Tag: Information

Thirstdaz Theme Music

It’s fallish out there in the autumn style. Clouds hug the sky for miles and miles. Bringing darkness and an offer of rain. There’s a chance tomorrow we might do it again.

52 F now, 62 F is the suggested high at almost every oracle. 80% chance of rain. Doesn’t stop Papi from going in and out and out and in. He’s looking for that sunshine’s warm embrace and refuses to believe it’s not there. Now he’s curled up in a chair.

This is Thirstda, October 9, 2025. Winter is coming. So are the holidays.

Read that Trump is to undergo a medical exam. This CBS headline tells it all.

Trump to have “routine yearly checkup” 6 months after annual physical exam

Wouldn’t surprise me to read after the exam, “Why he’s the healthy person the world has ever seen. Such muscles! He’s so lean and fit and active and athletic, he could run a marathon, not just run it, but win.” Such is the Trump Regime that lies and bullshit are their expected output.

My wife and I were in conversation this morning. I finished my end by proclaiming with a laugh, “That’s just my style.”

The Neurons pounced like a kitten on a leaf. “She’s Just My Style” began filling the morning mental music stream. Familiar with it? It’s a 1965 hit in the U.S. by Gary Lewis & the Playboys. I would’ve been nine at its release. But AM radio was in its heyday and so was pop. I won’t hazard a guess how many times I heard that song back in the day. Haven’t heard it in yonks since.

Coffee has made its way through my mouth and esophagus and is engaging with Les Neurons. Hope peace and grace make its way to you and the rest of the world today. Now, hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to write I go. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

One must wonder…

Read articles about Trump’s speech to assembled Navy sailors to celebrate the Navy’s 250 years in existence. But first, damn, this person who used deferments five-times to avoid serving in the military loves to strut around in front of the military as political capital, doesn’t he?

Trump Gave a Partisan Speech to Navy Sailors, to Mixed Reactions

Here’s one reaction which I read that dismayed me.

Why is this young woman in the military? Maybe just to have a job, perhaps to see the world, or possibly to get an education. Is she aware that if Trump’s Dept. of War Secretary had his way, females’ roles would be severely curtailed in the military? Maybe she does know. Perhaps Josie Reyna agrees, women should not be in combat roles because they’re not as good as men, in Hegseth’s opinion.

Also, I wonder if she sincerely thinks sending military forces to U.S. cities, using military force on U.S. citizens is ‘doing what’s right’? Either way, she puts a low value on ‘great’.

Trump is quoted from the same event.

Reflecting on the strength of the U.S. Navy over its 250 years of service, Trump said, “The instant a US carrier, cruiser, or destroyer breaks across the horizon, every tyrant and adversary on the planet knows their choice is very simple: it’s leave America in peace, or be blown up in fire and fury never seen before.”

Yet, he’s acting like an absolute dictator himself. So, every tyrant doesn’t know that they need to be leave America in peace. Trump is aggressively pursuing military action against U.S. citizens. Through his militant behavior against Democrats, he acts like he wants civil war. It’s quite fucking insane but aligns perfectly with the GOP’s broken policies and lack of principles.

Trump went on to disparage Democrats, of course, and lie some more.

Trump described Democrat leaders, who have refused to pass a continuing resolution to fund the government, as a “little gnat that’s on our shoulder.” The president explained that while Democrats “want to give all of our money to illegal aliens that pour into the country,” he has “pledged the largest ever investment in our military’s history.”

That’s not what Democrats want at all. And who is ‘our shoulder’? He’s supposed to be the President of the United States, not the POTUS of half or a third. This is how he sows and deepens the divisions afflicting our nation. Trump’s ‘leadership’ reminds me of a joke.

All the organs were deciding who should be the boss….

“I should be in charge,” said the brain. “I do all the thinking. Without me nothing would happen.”

“I should be in charge,” said the heart. “I circulate oxygen and nutrients all over.”

“No! I should be in charge,” said the stomach. “I process the food that gives us energy.”

“I should be in charge,” said the eyes, “I can where we’re going.”

“I should be in charge,” said the anus. “I am responsible for waste removal.”

All of the other body parts laughed at the anus and insulted him. So he shut down. Within a few days, the brain had a terrible headache, the stomach was bloated, the legs got wobbly, the eyes got watery, and the heart pumped toxic blood. They all decided that the anus should be the boss.

The moral of the story is that you don’t need brains, heart, guts, or vision to be a leader. Just be an asshole.

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The Hair Dream

I was the new guy in a small group of males. Basically smartasses and lower class with leanings toward crime and goofing off, I don’t know how I met them but was hanging around with them. They kept discounting me and making fun of me. I decided changes were needed and thought the way to do that was with my hair. So off I went to get dreadlocks.

