The Trump Dream

It was a wild night of dreams. The final remembered one was one of those types of dreams where it was like a movie. I was watching and removed, but also knew myself as a character.

In this case, I as Donald J. Trump. Yes, that guy.

Except, I was a little person.

I was Donald J. Trump as a little person, mango hue and all, wearing a poorly fitting blue suit with a long red tie.

To open, there had been murders. The police were questioning me (Donald Trump) and others about the murder. I was the murderer, but I was fooling the detectives. I thought I was getting away with it. So, I turned my back to the investigative scene and smirked with pleasure because I was going free. But I still eavesdropped on what was being said behind me about possible new evidence.

I, Donald J. Trump, murderer, had overlooked some potentially incriminating evidence. But knowing where it was I quickly stole away.

Moving casually but fast, I hustled along the small town’s winding roads until I reached a broad pond with a rocky shore. Three elderly men were in a small rowboat just off shore. They were drinking whiskey from bottles. Further out on an outcrop of rocks was a clear plastic toilet bag. Inside it were some small plastic bottles. I knew my DNA was on that bag. It would link me to one of the murders.

Noises were coming up from behind. A black female detective was striding forward. I called out to the three men in the boat in my Trump voice, “Excuse me, fellows, can you do me a favor? Can you reach over to that rock, get that bag, and toss it back to me?”

Number one, I was wearing white gloves, and pointed at the bag as I spoke. Two, the men were a little inebriated. My request needed to be repeated clarified. Understanding and agreement came. They rowed over and got the toilet bag.

But the detective had come up by now. A look of pure evil overtaking my expression, I called to the men, “Just drop that in the water, okay?”

The detective called out, “That’s evidence in a murder case. Please be careful and bring it to me.”

One of the men was holding the bag aloft. He looked from me (Trump) to the detective and back to me. Then he let go of the bag.

Plop it went into the water. The men chuckled.

Smirking, I said, “Thank you, fellows,” and walked away on my short legs.

I’d gotten away with it.

Dream end.

Tuesday’s Political Thoughts

Donald Trump is cancelling things. Some reports claim it’s exhaustion.

I’m not surprised. Of course he’s feeling exhausted. He pretended to work at McDonald’s for fifteen minutes.

Snark aside — and yes, that was snark — as this article points out, he’s been canceling many interviews and appearances. Seems like he lacks energy. Not a good sign to me for someone who wants to occupy the Oval Office and its high demands.

What’s really fucking hilarious is that this poseur — that’d be Trump — has his campaign put out a statement about Kamala Harris lying about her McDonald’s employment in her youth. Isn’t it laughable how someone stages a stunt like this and lies about it, and then claims the other person is lying about? Seems like clear projection, doesn’t it?

The simple truth that Trump and his campaign are trying to hide is that he’s too old and in poor physical condition. Certainly looks too old and in poor shape, AI creations showing him as a buff individual aside. His reported diet is not one of a healthy individual. Certainly the person in that AI creation that shows Trump as a Steeler player would not be too exhausted to keep campaigning.

What is that word that Trump likes to call others? Oh, yes: LOSER. Yes, that’s it. Trump is a fake and a loser. As we close on election day and the pressure increases, he shows more and more cracks. His mask keps slipping, and he’s falling apart in the national arena.

Put a younger person in office. One not tainted by felony convictions as Trump is. One who has the energy for the job. Vote blue. Elect Kamala Harris as President of the United States.

Doublefloof

Doublefloof (floofinition) – To be guarded, blocked, outmaneuvered, or coerced by two animals working in concert.

In Use: “One famous instance of being doublefloofed was shown in Jurassic Park when two velociraptors took Muldoon.”

In Use: “A woman who rescued some kittens had the field flipped on her when they double doublefloofed her.”

