Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
The net has a few comments catching my attention today.
It is January 6 and we have the fifth anniversary of Trump’s first attempted coup to remember.
MPS offers a succinct reminder.
Never forget that Republicans voted for this. Three times. That’s your root-cause analysis right there.
Twozda arrived on January 6, 2026 looking for all the world like it was December of 2025. It’s the same greyness which tamped down spirits and kept us chilly, forcing us to turn on the lights during the day and keep the heat running. Temperatures dance the spectrum from 38 F at my house to 41 according to Alexa with Microsoft announcing 47 F. Southern Oregon University comes in with 40.5 F.
My wife joins me at the window. “Are we in it yet?”
“I don’t know.”
She’s referring to the winter storm we’ve been warned about. Located in a protective valley, Ashland’s zone warns snow is expected above 2000 ft in Jackson County with total accumulations up to 6 inches. My house is at 2100 ft, so we in wait and watch mode.
As uncertain as the weather comes more political news. The Trump administration announced they’re withholding social services funds for five states, all of which happen to have Democratic Party leadership. Here I was, nursing the impression that we’re a nation who harbors an all for one and one for all mentality.
Actions like this from Trump undermines our unity. He does so without offering evidence other than a announcement that there’s fraud.
Not offering any evidence is the Trump way. No evidence was ever offered that the boats he ordered to be destroyed carried any drugs. They were destroyed on Trump’s insistence that they carried fentanyl and other narcotics.
As others noted, although Trump kept insisting that Venezuela and President Maduro were involved in transporting fentanyl to the United States, fentanyl wasn’t mentioned in the charges against Maduro and his wife.
After reading the news about Trump’s activities, my mood was cratering. Fortunately, Papi the ginger blade and The Neurons rescued me. Fresh in from the cold weather, I offered Papi, “Treat?” All signs pointed to “Yes!” as his tail went straight up, his back arched, and happiness glinted in his amber gold eyes.
Laughing, I provided the treats. As Papi gobbled them up, I joked about our home being his treat shack.
In a cosmic flash, The Neurons brought “Love Shack” by the B-52’s into the morning mental music stream. I didn’t mind at all. That jaunty 1989 rocker about a funky little place where people went to have fun and socialize is the perfect antidote to the blues attempting to take over. Singing and dancing and a general elevation of spirits can’t be denied when I hear it.
Once again, I put out hope that peace and grace arise to counter what’s happening to our nation and the world. Perhaps we coffee and time, we will prevail. Cheers
My wife came in, sighed, and gave a book report. She reads a lot — over one hundred novels in 2025. I read but not nearly as much, in large part because I write fiction.
I often hear two or three book reports a day from her. Today’s report launched from a familiar sore spot for her.
“Well, I’m enjoying this book, but. I have nine pages left. I know that they’re not going to wrap this story up in nine pages. Not if it’s going to make sense. That means there’s a sequel, a book two, maybe more. Why do they do this? It should be illegal. It should be a crime. If you write a book, it should have an ending, not another thousand book to read.”
Report finished, she stalked back out. A minute later, I heard her singing and cleaning the kitchen. She gets angry about it but at this point, she’s resigned to the situation. I don’t think it’ll be much longer before she begins confirming that the book has an ending before she begins reading it.
We all have our limits.
Munda, January 5, 2026. Fog imposes a grey, wet-looking wall beyond the houses and trees across the street. 37 F is shown on the thermometer and forecasts call for rain and snow, with a ceiling of 38 F forecast. Looks like winter is finally taking an interest in Ashlandia.
I will note that a friend in Alaska was raving about her weather, displaying a thermometer that said it was -2 degrees F. That was the high. She insisted that she prefers it when it stays cold and frozen. According to her, the cycle of warming, melting, and re-freezing is much worse than a steady, consistent freeze. I’ll take her word on that.
My wife and I have been concerned about weather. Videos of king waves slashing the coast and heavy rains and flooding up north and down south worry us. People have been enduring so much foul weather. We’ve been spared but watching the situation, it feels like the storms were slowly pinching in around us. My conspiratorial mind, where I go to harvest ideas, whispers, maybe somebody is controlling the weather.
As we slink into 2026’s first Munda, we’re coping with news that another friend suddenly passed from cancer. More details aren’t yet known. Like Steve, who passed last year, this was another individual we saw at the lake with friends last summer. He seemed fine at the time and didn’t mention any health issues. Just another shock to the system in a cascade of shocks.