A stylist eagerly did as I asked. I emerged with long black dreadlocks when I’d had brown hair before, with the crown being literally a crown of short dreads.

I went back and joined the group at a short track where a car race was scheduled to take place. All were surprised and taken back. One or two made fun of me for it. Then we split up. Most headed in to watch the race but one other and I stayed back, sort of watching the group’s belongings in a small corner by a counter. Catching my image in a mirror, I was horrified. “I look terrible,” I said. “Ridiculous. What was I thinking?”

The other guy, a short, white almost bald fellow said, “Well, I admire what you did. Took balls. I respect that.”

“Really? But it looks like crap.”

“Yes, but you did something.”

I met a woman who wanted to go into the track but wasn’t certain how to go about it. I asked where she wanted to go in there. “By turn two,” she answered. “Come on,” I said, “I’ll take you there.”

I took her in through the crowd. As I did, a young black woman paused to tell me with a wide smile, “I really like your hair.”

“Thanks,” I answered, pleased, amused. Showing the woman to turn two, I moved back through the crowd to the outside. Another young black woman accosted me, saying, “Nice hair.”

I encountered a white female friend as I left the race track. “What did you do to your hair?” she asked.

“I know,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m going to see if it can be fixed.” But I was thinking, it’ll probably need to be cut. Then it’ll take a long time to grow back. While this went through my head, a young black woman said, “I’m sorry but I overheard what you said. I hope you don’t change your hair. I think it looks really good on you.”

Dream end.

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Gesfloofilate

Gesfloofilate (floofinition) – 1. Using non-verbal language to emphasize commands or orders given to animals. Origins: circa 1809, Flooftin roots, gesfloofulatus.

In Use: “Finding the cat on the kitchen counter preparing to take some cooling bacon, Cory shouted “No, Trouble, get down,” and gesfloofilated by snapping her fingers and stamping a foot.”

2. Non-verbal motions animals employ to ask favor or help from humans.

In Use: “Stopping by Josh’s desk, Suggs gesfloofilated for attention with a wagging tail and raised ears and paw.”

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

It’s a rockandroll Wenzda in October. October 8, 2025. Another exemplary weather day for fall to show off its colors in Ashlandia. Will be about 80 F again today, though it’s 57 now, with a puppy’s nip to the air. Papi goes out and finds sunshine for his post-breakfast grooming. His orange glows in the sunshine.

The Epstein Shutdown of 2025 continues. Many also call it the Smirkers Shutdown, because Jeffrey Epstein and Donald Trump were often smirking when they were together, as in the photo below. Reminder, it’s a weak president that lets the government shut down. So said the current POTUS in past years. This is Trump’s third shutdown, revealing him as the weakest of the weakest. Also the most cowardly. Worst negotiator in history, too. Only thing that works for him is bullying and lying. But being so weak and cowardly, he’d rather have the government shut down rather than having it revealed what’s in the Epstein Files.

Donald Trump, first on the left, and Jeffrey Epstein, second from the right, the smirkers behind the shutdown.

I’ve been re-watching an old favorite television show called Foyle’s War. The series stars Michael Kitchen as Detective Chief Superintendent Christopher Foyle. A widower with a son who joins the RAF, DCS Foyle lives and works in Hastings, investigating crimes.

Last night’s episode was about a murder in 1941 that comes after German aircraft bomb England. One bomber is shot down. Several crew members parachute to safety. We’re introduced to women working in the land army for an older farmer who is mean and spiteful. He’s killed. Foyle investigates. The Germans are captured. Foyle has a run-in with the major who collects the Germans for interrogation, etc.

After Foyle reveals all going on at the show’s end, the major apologizes to Foyle. Going on, the major explained that he lived in Heidelberg for a year. Knew many Germans. Found them gracious, civilized, etc. Foyle responds with an anecdote. A British police football team went to Germany in 1936 to play a German team. The Germans met the British, took them out for a good meal, dancing, celebrating, drinking. The next day, the British team, hungover, on little sleep, met a German team that they’d never seen before. The German team had not gone out drinking but had been in bed by ten PM. Foyle concluded, “The Germans are playing a different game, and it’s not cricket.”

As I think about a lot of things happening in the United States, that’s come to mind many times. The Republicans are playing a different game. Their goals and rules have changed. People like me are stilling playing the same game as before. That’s why the GOP keep piling up wins. Part of their changes include ignoring the will of We the People, and ignore laws, norms, history, and precedence. Those changes are anti-American to me. Yet, this is the GOP game under Trump, a culmination of a process begun decades ago, when Fox began actively functioning as a political news outlet.