Monder’s Theme Music

Mood: Mondering

Monday trotted in on rain and clouds but sunshine has made the scene. It’s October 21, 2024. Fall continues its strong run. Traditional Halloween colors dominate the landscape. Colorful leaves blanket the roads, smother the sidewalks, inundate the yards and fields. With a temperature now of 56 F, we don’t expect much more warmth today, as temperatures will sputter to a high in the low sixties. As they used to whisper in a certain set of novels and a television series predicated on those novels, “Winter is coming.”

I’m gifting today’s Monday the name of Monder, a sort of mix of Monday and wonder. As we start the week and advance toward election day — one day and two weeks away — I wonder WTF the MAGAlopes’ leader will do next to surprise and disturb the world.

News is heavy with trumpcapades. Lord, the things he does while ‘running’ for office. Put it that way because it’s more a comgedy as he embarks on surreal rifts and character assassinations, expressing little about his policy. Served fries — such a man of the people! (Yes, that is snark.) Also posted AI generated imagery of himself as a muscular, built Steeler player, a far reach from his true physique. The man’s ridiculousness and outright weirdness are deep. And yet, they’re unconsciously so very Trumpian, revealing him as a fake person, pretending to do and be things which he never was.

Having seen Project 2025 and Trump’s first term, we have some strong indicators of what his presidency would be like and why he doesn’t articulate policy positions, instead dancing around stages. We’ve been watching the right-wing stripping women’s rights, attacking the social safety net and education system, trying to homogenize the population, values, and culture into redneck vanilla while constructing the foundation for a authoritarian state. All while claiming to do what the Founders desired. Hilarious if it wasn’t so darkly surreal.

Hurricane Oscar is taking on Cuba after beating up the Bahamas, so fingers crossed for that nation and people that they come through without overly horrendous results. We’re still dealing with Milton and Helene’s aftermath in the U.S. The latest problem from the hurricanes is the rise of Vibrio vulnificus, which can lead to flesh-eating bacteria, necrotizing fasciitis, and death.

Today’s music comes off a tangent about thinking about today’s youth. Not just youth but adults. Many adults seem oblivious, disinterested, or overwhelmed with current events and history. I wonder if the youth is paying more attention. I like to hope they are. I remember myself as a youth. My world events interest was peripheral to sports, music, and reading. So I hope our youth is better than me.

Anyway, the song The Neurons fished out of memory for the moment is “Oh Very Young” by Yosuf Islam, previously known as Cat Stevens. The thoughtful but light 1974 song has taken over the morning mental music stream (Trademark young). Came out the year when I graduated. I think I still sound fresh, but then I’m pretty stale.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Coffee and I have commenced our tango. Here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Political Thoughts

Imagine this:

Donald J. Trump, former President of the United States, and Republican nominee for the office again, is holding a rally. Coming on stage to great applause, he begins by attacking someone for some reason. Then, losing interest in what he’s saying, he calls for music and begins dancing. As he dances, he strips off his clothing. While doing that, he chats about his terrific, beautiful body. His laughing crowd energetically applauds. He takes off his clothes until he is completely naked, and then dancing more.

The headlines the next day in a few places, on a few columns, read: “Donald Trump dances and strips.” Few of them ask, “Is this really someone who should be the next president?”

We don’t seem far off from this emperor-has-no-clothes scenario. Buttressed by loyalists’ support that’s mostly emotional, with little rational logic attached to it, Trump believes he can do anything and get away with it. Part of the scenario I just described took place: he stayed on stage, listening to music, and sometimes dancing, at a recent rally. He did not strip. Not yet. But I don’t think that’s far away.

Today’s edition of Trump Weirdness had him chatting about Arnold Palmer’s manhood.

Imagine the headlines we’d see if Kamala Harris came on stage and talked about another person’s genitalia as her opening remarks. And you know who would be shouting the loudest about it would be the right-wing media, the right-wing media who cannot ever say that their leader has no clothes.

Yet, thanks to Trump’s cult and undecided voters — or voters who have decided that they’re not sure that Kamala Harris is up to the task, but are certain Trump is — we have an election that’s too close to call. Or so they say. But polls, you know…

Vote blue. Please. For all of our sanity.