As I perused news and texted Mom and Dad’s widow about matters, I told myself to try to be more upbeat and optimistic this week. Weather and the general news tone levels a heavy burden, though.
Considering the weather, I find myself reflecting about Dad more. Born in the 1930s, Dad lived and worked in multiple states and every region. Dad was born in Pennsylvania. Mom was from Iowa, and he met her in either Minnesota or Nebraska.
After my parents married, they lived in Virginia, Texas, and California. He and I lived in West Virginia and Ohio. He was also stationed in the south and in New York and Indiana. Then he moved to Texas and met his third wife, and stayed in Texas.
A poker and pool fan, Dad enjoyed renting an RV and driving from San Antonio in Texas to Laughlin, Reno, and Las Vegas, Nevada. He also rented an RV to visit his other son in Utah. Then the RV was turned east and Dad visited his brother in Kentucky. The next leg was a drive to Georgia so Dad could visit his daughter and grand- and great-grandchildren.
Dad’s wife didn’t go with him. She’d fly to each place and return home! Oh, it’s all so funny to me, and remembering lifts my spirits.
While trying to adjust my mood today, The Neuron suggested a song called “Old Time Rock and Roll”. Bob Seger recorded and released it in 1978. Nothing particularly called me specifically from the lyrics. I appreciate the song’s beat and energy. It’s a good rhythm in the morning music mental stream to kickstart my energy. I’ll also drink some coffee, which will also help.
Hope your day is brighter and warmer than mine. May peace and grace lift your spirits and give us all a shot of optimism. Cheers
Trump’s Regime began 2026 by attacking Venezuela and forcibly removing President Nicolas Maduro to bring him to the United States to stand trial.
Three big concerns rise in my thinking regarding this travesty.
Many other concerns arise in the wake of Trump’s military action, but I’m limiting my reflections for now. What he’s done angers me. Republicans apparently support this, without evidence, dismaying me and my belief in our checks and balances system.
The GOP likes to label themselves as the ‘law-and-order’, so they support Trump’s supposed arrest of this dictator. Yet, recent history paints the GOP as anything but law and order. One prominent example is the events of January 6, 2021.
Trump and other Republicans have called referred to January 6 protestors as peaceful or patriots. During that protest, government buildings were damaged, the peaceful protestors attacked Capitol Police officers, and the protestors threatened lawmakers and disrupted the process to certify the election results, all to keep Trump in office after he’d lost the 2020 elections.
So I have a jaundiced view of the GOP’s interpretation of law or order. Trump’s attack on Venezuela further undermines the GOP’s law and order stance. Trump is attempting to justify his attack on another nation as citing stories from Colorado about gang activity. Other than those gangs being Venezuelans, his claims aren’t germane. They’re political spin to give cover for what he did. He’s trying to conflate scary ideas about gang violence with international drug trafficking. The two matters are not legally related.
Right wing blogs are also working hard to give Trump cover. First they denigrate ‘the left’s’ reactions, predicting that people who aren’t right-wing or conservatives will begin declaring the Venezuelan ‘dictator’ is a saint. It’s amusing that they declare President Maduro to be a dictator.
The rising hypocrisy appalls me. People declaring Maduro to be a dictator that needed to be remove cite that he’s blocked, weakened, or bypassed legislation. Under Maduro’s rule, the Supreme Tribunal of Justice has persecuted and imprisoned political opposition. People argue, this damages a key pillar of democracy — judicial independence.
Critics further claim, Maduro harassed and threatened the press and freedom of expression. Crackdowns with security forces were ordered against protestors. Maduro’s police force often detained demonstrators.
Finally, the checks and balances provided by the government’s structure has been diluted as power has been consolidated in the executive branch.
Let’s contrast those actions with Trump’s 2025 actions. Trump threatened to revoke networks’ licenses because they were broadcasting news unfavorable to Trump. With pressure from Trump, comedian Jimmy Kimmel was suspended from his role as a late-night host because Kimmel’s comments offended Trump.
Trump sued or threatened to sue media outlets, including the BBC; New York Times; CBS, Paramount, and Sixty Minutes; the Washington Post; ABC News; and CNN. There’s been no mirror condemnation by those critics of President Maduro over Trump’s actions.
