Tag: Information

Satyrda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

I had a FAFO post up about the Texas flash flood disaster and the Trump National Weather Service cuts. But I felt uncomfortable with it and trashed it. First, it seemed too Trumpian to tonelessly crow about others’ bad situation. That’s something that I genuinely detest in Trump and many of his supporters. These are humans suffering, and I feel for them and their pain.

I also don’t believe that pointing out FAFO moments like the National Weather Service changes Trump thoughtlessly executed will help the national political discourse. FAFO incidents must be learning moments for the MAGAs, but they need to do it from their sphere. We’ve already witnessed them coming back with strong denial or whataboutisms when confronted with facts. So, they either learn it on their own, or don’t. Pointing it out isn’t a catalyst to helping them learn. It will just close their minds to people pointing it out to them.

That’s a broad generalization, of course. I don’t know how many MAGAs it applies to. I’ve read interviews where MAGAs have professed to learning from their Trump-supporting ways. I know some have learned; I believe more will learn. I hope more will learn.

But I’m going to try to avoid shoving their face in it when the FAFO shit hits the fan.

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Frida’s Wandering Thoughts

The parade is over. The fireworks await us tonight. Cloud cover has passed away so viewing shouldn’t be a problem. The arguments over whether they’re entertaining and patriotic or an environmental hazard and an ordeal for animals continues.

2025’s Ashland Independence Day parade was remarkable for its thin festivities and shortness. Didn’t even go an hour this year even though four bands entertained us with march and show music. The are the same four bands heard every year. Indivisible had a “No Kings” display and vocalized that, encouraging us to join. La Clinica was barely there. Climate awareness scuffled past, as did Peace Corps members who knew their legacy was being defunded and dismissed.

Applause was muted; many participants seemed tired, trudging, not marching, forcing dull smiles out as they remembered to toss a feeble smile. Some performers, like the elderly female dancers, were still into it, zinging us with smiles and waving with happiness, but they were the rarity. Mayors from Medford, Phoenix, Talent, and Ashland all drove by, along with other minor local government functionaries. The cars, an Austin Healey 3000, two Jag E types, and a Bugatti GTC, brought comments, along with the vintage and antique cars that gassed us with exhaust fumes out of the 1940s.

The weather stayed cool but the sunshine was hot, a crisply contradictary way of being, which felt perfectly symbolic for this national holiday in 2025.

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WP Blues

WordPress blues struck again. Reading another’s post, I moved to comment. WP responded, hey, is this you? We’re asking because you’re not logged in.

I clicked to another tab which indeed showed me logged in.

That led me to an uncomfortable place. I don’t want to log in and re-enter my password on a page asking for such when I’m already demonstrably logged into that site. Cause, suspiciously, even though the URL looked okay and the page seemed genuine, it smelled. It this wasn’t a digital offering on a laptop but instead something tangible, it would stink like milk left out in a hot apartment for a month. It would arouse suspicions like a Nigerian prince offering me a million dollars if I just loaned him five grand for a day.

That’s how we live these days, at least in my abode, where phones aren’t answered unless the number is known, where unexpected packages are treated with deadly caution, strangers knocking on the door are ignored, and links in emails are triple-vetted.

Of course, it might have been some sort of WordPress malfunction. That kinda happens, too.

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Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

Sunshine hangs long and hot. The temperature rests at 95 F. The sky darkens, heralding a fleet of clouds. The fleet burgeons as more clouds drift over to see what happens. Darkening and darkening under added layers of clouds, the sunshine skips out on the rest of the day. So dark at 4 PM, we’re forced into turning on houselights. Thunder cruises through with long throat clearing. We look out, talking out our thoughts, “Looks lik it’s going to rain.” “It’s going to storm.”

Wind dashes around and through the trees. Then it sinks.

The day grows still and dark. Feeling bored, the thunder slinks off. The darkness stays, the clouds remain, and the temperature puts it hat on 87 F, and stays there. Tension builds as we wait and look, asking each other, looking outside for clues, surfing the net for information. Friends share on the net, “weird weather.” No one knows nothin’; we wait.

