Twosdaz Wandering Thoughts

I should probably buy a new computer. Microsoft has warned me that it won’t be supporting this one much longer. That is a concern. Chrome never makes such dire threats. I don’t know if I can use another OS and other browsers. Probably can but it would be more of an investment in time than I want to do.

The computer is over a decade old. It can’t run Windows 11 without more changes. More importantly, the computer has developed some issues. Its chassis is slightly bent. That causes some control issues. Several keys have been replaced but it hasn’t been a successful fix. The HP Envy’s silver edges are worn black. The tab, q, and x keys often leave their stations. The backspace key broke in half and is held together by cellotape. Several keys, specifically the e, d, c, o, l, and n keys, have lost their identity as my fingernails tapped it away. I often need to consciously press hard on the t, c, and n key to get a response, along with the ctrl key and the delete key. It all slows me down. Every once in a while, the CD drive will pop open on its own, shouting, “Surprise,” like a drunk uncle, just to remind me that it’s there.

So a new computer need can be shown. But, this one still works. I’m just loathe to get rid of things just because they’re not the newest or because it’s less than perfect. Sure, it takes five minutes to fire up. When Chrome is used, five more minutes will pass before that is loaded. It plays pretty well with Windows and Edge, though.

I don’t know. I have the money. It was my birthday and I didn’t get anything else. Maybe it’s time, but I’ll probably let a few more weeks of sleep pass before I look for another. The whole thought train reminds me that I bought my first computer forty years ago.

Seems like it was yesterday.

Twosdaz Theme Music

I heard something hit the house last night. ‘Bout midnight. Turned out to be Twosda, August 5, 2025, staggering into the siding. Cool night, and mostly clear, offering views of a waxing moon and a spill of stars. We’re relaxing in 76 F air with a cloud-stained coating of sun-filled blue sky. 86 F wil be the thermometer’s top mark for Ashlandia.

Democratic governors are pleasing me these days. First, a shut out to those Texan Dems who left the state to prevent the Trump-Abbott collusion to destroy democracy in Texas and the United States. Second, huzzah to the Dem governors who took them in, and the Dem govs standing up to the GOP bullshit. California Gov. Newsome and Democratic New York Gov. Kathy Hochul are vowing to redistrict to counter Abbott’s moves in Texas. Frankly, I think such forceful action is needed. Meanwhile, Robert Hubbell published encouraging news in More signs of life among Senate Democrats.

Hearing of the Trump Regime’s eager use of space stuff to try to distract from the Epstein list, The Neurons loaded a song about the moon in the morning mental music stream. “Walking on the Moon” is a 1979 raggae rock offering by The Police. Sting wrote the song, mentioning being drunk as inspiration and also an early love. The Neurons entertained me with visuals of Trump waddling around the moon. The Neurons thought that Trump would trip and start uncontrollabling bouncing across the moon’s surface.

I’ve had a wink of coffee. Think I’ll have forty more. Hope grace and peace has its way with you today. Cheers

Twosdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Sean Duffy, acting interim pretend director of NASA, wants to ‘expedite plans’ to put a nuclear reactor on the Moon. This is probably because, as everyone who has ever seen the numbers on space programs, sending people and equipment to the Moon is incredibly cheap right now, thanks to Trump’s tariffs. Also, thanks to Trump’s tariffs and the beautiful revenue flowing in to the Treasury, more money than anyone has ever seen at one time. The deficit will drop by 1500% overnight, so the U.S. will have more money to spend than ever imagined.

They also want to launch a new U.S. space station. With Trump’s love of gold, I’d expect the interior to be lavishly bedecked with gold plated pieces, including a gold plated toilet. He’ll probably want it named for hisself, so the regime will be launching the the Donald J. Trump Space Station. Melania Trump, who is a genius, as everyone knows (she married Trump!), will emerge from her seclusion to design the new space suits. Trump Space Industries will manufacture them (in China, of course). They will have tags which say, “Made in the U.S.A.”

Cost overruns will beset the project. So will schedule problems and delays because other countries which have the needed materials and manufacturing resources dropped the U.S. as a trading partner. Seeing the numbers, TACO will growl, “You’re fired,” replacing the project director with someone more familiar with Trump math, such as a Fox News anchor, or one of his personal lawyers. “Give me a Sharpie,” the Donald will bark, and then he’ll fix the numbers with a Sharpie, as he’s prone to do. (You should see the Sharpie markups of his personal Trump Bible!) He’ll tell us about his uncle, who was a professor at M.I.T., and tell us how his uncle taught him everything anyone knows about space and space travel back in 1980.

