Wezda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Texas and Florida are led by two of the most right-wing, reactionary governors. Governors Abbott and DeSantis constantly assail liberal values such as freedom and equality for all, decrying these as part of that terrible, terrible ‘woke’ agenda. Gadzooks, the woke agenda is so evil, in their minds. Gender recognition, women’s rights, abortion rights, it’s so, soooo horrible to hear them. Why, those liberals, aided by Democrats, are willing to do something about restricting gun rules just cause children are being murdered in schools and mass shootings happen with a sickening regularity. Those damn liberals. And let’s not start them about the climate change hoax, or the environmental protections that allowed much of the nation to have some decent air and water and reduce cancer rates. They get spittin’ mad just thinkin’ ’bout it

One of the favorite tools for these two states is secession. If the nation won’t see things their way, they’ll just leave the nation. That’s how much they love ‘Merica. The way that talk, they’re all give, give, give, getting nothin’ back from those damn Feds except lies, except when a Republican sits behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office.

Well, Mr. Paul Krugman has a nice post this week remind us of how that damn Federal government bailed out their states of Texas and Florida a few times. Mr. Krugman is writing in the context of Republican threats to put conditions on helping California recover and rebuild from its horrific wildifires. “Remembrance of Red State Bailouts Past” takes us through a short journey. It’s a fact-based journey, of course. You know how terrible the Republican crowd is ’bout facts. They’ve yet to met one that they like, much less remember one.

Hope you click on over and read Mr. Krugman’s column. It’s important that the rest of us know the facts so we can challenge those ridiculous un-American positions.

Wezda’s Theme Music

Mood: hotimeinthehouse

Today’s theme music comes fresh out of The Neuron mill. Walking through the house this morning as dawn asserted its presence, the heat was running. The furnace temp was set on 68 F but the air out of the vents felt blazingly hot on my skin. My SO and I went through our usual comedy skit of me commenting on the hot air and my wife asserting, “Warm at last.”

The Neurons almost instantly fired up “Summer in the City” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark toasted). The 1966 Lovin’ Spoonful song is a paean to a city’s day heat and its impact, and then how life burst forth at night, after the heat has retreated. A perfect song for Wezda, January 15, 2025 in Ashlandia, where it’s 28 F at my place. The sun is shining and the frosty valley is tranquil under a deep blue sky. There’s a freezing fog warning out for us. They said it will expire in about seventy-five minutes. Today’s high will supposedly be 59 F. Supposedly couches the prediction for me because we didn’t get anywhere close to our supposed high yesterday.

There I go, grousing again. Grousing is just not a word that I hear much these days. It was Mom and Dad’s favorite. Both of them would use it regularly in conversations, as in, “Your Aunt Jean was grousing about her children again today.”

After thinking about it part of yesterday, I inserted it into several conversations. Turned out to be a conversation stopper. Fer instance, my wife had gone to a “girls’ night” at a friend’s house. These girls are all in their upper sixties and beyond. The original intention had been to do the do at night but they all protested, “No, I can’t drive in the dark.” So girls’ night was moved to the early afternoon.

When my wife got back, I asked, “Do anyone at girls’ night grouse about anything?”

She stopped and stared at me. “Grouse?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t heard that in years.”

I nodded. “Me, neither. I thought I’d bring it back.”

Alright, coffee and I have signed another cooperative agreement. I have a doctor’s appointment to hit. Then it’s grocery shopping.

Be strong and fly your flag high. Hope your day is going well, wherever you are, whatever the weather. Hope that the wars end soon. That the right wing regains its senses and became less negative, reactionary, and hateful. Hope that the California wildfires are stopped with no more loss of life so they may begin rebuilding.

In other word, I hope. Remember, this year’s word is courage. Here’s the music video. It’s an interesting one to me, watching them perform this song sans any sort of cords, wires, amplifiers, or microphones. Cheers

Some Good News

I hang my mind on any good news that arises. Here’s a sharing of a sharing of good news brought to us by Annie Asks You and Jessica Craven. Cheers

Twosda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

I read an excellent analysis by Allison Morrow on CNN the other day: “There’s a reason why it feels like the internet has gone bad”. Ms Morrow goes on to remind us of a term that Cory Doctorow coined several years ago:

Enshittification

Enshittification is the process by which a platform destroys itself. “First, they are good to their users; then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers; finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die.”

The thing about enshittification, though, is that it’s more universal than just social platforms and online endeavors. My wife and I have noticed enshittification taking place in restaurant chains, for example.

Take a chain called Fresh Choice. I don’t know its status these days. When it first came to the SF-SJ bay area, my wife and I loved it. She fluctuates between being a vegan and a vegetarian and all shades in between. Now she eats fish and eggs but not cheese, and never, never eats pork, beef, or fowl. So Fresh Choice, focused on breads, soups, salads and a small dessert offerings, was a reasonably-priced place to go for lunch or dinner.