It’s weather’s move.

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The Writing Moment

The coffee shop had net problems today. Shrugging that away, I told myself, “Just write and check the net later.” Two and a half hours later, I’d finished 2300 words and the story had progressed as if I had some notion of what the hell was going on.

The Hunger Band was on my stomach’s center stage by then, their first notes careening through the rest of my bod. Coffee shop net still down, I listened to the Hunger Band’s sorrowful lyrics about dying of starvation and decided, “Yes, I’ve written enough. Time to go home and eat.”

Now to explore the kitchen to see what the Hunger Band will find acceptable. Salad? Maybe. Burrito?

Hmmm.

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Munda’s Theme Music

Boom, and it’s June’s last day n 2025. Boom, it’s another Munda.

Today is Munda, June 29, 2025. Boom, it’s gonna get hot again in Ashlandia. 99 F. 73 F at the mo. My friend in Melbourne, Australia is miserable with cold, wet rain. I feel for him. The weather rarely satisfies us for many consecutive moments, especially if you’re a prince like me, cognizant of every ripple casting anything less than perfection.

Despite a heavy load of dreams, today’s music comes from PINO Trump’s “One Beautiful Big Bill”. News outlets are generally roiling with disgust about the bill. It’s a grab bag for the rich and strips away help for the poor and sick, and shreds protections for our land, water, and air. The bill removes gun controls and taxes so it’ll be easier and cheaper for people to pay guns. This, in a nation already slathered with gun violence. Just this weekend, two fire fighters were shot and killed and others were wounded in an ambush in Idaho. People polled are heavily against the One Big Beautiful Bowel Movement, for just reasons.

Yet, this bill is the perfect bill for this nation at this point. Filled with what the fuck provisions, sponsored and pushed by a liar and a cheat (yes, that’s Trump), it’s a bill by a billionaire for a billionaire. One that encourages and rewards greed, violence, and selfishness. Perfect for the ‘Christian Nation’ visualized in Project 2025. I have always considered Trump a con man; now his con has come to full light, and his supporters are the main marks.

BTW, read Mock Paper Scissors small’s bite on the bill: Playing Clue: GOP, In Congress, With Paperwork. If that doesn’t cause your GRRRR Meter to max out, nothing will.

Today’s song, then, is “Nasty” by Janet Jackson. The Neurons popped the song into my morning mental music stream after I read about the bill and the GOP capitulation and hissed, “Nasty.” That was all it took, and I was hearing, “Nasty. Oh, you nasty boys.”

Just read that Trump is to visit America’s newest Florida funpark, Alligator Alcatraz. Maybe a gator will get ‘im. It’s good to have dreams.

Hope your weather fits your needs and your day works out beautifully. I’ll do my best. Give me a cuppa. Here we go. Cheers

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Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

This is from the ‘maybe-it’s-just-me’ book of thoughts.

When I read about the growing Wolf Fire in southern California, I immediately thought that PINO Trump’s response will be: “Let them burn.”

Which I think is totally wrong and an abhorrent way for the President of the United States to think. But it’s completely in line with the policies and behavior of the TACO Regime of the Disunited States of Chaos.

Trump’s golf club is Nero’s fiddle.

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Infloofsion

Infloofsion (floofinition) Animal act of wrongfully entering upon, seizing, or taking possession of something which they’re not supposed to have. Origins: First known use was in fifteen century bakeries, butchers, and fish markets.

In Use: “Like many felines, Domino quickly became infloofmous for his infloofsions, stealing popcorn, sandwiches, pieces of fish, and his favorite, cheese pizza.”

In Use: “Ramona Rex infloofsions after escaping her kennel amounted to a haphazard hoard of dirty socks, shoes, underwear, and shorts, causing Kylie to observe to her husband that it was ‘almost like the dog wanted to dress like a human.'”

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