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Fallsundayandcoffee

Sunday, October 20, 2024 has slotted in. It’s 61 F outside and we expect a mid seventies high amid a surfeit of autumn furnishings and clouds.

We’re off to see a Halloween concert this afternoon. Rogue Valley Symphonic Band. Several friends play in the band so we go and support them. They’re usually inventive fun, although they have a new musical director, so we’re not sure what we’ll get. We’re mildly agitated that it’s so many days before Halloween. Few are in a Halloween spirit yet.

We’re also vexed that this was scheduled at the same time as Ashland’s celebration for being 150 years old. Here’s the thing about that latter; we didn’t hear any or see any advertisement for that until last week. Holy cow, an event like this, and they kept it under wraps. We asked our friends and all said, “Nope. Didn’t hear about it.” Many weren’t aware of it until we asked. My wife blames the advertising gap on the lack of a local physical newspaper. She’s been mourning the demise of the Ashland Daily Tidings since it went under. After it failed, so did the Medford Mail Tribune, causing an even larger local news gap. It’s a sigh inducing product of the modern world and electronic information age.

I’m basically over my COVab (COVID-19 vaccination shot, or jab). Jab point is still singing, “Ow. Ow. Owww.” And that arm/shoulder remains stiff as dried leather. But my energy has jumped back up and my thinking has cleared, and my appetite, which was mildly cut yesterday, has had a resurgence. In fact, I think that giving myself permission to sleep because I wasn’t feel well was beneficial overall.

My wife suggested we go east to Pittsburgh, PA, December to visit with family for the holidays. That brought a grimace to my soul. I’ve traveled during that time of year, and the ugh moments just pile up. Congestion, crowds, coughing and sneezing, weather delays. Oy. But Mom keeps aging, keeps adding on health issues, and has a new crises every several months, and time keeps on ticking. Probably a good idea. I just worry about the execution.

Today’s music came after I’d left the boudoir and was in the kitchen. “Well, here we are,” I told myself. “Another day.”

Click. The Neurons delivered the Brothers Gibb singing, “Here we are. In a room full of strangers.” As I recognized the lyrics, “Nights of Broadway” filled the morning mental music stream (Trademark bright). Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees wrote the 1975 disco song and reported that it came to him in a dream. Pretty cool, innit?

Coffee has been invited into my body, where it received a warm reception. Stay positive and remain strong. We’re almost to the election day finish line. Then it’ll all be over except for the screaming and shouting, lawsuits, accusations, commnentary and analysis. Vote blue. Here’s the music.

Cheers

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

My computer was struck by one of those scams that declare my computer was infected. Which was BS. Easy enough to spot them because they’re a phishing effort to get you to download something or call someone, and they put multiple popups up. Anyone who has dealt with a true anti-virus program and a real virus knows that’s not how these things go down.

Anyway, I use several browsers on my ‘puter. This one struck Chrome. That made it easier to get rid of. Just a quick and simple reset took care of that. Worse part of that was the time it took to reset, and it signed me out of everything. But those are small struggles compared to the annoyance of having those fake things trying to instill fear in me. See, that’s how they play: trying to make you afraid of what has happened.

Just like at a Trump rally.

Saturday’s Political Thoughts

I’m still trying to understand Trump supporters. A NYT article shows how well Trump’s fears and lies are embedded among his supporters.

From the article:

Karen Cannestra does not like that drop box in front of West Bend City Hall.

Ms. Cannestra, 72 and retired, prefers to vote at her polling place in Wisconsin on Election Day, the way it was always done. It goes beyond personal preference, she says. Who knows the motives of the person who’s pulling those ballots out at the end of the day? Couldn’t somebody tamper with the process?

Isn’t that exactly what happened in 2020, she asked, when, she felt, the election was stolen?

“I don’t trust it, the drop box,” Ms. Cannestra said, before walking into City Hall to pay a utility bill. “No, no, no.”

So, she felt the election was stolen. “Who knows the motives of the person pulling those ballots out at the end of the day?” she wonders.