Trump will call it the big beautiful space mission, the most beautiful mission ever in the history of the world, the very, very greatest space mission ever. Grossly overloaded with gold, corrupted by Trump math, forced to use substitute products, the gold-plated Trump Rocket won’t clear the gantry and collapse on the launch pad. Comedians and social media will overflow with a comic Trump failure to launch meme.

“It’s Biden’s fault,” Trump will shriek, and order everyone to start talking about something other than the rocket launch failure. A text will fly across Trump social media. “The lying scum democrat Deep State led by lying Newsom and KAMALA HARRIS and Barack HUSSEIN Obama did this to me because they don’t want to Make America Great Again. THIS WILL NOT STOP US. WE WILL BUILD THE BEST ROCKETS AMERICA HAS EVER SEEN AND THEY CAN’T STOP US. Thank you for your attention to this matter.”

Acfloofpuncture

Acfloofpuncture (floofinition) – Floofese practice of inserting claws into skin to cure disease, relieve pain, incur relaxation, or for amusement. Origins: 1784, Flooftin.

In Use: “Snuggles was rapidly demonstrating herself as an acfloofpuncture specialist, sinking claws into every piece of human skin offered her.”

Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

We were out shopping. This goes into the home decor bucket. I didn’t realize it, but we needed new kitchen towels for the upcoming autumn season. The previous inhabitants were food stained.

My wife said, “We also need new pillows.”

For what room and use, I wondered.

“The ones we have are too large. We need smaller ones, like that one lumbar pillow.”

Ah, I see, it’s the living room.

“Where did we get that lumbar pillow?” she finished.

I shrugged. I don’t have deep vested interest in the living room pillows.

Our shopping target was HomeGoods. A home furnishings store, it’s a TJ Maxx & Marshalls sibling. They sell at a discount. I often have a sense that they rebuy the stuff that couldn’t be sold in Macys and stores of that level to be resold at a discount.

We walked into the store from the 90 F degree summer heat into a tacky Halloween explosion. We had black skeletons festooned with glitter or lights. Halloween skulls and gnomes, fake pumpkins in displays of cotton, yarn, plastic, and glass. Halloween place settings with skulled plates and glasses were set up. Halloween blankets and pillows were available along with Halloween mugs. We were throw back onto our back foot by this display. Halloween was a weed, taking over a quarter of the store.

“What happened to the fall?” my wife asked.

Then we remembered. We’d come here a few weeks before Easter onto to find they were on July 4th. Of course they were on Halloween.

I cogitated, “I bet the Thanksgiving stuff will hit around October 1st.” I remembered then, that last year the Christmas stuff was out in bulk before Halloween.

I wouldn’t be surprised to see it Christmas in July in a few years.

So it’ll be Thanksgiving in June in the United States. At least at the stores.

Other Than That

I’m curious about life after death.

I’m curious about life before life. I’m curious about how life began. I’m curious about how our planet will end.

I’m curious about why we exist, if we exist.

I’m curious about reality.

I’m curious about what my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were like as children. I’m curious about how my ancestors came to the United States. I’m curious about their lives before then.

I’m curious about life on Mars and other planets. I’m curious about the nature of the universe, the nature of energy, the nature of time, and quantum physics.

I’m curious about what is faster than the speed of light and if we will ever find that out.

I’m curious about what life would be like on an atom.

I’m curious about Zeno’s Paradox and other paradoxes and thought experiments.

I’m curious about how technology affects our brains and societies.

I’m curious about what life was like on Earth three thousand years ago.

I’m curious about what we’ll be like in another thousand years.

I’m curious about the dark side of the moon and the far side of the galaxy.

I’m curious about Earth’s first years.

I’m curious about the psychology of people. I’m curious about why the wealthy and powerful want or need more wealth and power. I’m curious about what causes such hatred in some people and why anger and hatred drive people to kill others. I’m curious about why others can be so indifferent to people’s suffering and children starving.

I’m curious about what it is that makes some people so brilliant.

