Some sampling from Bluesky on Sunday, September 20, 2026.
A Bluesky View
Saturday’s Theme Music — Talking
Ashland, southern Oregon. Saturday, September 19, 2026.
Summer is serving up a last hurrah, taking us into the high 80s today and low 90s tomorrow. Sunshine crowns the multi-colored trees and serves up against a deep blue sky.
I’m going to pass on writing about Trump and politics today, so it’ll be a short post.
Today’s music is “Talk of the Town”. It’s in the morning mental music stream after friends and I were talking about the plight of the bears here in southern Oregon. “Talk of the Town” is a 1980 song by the Pretenders. If I was writing about the current national situation, it would be a good song for today.
Sample Lyrics
The rules and such never bothered you
You call the shots and they follow
May this day and every day find you safe, free, healthy and happy.
Cheers
The Madness of Trump America
First, a few quotes to remind us who Trump is, in his own words.
On to the circus…
Wenzdaz Wandering Political Thoughts
Every time that I think that the Trump Regime can’t piss me off, they sink to lower levels.
Trump Administration Cuts Cyberdefense Even as Threats Grow
Like, WTF. Then, oh, yeah. That makes sense.
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.
But really, it’s clearly both.
Fridaz Wandering Political Thoughts
A reminder that the law-and-order crowd do nothing to further law and order. It’s all a scam they’re running on gullible people.
And Trump reveals, he does see himself as a weak President.
How the world views Trump.
Actions shout the truth. It’s not about ‘America First’.
Talk about fraud, waste, and abuse. That’s exactly what the Trump Regime is.
Fridaz Wandering Political Thoughts
Fridaz political observations from the worldwide net to anger and amuse you, and one to remind you to hope.
Interesting, innit?
More Wandering Political Thoughts
Trump claimed he made up the word ‘equalizing’.
Donald Trump claims he invented ‘the best word.’ It’s been around since 1599
On Monday, the president claimed he invented a “new word” while talking about his proposal to lower drug prices by 80%.
“Basically, what we’re doing is equalizing. There’s a new word that I came up with, which is probably the best word,” he said.
“We’re gonna equalize where we’re all gonna pay the same. We’re gonna pay what Europe’s gonna pay …” he continued.
But “equalize” didn’t just enter the English vocabulary on Monday.
According to Webster’s dictionary, “equalize” was first used in 1599.
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?
Twosda’s Wandering Political Thoughts
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.
Munda’s Theme Music
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
h/t to Americansongwriter.com
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
Frieda’s Theme Music
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