We had certain favorites, like a squash soup. But then one month, it tasted different. Now, we don’t have evidence but we believe that Fresh Choice was using quality ingredients. But to sustain their profit margins and reduce costs as they expanded, they switched ingredients to less expensive ingredients. We soon no longer found the food as tasty. Then they raised prices. Started doing different levels of purchases, if I recall right. The cleanliness of the local franchise declined, and the wait staff became less friendly. We ceased going.

The thing is, we knew enshittification without naming it, because we’ve seen this happen time and again to businesses. We saw it happen to cable companies and phone companies. Internet streaming services. The airlines, of course, are big examples of enshittification, reducing legroom, monetizing every aspect of travel, stealing away all the aspects we used to take for granted as part of the flying experiences.

As Ms Morrow noted, “In other words: Products are good when they first hit the market, because companies need to lock in as many consumers as they can to achieve the huge scale they desire. Once everyone’s using the product, the company refocuses on creating value for business partners, padding its profit margins and letting the product corrode. Eventually, the company maxes out what it can extract from its business partners, too, and the whole thing fades into obsolescence.

Once you wrap your head around the idea, you start to see enshittification all around — not only online, but across the economy, in services that have been picked over by private equity (vet clinicsnursing homesprisons, countless other industries) or in the products peddled by highly concentrated industries.

I’ll go one further, though. I think the GOP is undergoing the process of enshittification. As Mr Doctorow said in a Nightline interview, “In terms of the future of enshittification, these platforms that have hollowed themselves out, where there’s just no value left in them except this kind of awful lock-in. It’s the old “we go broke a little, and then all at once.””

That’s this century’s GOP, hollowed out, going for broke. Enshittified, with a shitty leader and a shitty agenda. Let’s hope that we survive as a democratic nation and don’t become too enshittified while MAGA is in power. More than hoping, let’s work against our nation becoming enshittified.

Twosda’s Theme Music

Mood: Moonflyin’

Today is Twosda, January 14, 2025. Another cold morning in Ashlandia — up to 28 F under the sun’s influence — but we’ve been granted a bright blue sky and unfettered sunshine. For the moment. That could change. Experts sa clouds will move in but the temperature will push the mid-50s.

Had a powerful Inauguration Moon carrying on through the night. Although Inauguration Day happens every four years in the U.S., the first full moon of Jan. is often referred to as the Inauguration Day Moon. Other countries sometimes call it the Revolution Moon. Some wags refer to the Inauguration Day Moon as the Grrr Moon, depending upon who won the election or the circumstances of the election. That’s how I’m referring to it myself this year, for my own reasons.

The California wildfires continue to burn across the news front. Death toll is rising, 24 now. The devastation so far put the Eaton and Palisades fires at the third and fourth worse fires in California history since 1991. What a calamity. The buildings can be rebuilt but what a chunk of life and history the fires have taken. Then there’s the impact on the environment and wildlife. The brightest part of the story, if one is wanted, is how other states and our neighbors from Canada and Mexico have stepped in to help fight the blazes. Yet, of course, the rightwing echoes with lies and misinformation about what’s going on. They’ll do anything to tear down, and nothing to help.

Today’s song is “The Long Run” from 1979 by the Eagles. The Neurons put it into the morning mental music stream (Trademark pending) based on a few song lines as we go into a Republican-led Federal governmen. “Who is gonna make it? We’ll find out in the long run. I know we can take it if our love is a strong one.” So here we go: what’ll happen in the next two years? Because 2026 — the midterm elections — will probably be a revelation of some kind, if all hasn’t already been revealed before then.

Coffee and I have come together. Time to launch into another day. Here’s the music. Cheers

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

I think it’s time for us to modernize how we refer to the moon. Like Harvest Moon, Wolf Moon, and the like. Like the Full Moon, when people are expected to act out, should be called the Coffee Moon. Because, as someone relatively sane who is forced to deal with others’ craziness, it takes a lot of coffee to get through it.

Likewise, the first full moon in November should be called the Black Friday Moon. Doesn’t matter if it falls on Friday; are you really so naive and out of touch to believe that Black Friday, that day in November when retailers and manufacturers slash prices, is limited to that one day? Hell no, sisters and brothers. Black Friday commences weeks before. The actual Friday named in Black Friday is just the height of the shopping frenzy. And if you think that I’m being too US-centric in this, Black Friday, that shopping day on the Friday after Thanksgiving in the US, is now a global affair.

