will start: how did it get there?
PINO Trusk’s number one component, Donald J. Trump, has inspired The Neurons again today. Thinking about how he’s wrecking the world through his prejudice and ignorance, Der Neurons cranked up the 1978 song, “Godzilla” by Blue Oyster Cult, in the morning mental music stream. The latest trigger about my irritation with the mango beast came from Trump targeting ‘improper ideology’ at the Smithsonian Institution. Avoiding laws, debate, popular opinion, etc., he’s using his favorite tool of destruction, an executive order.
Weirdly, Trump’s prejudice against the Federal government’s role in places like the Smithsonian Institution can be traced directly back to the Smithsonian Institutions origins in 1836.
Conservatives and champions of states’ rights, such as John C. Calhoun of South Carolina, argued the federal government did not have the right to establish a national institution, conduct scientific research, or promote knowledge. Federalists and northerners, led by the learned and well-traveled John Quincy Adams, maintained that it was in the nation’s best interest in many ways. Happily, they won out.
As many, including me, note about Trump, the Trusk Regime, Project 2025, and MAGAts, their idea of progress is by going back to the 1800s.
The Neurons created an alternate version of first lines, featuring Trumpzilla and what he’s doing. Did this while making breakfast, so, yes, as little thought as you can imagine was actually engaged.
With a golfer’s grimace and a terrible sound, he pulls the United States government down.
Helpless people around the nation curse his name as he looks in on them.
He picks up a club and throws it back down as he leaves the course and heads for lunch again.
Oh no, they say he’s got to go, go, go Trumpzilla.
If you’re familiar with the song, I naturally had to address the closing lyrics as well.
History shows again and again How politics points up the folly of man Trumpzilla!
Okay, off I go. Coffee and I met a match in each other once again. Hope your day brings you some good cheer and satisfaction. Cheers
Images of “Enola Gay,” the aircraft that dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima in Japan are among those targeted by the U.S. military in an initiative to eliminate content related to diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI).
They are among a number of photos unrelated to DEI that have been mistakenly flagged, including those from an Army Corps of Engineers dredging project in California, seemingly because an engineer in the image had the last name “Gay.”
I mean, how, how, how amazingly ignorant is the Trusk Regime? How stupid is DOGE?
Beyond the fundamental stupidity of making a decision based on a single word, they are demonstrating amazing ignorance about our heritage. Our history.
Does that history matter to them? No, apparently not.
And that really brings the Trusk Regime’s crock of shit about ‘gay’, DEI, woke into an electron microscope level of insights. Our history is being denied based on some shallow, closed minds? They’ll deny the role of an aircraft in our history because of a single word, literally one of the most critical moments in modern human history, the one and only damn time when one nation used atomic or nuclear weapons on another nation? What are they going to do, rewrite the textbooks so that Colonel Paul Tibbets and his crew flew an unnamed aircraft on that historic mission? How much of a disservice is it to not just the crew that flew that machine but the enemy killed on the ground?
That’s just the damn bottom of the barrel, though. The Trusk Regime and the GOTP is trying to deny the role of anyone who does not fit their narrow, bigoted views. Gay, trans, lesbian military members who fought for the United States are being washed out of history by this pathetic group, most of whom never servedin a military capacity.
Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. But those who deliberately wipe it out are bent on creating a new circle of ignorance.
But, I mean, come on. Seriously. What did we expect of ol’ Bone Spurs Trump? His grip on history and logic is pathetically weak.
Good morning’! Welcome to Sunda, Jan. 26, 2025. We’re closing out 2025’s first month, and what a first month it’s been!
Here in Ashland, we have…drum roll, please…blue skies and sunshine again. Current temp is 33 F and the ever present ‘they’ are speaking of highs in only the upper forties. A stout wind carrying wintry shards have cranked up. It’s moanin’, groanin’, and hissin’, while tossin’ loose things around like an irritated gorilla.
Today’s song emerged because I was singing “Hash Pipe” to myself. “Hash Pipe” is a 2001 Weezer song. Its first vocal line is sang in descending notes. The words go, “I can’t help myself, I go out of my mind.”
Hearing that, The Neurons unburied a point about those lyrics. They’re lifted from a Beatles song, “You Can’t Do That”, from 1964. Pivoting with that, Der Neurons filled my morning mental music stream with the Beatles’ song.
Sing along with me.
“So please listen to me if you want to stay mine. “I can’t help my feelings, I go out of my mind. “I’m going to let you down and leave you flat. “I told you before, oh, you can’t do that.”
Never bought it, but I know the song well.
“Hash Pipe” was being sung because of a NYTimes Tale. I read a piece about MAGA folks and where they thought Trump was leading them. They were interviewed after the inauguration. Man, talk about a misinformed, misguided bunch. Even after all these years of exposure to their many instances of ignorance, I’m still shocked when I encounter it. For instance, here’s a woman from PA:
We are so divided. It’s scary. Scary for the kids that are growing up, like my grandkids. I don’t like the way this country’s turned — all this woke stuff. Stuff that the kids shouldn’t be exposed to. I think I was 18 before I knew that there was gay people, you know? I listened to Queen. I didn’t know he was gay.
Amish came out in Pennsylvania. They came out in droves. They came out in their horse and buggies. It was incredible. So that’s a united country again. We’re tired of being lied to.
I infer from what she said that she thinks Trump speaks truth. *head shake*
Beyond that example, they demonstrate no idea how tariffs, the economy, or energy production and prices work. They believe all those things Trump says he’s doing with his magic pen. They believe this, of course, because they’re fully wired into right-wing news sources. So even when inflation doesn’t drop, prescriptions drug prices increase, unemployment rises, food shortages spread, and pollution mars our land, water, and air, they’ll be blissfully touting all the great things Trump is doing.
That is part of the big picture. Create a right-wing media that disparages the left and praises the right without regard to the truth or facts. Dismantle the education system so people no longer know history, economics, science, and government. Shutter transparency on the government by firing inspectors and dismantling agencies. Crush opposition so there are no dissenting voices. Teach the big lies in church as part of their religious worship. And of course, keep ’em soaking in fear: fear of what the left is doing by mislabeling Democrats as socialists and communists, which are dirty words in the right-wing. Keep ’em in fear by lying to them about what the LGBTQ+ community does to their children. Fuel their fear with worries about immigrants taking their jobs and eating their pets.
The transformation will be complete, and Trump voters will never know. They’ll go down, whining about increased prices, high unemployment, dirty air, and so on, without ever understanding how they were part of it, how they were duped and used. It’s a con on a national scale.
And that’s why “Hash Pipe” was being sung. There’s a chorus about being kicked in the song.
Oh, come on and kick me Oh, come on and kick me (Whoa) Come on and kick me You’ve got your problems (Whoa) I’ve got my eyes wide (Whoa) You’ve got your big G’s I’ve got my hash pipe
h/t to Bing.com
See, those GOTP supporters are asking to be kicked. But that’s okay. They got their hash pipe. In their case, their hash pipe is the fear hatred that fuels their bitterness, sexism, and racism; or entertainment like video games, television shows, sporting events, and movies that keep ‘em distracted. Meanwhile, reality will keep kicking them, and they won’t fuckin’ know it.
Ignorance is truly bliss.
Coffee and I have are into another one-morning stand. Here’s the music. Hope you have a strong day. Please, don’t ever turn your back on the truth. Here we go with some music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 