As much as anything, she’s flouting her ignorance. Not only on how the voting process works, etc. She’s flouting her ignorance about what’s happened in the courts regarding the ‘election steal’. No evidence has been presented that the election was stolen. Trump’s own administration called it the most secure election ever.

But, as we see we greater scrutiny, facts don’t get in the way of Trump support.

Later in the same article…

Another man said that he believed there was “corruption” on the City Council over the issue and that the city clerk, who has local authority over drop boxes, was not doing her job.

“I think it’s absolutely appalling what’s going on in our community,” he said.

He thinks…he believes…he doesn’t cite evidence.

What’s ‘absolutely appalling’ is how Trump has convinced these people to have faith in him and turned their brains into oatmeal. They don’t trust their friends and neighbors, nor their local elected officials. Certainly, they can’t trust Democrats!

And it’s all presented without any evidence.

And likewise, later in the article…

At a rally in Dodge County this month, Sheriff Dale J. Schmidt took the stage, turning to address Mr. Trump, who was campaigning there.

“I have something very important I think you’re going to want to hear,” Sheriff Schmidt said. “In Dodge County, in this 2024 election, there are zero drop boxes for the election.”

As the crowd erupted in cheers, Mr. Trump gave a double thumbs-up.

“We’re going to make sure that we have the best, most secure election in Dodge County history,” Sheriff Schmidt said.

(Sheriff Schmidt was wrong about the number of drop boxes; several municipalities in Dodge County have them, as the clerks pointed out last week.)

You see it yet again — lies and misinformation being offered as facts to a cheering crowd. What have these people done with their thinking? All of these examples show how Trump supporters swallow lies without giving it much thought.

Mind-fucking-boggling.

Imagine the cascade of insanity that will roll across the nation if Trump returns to the White House. Please, vote blue. Save us from the ignorance of Trump supporters.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: umgagleah

Hello. Welcome to Saturday, October 18, 2024.

Beautifully autumn outside. Trees blaze, showing off fab colors. Blue sky highlights the look as the sun beams on it like a doting father. We’re up to 62 F after an overnight shift into the upper thirties. 74 F degrees is being held out a possible high.

My floofs are on this weather like children going after their Halloween candy. It’s perfect feline weather for the moment. Each boi has staked out sunny spots and are living up to their stereotypes as well-groomed, sun-loving beasts.

We received our latest COVID Jab — or COVAB, as I put to others but it’s not catching on. Went much like our first jab back into 2021. First hours, okay. Last night, the vax slammed me down and wouldn’t let me up. I crashed in a big way. Wrapped up in sheets and blankets, my head felt like a match that’d been struck and was burning. Then I spent a period of shivering uncontrollably.

After about thirteen hours of sleep, I forced myself out of bed. The cats helped. They’re like, “Dude, we must be fed and let out. Come on, get your priorities straight and get your ass out of bed.”

So I arose like a creaking suit of armor. Made my path to the kitchen where coffee was administered. Coffee is a wonder drug, don’tcha know. Anyway, I thought along the lines of being out of sync physically and mentally, a condition that borders on being called ‘sick’. The Neurons began playing Jackson Browne and “Doctor My Eyes”. Grazing through the net, I found this version from “Playing for Change”. Hope you like it.

Stay positive and test negative. Get the jab, as it will help, in the long run. Here’s the music. Where is my coffee?

Cheers

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Back in the day…

Such a broad, specific expression. Back in the day for me is specific to a time period for me and others of my age, but when you’re a different age, well, back in the day is a different time.

Quick sidebar: while the youngest generations take up the expression, or will back in the day fade away?

Well, back in the day, it was easy to keep up on the news. Read a newspaper, turn on one of the big three network’s nightly news offering, and watch the local news.

Complications arose with the information age explosion and the digital age tsunami. Suddenly, I’m clicking on a story and there’s ten thousand variations on it. What was said, who said it, and what does it mean? You click and read and click, chasing the crumbs to learn what’s right.

Tough work these days, keeping up on truth and facts, and dodging lies and misinformation.

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