Today’s song is “Boys Don’t Cry” by The Cure. It’s a dream’s outgrowth. I don’t see its connection with the dream’s contents. Seeing it differently, I guess, The Neurons plugged it into the morning mental music stream.

Coffee is being served to The Neurons. Hope peace and grace awaken and rise like a phoenix. Fingers crossed, right? Meanwhile, let’s all do the best we go. Here I go. Cheers

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

A high school couple were seated beside me at the coffee shop. I began by writing, ‘a young high school couple’, but isn’t that redundant? It does stimulate a story beginning: ‘An old high school couple sat beside me discussing their course workload and death choices.” Don’t know where it advances from there.

This HS couple rose to leave. She made a comment about Pink Floyd. He, looking directly at me, replied, “I know. Dark Side of the Moon is such an amazing album.”

I thought, funny, but I was about their age when that album was released. About their age when I went to a concert and witnessed Pink Floyd performing songs from Dark Side of the Moon.

I said nothing back, but I was pleased. It’s good to learn that appreciation for some things goes on.

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Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

This is a first world issue. First world blues. It’s about the ‘do-nothing’ loop. And enshittification.

We have an Epson printer. Bought it about a year ago. Replaced the big old Brother printer we’d had for over a decade. We often struggled with it. No; it often struggled to do what we wanted it to do. We wanted it to print on demand. We thought that’s what it was designed to do. Now I know otherwise. These printers aren’t designed to print. They’re designed to bring in revenue as products when they’re sold. After that, fuck you, you’re on your own.

So, Yellow-Magenta-Cyan are not printing on the Epson. That’s essentially the basis of color printing. I’ve gone through updates. Nozzle power cleans. Test printing to a sickening point. Nothing changes the YMC outcome. Yes, there’s ink in there. First thing I checked.

The enshittification really begins with the support. It’s a beautiful do-nothing loop. If it doesn’t print, clean nozzles. Then test. If it doesn’t print again, turn off for twelve hours. Try again. Here are some more helpful things.

None of the ‘more helpful things’ offer an iota of help. They’re just not what’s going on with our printer. And clicking on some just take me

Okay, let’s ask them for support. To get support, I need to the serial number.

Where is the serial number?

On the bottom of the printer, of course!

It’d be too damn easy to put it on the front, top, rear, or other two sides. No, no, no, let’s go full enshittification. Let’s put it on the bottom. Because, see, printers have ink. They shouldn’t be turned upside down. So, that makes it very difficult to get the serial number required for support, so win-win for them, they save on support costs!

What enshittification geniuses!

Hmmm, let me see what AI says about turning my printer upside down.

WTF kind of answer is that, oh great AI?

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The Indicators Dream

I don’t know what age I was supposed to be in this dream. I felt younger, maybe in my early middle age. Anyway, I arrived at this cluttered, jumbled location. Busy with people, we were being asked to make choices. Like many others that I overheard and witnessed, I didn’t understand exactly what was going on. Acting on haste, I checked some small pails.

The pails were plastic and different colors, like red, blue, yellow, green. They reminded me of pails which children use in a sandbox or at the beach.

In these pails were some sort of small black squares. Each had tiny white letters and numbers but were mostly blank. Nobody seemed very sure about what they were or what we were supposed to do with them, but everyone was certain that we were supposed to take some. I wasn’t sure how many to take but grabbed eight. Then, following the flow of people doing who had also made their choices, I went along the line until we came to a long messy table, one of many. Above the table, three slender, black metal slats ran parallel to the table. Many already had multiple black squares attached to them. With observation and trial and error, I discovered the metal squares were magnetic and that we were supposed to attach them to the slats. Okay, I did that.

When I did, the black squares became alive with information. Watching, I realized that they were displaying information about the people who put them up, like, for me, as example. Each black square was giving out vital signs about different body functions, is how it first appeared. Most accepted that but I saw that some were just displaying dates, but not in the usual format. Pressing the dated squares showed me events from that day. As I did that, I began understanding that the white letters and numbers gave information about what was embedded and contained codes and patterns.

Assimilating this, I began excitedly talking about my realizations. Other people were disinterested, dismissing the squares. But I grasped that the squares’ functions were actually based on their relationship and placement with each other. Calling them indicators, I started telling people, “Don’t you see? If you can go back and find the right indicators for yourself, you can know your full history. Not only that, but it can also show the future for each of us.”

Moving the squares around showed me that I was right. Pressing back against the crowd, I tried to go back to the buckets to look for better black squares.

Dream end.

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