I’m curious about why I struggle to remember scientific words.

I’m curious about charisma.

I’m curious about how the human body works, and how animal bodies work, and fish and birds and plants.

I’m curious about what rocks think and remember.

I’m curious about why we need to sleep and why we dream.

I’m curious about what my dreams mean.

I’m curious about what my cats are thinking when they look at me.

I’m curious about what my wife is thinking, feeling, planning, and remembering. I’m curious about what she really thinks of me.

I’m curious about why art, music, and literature can move me so deeply.

I’m curious about why I like coffee so much.

I’m curious about why I and others are driven to write fiction and tell stories.

I’m curious about the truth behind our world history.

I’m curious about what happened to Atlantis and other ancient places and peoples.

I’m curious about mystery spots and the illusions behind them.

I’m curious about what makes some people so wildly successful while other talented people work hard and remain in the shadows.

I’m curious about fate and destiny and the future and the past.

I’m curious about what the first people who looked up and saw stars thought.

I’m curious about why, what, how, and when.

Other than that, I remain a pretty incurious person.

Satyrdaz Theme Music

More bunder thusters prowled Ashlandia’s late afternoon and early evening. Less sprinkles than you’d find on a doughnut fell, too. But Satyrda, August 2, 2025, has awakened in our area as sun-filled blue skies. A 67 F temperature now is expected to climb into the top 80s. A check of the fire watch and fire warning systems shows no new lightning-started fires in southern Oregon and northern California, knock wood, once again.

We’re flabbergasted in our household about economics surprised by the ‘weaker-than-expected’ jobs numbers and manufacturing decline. “Gasp,” economists said. “Unemployment has gone up again. Less people are employed. Who would have believed that would happen after Trump terminated all those Federal jobs? Just because tourism is down because less people are traveling to the United States due to ICE shouldn’t affect jobs, should it? And I don’t think the shuttering of automobile factories, even temporarily due to material shortages and tariffs, would affect job numbers. I wonder what’s going on?” Those economics should consider relocating their offices from under those rocks.

This was another household laugher of a headline: RFK Jr. says cancer screenings are too ‘woke’ now. WTF does that word mess even mean? The Trump Regime continues toward new lows in coherency.

A second laugher came in the FAFO variety: Trump voter livid after being profiled by ICE: ‘I’m an American who now has to be afraid’. It was again a brown voter who thought Trump would go after those ‘other’ brown people, the bad ones, and not them.

Finally, more FAFO is being reported in Iowa. ‘Tidal wave on our hands’: Furious voters say Trump’s turning key red state purple. The first paragraph claims, “Angry voters in Iowa could turn the state from solid red to a swing state because they feel betrayed by President Donald Trump on issues from healthcare to agriculture.

A large part of that is that farmers felt betrayed by Trump urging Coca Cola to make Coke with cane sugar only for sale in the U.S., what is often referred to as ‘Mexican Coke’ because they use cane sugar to make Coke in Mexico. The Iowa farmers grow corn; corn syrup was being used in Coke production. So there goes their market. As usual, Trump shows how naive and short-sighted he is, how disconnected from reality, or he would have known of the connection between corn syrup and American farmers. But he’s too damn painfully lacking of the brain cells needed to comprehend these things. Since he’s installed only ‘yes’ people who kowtow to him, he won’t hear anyone explain the relationship between corn, farmers, Coke, and sugar to him. Or, as likely, he’ll shrug and say with his ’empathy’, “They’ll get over it.”

Jill Dennison started a chain the other day. She played a Foreigner song on her blog. I countered with some other Foreigner song. Ark chimed in with another Foreigner song, “Urgent”. Ark mentioned the sax, and the album, Four or 4. That was a fine damn album and it was added to the rotation for a while at my house after it was released. Now The Neurons have run with that, of course, playing “Urgent” and other Foreigner songs from the album in the morning mental music stream. I’m afraid that means that I must share the song with you to stop The Neurons from playing it in my head. I’m sorry, but those are the rules. I didn’t create them; I just live by them.

May peace and grace find you today. Maybe some fun, too. Here we go. Cheers

Fridaz Theme Music

Lawdy, it was the skunkpocalypse last night. I don’t know what was going on but skunk stink bowled through the house like a Budweiser King Pin tournament at 4 AM. After shutting the only windows open and activating the air filter, I consulted an oracle. “Is this a bad omen for August?” I asked. “I can’t work in these conditions,” the oracle answered, tears streaming down their cheeks. I took that as a yes. At the least, it seems like a ‘maybe’.