Trump deployed ICE and National Guard units against protestors in Los Angeles, Portland (OR), Chicago, and Washington D.C., among others. Protestors have been detained.
Trump also had immigrants arrested and departed by his declaration they’re illegal without judicial overview. Some early cases involving these cases found his administration caught lying to the courts and ignoring court orders. Please explain to me how this doesn’t weaken the judicial oversight needed for a strong democracy.
Finally, Trump pushed executive actions to bypass congressional or judicial oversight (e.g., unilateral actions around ICE, immigration, media lawsuits). He ordered the DOJ and federal agencies to launch investigations into James Comey and Letitia James that were clearly political. Those cases were dismissed.
If you think about the right-wing’s complaints about Maduro, it’s hard to understand why they like and support Trump.
Papi the ginger wonder was beating on the front door. Technically, it wasn’t the front door but the narrow vertical window alongside the door. Seeing me approaching, he opened up and let out an indignant meow.
“Okay, okay,” I said, letting him in. Papi dashed past towards his refueling station like an Indy 500 pit stop. As I shut the door, I saw a flyer hanging from the knob.
I walked into the office reading the flyer. “This was on the front door. It’s about a church grand opening.”
My wife answered, “I don’t think we’re interested in that. We’re not church people.”
“I know but I want to know what church it is. Huh, it’s on Siskiyou. It’s a Baptist Church.”
A chortle spilled from my wife. “Oh, hell no. I’m a recovering southern Baptist. No way I’m setting foot in that place.”
While out shopping yesterday, my wife and I took a break and had dinner out. Our waiter introduced himself as Zack and displayed charm, humor, and natural friendliness. We’ve eaten at this place regularly, so we quickly ordered and off Zack went.
Our salads were brought and eaten. Then we waited Zack kept coming by, asking, need more beer, more bread, or anything else? We smiled, turned everything down, and waited for our meal.
When it finally arrived, Zack grinned. “I’m sorry it took so long. I was getting worried.”
I replied, “You were getting worried? I was asking myself, what did that Zack do with our order?”
Zack rewarded me by doubling up in laughter.
Eating oatmeal remains a little messy and problematic. It almost slipped off the spoon and down my chin.
Wait, I should set it up right: I’m talking about reverse days. That clarifies it, doesn’t it?
Maybe if I go further back, this will begin making sense.
I’m right-handed. Years ago, I decided that I would be right-handed on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I’d be left-handed on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Sunday was dealer’s choice.
I began easy and worked my way into more difficult efforts. Along the way, I grew deeper appreciation for what left-handers must suffer in order to cope with our right-hand biases. My house feels specifically set up for a right-hand user. I never thought about that when I bought it; I accepted it as ‘normal’. I realized that many things can be changed to accommodate a left-hander, matters like how the faucets are oriented, and the way the dryer and refrigerator doors open.
After my practice with reverse days, I can only imagine how difficult daily life must be for natural left-handers. Learning to drive must require a Herculean effort.
Beyond those, I’ve become fascinated with how my right and left hands have negotiated into who does what. Holding and eating a banana, for example. I found that I hold my banana in my left hand so I can peel it in my right. Yet, I continue to hold it in my left hand while I eat it.
The most daunting task for reverse days: definitely shaving. I can shave my face okay with my left hand. But my left hand hasn’t earned my trust for trimming my mustache and beard. An electric razor is used for that task. Using it to shape things requires careful movement and concentration. I like it just so, you know. Although I’ve picked up my razor with my left and braced myself to do it and yet…wincing, returned it to my right. Yes, I am a chicken.
I’m sure I’ll someday summon the courage to permit the left hand to give the electric razor a go. Until then, the left hand won’t know what the right hand is doing.
Then it’ll learn just how hard it is being right.
I was at Albertson’s. The people ahead — man, woman, and younger woman — were paying. Setting my items onto the belt, I spotted a tub of deli pasta salad and held it up. “Who does this belong to?”
Attention swiveled. “Whoops,” the man said, laughing.
In the same instant, the young, blond cashier cried out, “Oh, no, I made a mistake, I missed something!”
The woman fluttered a hand. “It’s not a problem. Don’t worry about it.”
The young woman gasped. “Oh, no, we can’t go without that!”
Amused as the error was fixed, I hid a private chuckle, entertained by the reactions.
We’ve all been there.
Michael Seidel, writer 