Yeah, that’s how Frida, August 1, 2025 rolled in on us. But could’ve been worse, judging from all that goes on in the world. Especially in the era of MAGALand. I mean, I could have been shot and killed from police exercising a no-knock warrant at the wrong address. ICE could’ve pounced on me when I opened the door for fresh air and stolen my ID or disappeared me. Earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, flash-flooding, and tornados are all real threats at this time. So a heavy skunk attack is mild.

Today, it’s 72 F. Gonna get to 86 F. Thunder boomers thrashed the area for several hours. We even had a little wetletting from the sky, just enough to call it a sprinkle. No reports of rampant lightning strikes, knock wood. Porcupine Fire to the southeast is new but just an acre. A helicopter is doing bucket work on it.

With First Frida, we have the downtown Art Walk to entertain us and the First Frida Bike Ride. On a friend’s recommendation, we’re going to see a play, Disaster! It’s a comedy.

News reading drove The Neurons to invite Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers into the morning mental music stream. “Breakdown” from 1977 is looping through. Why not breakdown? Reading about the many aspects of U.S. life slowly breaking down is tres depressing. The Trump Regime is a seriously backward lot. Like, over under the Fox newsguy’s guidance, the Defense Department personnel have been instructed not to work with any think tanks. While it doesn’t make sense from a historic and intelligent point of view, it’s tots inline with the TACO Regime: they’re against thinking.

Under Trump, all signs point to not thinking as much as possible. Fer instance, don’t think about our history of slavery and civil rights. Don’t think about sexism and racism. Don’t think about climate change and increasing extreme weather disasters. Don’t think about due process, the Constitution, checks and balances, and historic precedence. Don’t think about Trump’s campaign promises and how he’s not delivered. Don’t think ’bout education and morality. Most def do not think about Epstein and Trump, and their secrets.

But it’s only the title, “Breakdown”, which works. The song itself, about a souring relationship, doesn’t apply. Oh, wait; I guess that can apply to Trump and his voters. Seem of them might be souring, according to polls. Really, too early. Takes a while for it all to gel and hit home.

Well, I can’t just sit here typing and reading and writing all day while drinking coffee. Things Must Be Done. Like, the car Must Be Put Into The Shop, because it’s systems are saying, it is time again. More yardwork and housework Must Be Done. More vacation planning is in order. Can’t have a good vacation without intensive dialogues about what Will Be Done and What Is Needed.

I hope peace and grace bless you this day. Cheers

Thirstdaz Wandering Thoughts

It’s a silly one.

My wife doesn’t online bank. She doesn’t trust computer and web security. Mind you, she will shop online, no probs.

I am at my computer. To my left is a small bowl of pumpkin and sunflower seeds with almonds, cashews, and pistachio nuts. Unsalted and raw, these are my safe snack.

My wife said, “Can you login and check my credit card statement please? I want to make sure the vacation house payment was charged.”

We’d rented a place on the Oregon coast with two other couples. There was half up front with the rest paid thirty days later. It was decided my wife and I would front the costs and the others would reimburse us. I was the one who paid for it, because it was online, but I used the Visa account. Technically in both of our names as a joint account, we refer to this as ‘her’ account. The MasterCard is ‘my’ account. Yet, when it came time to set up the vacation home payments, I did it, using ‘her’ credit card. We did this by agreement because my card had several grand on it for my recent dental work — three implants, a biopsy, and a bone graft.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll do it in a minute. Let me finish eating my nuts first.”

Laughter burst out of me and my wife. We’re so immature.

Told you it was silly.

A Poem For The Regime

Paul Vinent Cannon wrote a short poem, “Choices”. I find it perfect for these times and the TACO Regime. I attempted to reblog it but WordPress’s magic fizzled. So I have a link but also lifted the poem and posted it here.

An American Cinquain (2-4-6-8-2)

Choices

Silence
sometimes bidden
sometimes so moralised
well sometimes I just cannot be
silent.
Copyright 2025 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

Hope you’ll visit his blog and enjoy more of his poems and observations. Cheers

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