Besides the Coffee Moon and Black Friday Moon, I believe a Superbowl Moon is in order. The event is televised around the world now, even though many are tuning in for the commercials or halftime entertainment. I’d suggest a moon to ‘honor’ turning our clocks back or forward, but that’s all over the place right now. There are a number of moons which could be called Beer Moon. Use your own noodling to get to the nub of what I’m suggesting there.

What used to be known as Harvest Moon should probably be dubbed ‘Earnings Moon’ to recognize that annual earnings reports are coming out. Sure, Earnings Moon doesn’t have the romance attached to it that Harvest Moon might carry, but romance is fading so we might as well face up to who we are. This one might be US centric.

Should there be a Cynic’s Moon? Because I, at least, am very cynical about the world’s state. Also, does anyone have any thoughts on which moon should be the Bullshit Moon? Because there’s enough BS going around in my view that such a moon is definitely warranted. Just watch a Republican gush about PINO-elect Trump and you’ll see what I mean.

Munda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

I was beginning to type that like most of the country, I’m shocked by the GOP reaction of the California fires. Their leaders, like PINO-elect Trump, politicize the disaster and display no empathy. But I realized that I couldn’t claim that ‘most of the country’ feel this way. 31% accept what Trump claims or agree with his sentiments, without regards to the load of lies he puts out. Another 39% are too indifferent to pay attention to the news and are likely unaware of it, except for the fraction of that 39% who live in the affected area.

Meanwhile, demonstrating how classy and courageous they are — yes, that’s 100% pure, unaltered snark — Republicans like the governor of Texas, Abbott, want to raise the flags to full staff on inauguration day. See, the flags are at half mast or half staff to honor one of our previous presidents, James Earl Carter. But he was a Democrat, and in the GOP world, Democrats aren’t deserving of being mentioned in history nor respected except as an evil that must be wiped out. Some possibly — yes, some — are outraged that a previous POTUS isn’t being probably respected. But they mostly remain silent about it. Cuz, you know, they don’t wanna upset his Trumpiness.

This is the same party that bewailed the polarization dividing the country back when Trump was shot at during the election season. Do they recognize that they are pushing divisiveness while decrying it? Possibly. Maybe. Who knows? I say that they don’t, but that’s based on a small subsection of right-wingers I personally speak to, and they never own up to it. Do I recognize that this post attacks the GOP with broad generalizations and also encourages the divisiveness? I sure do, but until a majority of the GOP stands up and acknowledges the outrageous lying, hypocrisy, bigotry, and hatred that permeate their party, I see no reason to mollify my anger about those peckerheads and their behavior.

Sunda’s Theme Music

Mood: Morninlazin

Sunshine and blue owned the morning sky. The afternoon’s start delivered winds and smotherin’ gray clouds. That mornin’ sunshine feels like a mirage. It’s 43 F. High will be 44 F. Dropped into the cold zone overnight, 29 F at our house. Decidin’ that he preferred warmth over being a free animal, Papi nested in the house until 5:50 AM. That’s when he did his bangin’ to be freed.

BTW, today is Sunda, January 12, 2025.

I’ve been car watching from the coffee shop. We used to have an expression in the US Air Force for B52 bombers. We called them BUFs. Big Ugly F*ckers. I think the term should be revised for some of those vehicles roamin’ the streets. The Tesla Cybertruck certainly qualifies as a BUF. As does the Telluride SUV. My opinion, of course. Others might call them the epitomy of technologic beauty. Some segment probably sees no beauty in any vehicle, dubbin’ them all monstrosities of the modern landscape. And that’s also a reasonable response.

I’ve been watching The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey on Apple. Created by Walter Mosley and based on his novel, the main actor is Samuel L. Jackson. That’s a double win for me, as I’m fans of both. Also features Walton Goggins, another personal preference when I’m watching shows and movies, and has a strong cast. No misfires among any of them, with respect and appreciation for Dominique Fishback in her role increasing. I also admire the way the show ages and de-ages Jackson’s character, Ptolemy, aka Pity. However, when they de-aged him in some episodes, his mustache looked like a glued-on fake to me. Bit distracting for me cuz of that. I recommend the series, though. Came out a few years ago.

Today’s song was gifted to The Neurons by my wife. Al Jarreau is one of her favorite performers, and one of her favorite songs is “Mornin'” from 1983. It’s one of her go-to songs when she’s cleanin’, cookin’, and exercisin’. As she resolved to make some New Year changes, she’s been playin’ this tune several times this week. Not surprisin’, The Neurons locked onto it and have it going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark waitin’). Jarreau is a helluva performer and singer. He sings with such joy. We’ve seen in concert a few times and wouldn’t hesitate to plunk down bucks and do it again, except we can’t because he passed away. This is another of those times when technology works in our favor to help us remember wonderful people. Hope you enjoy it.

Meanwhile, watching the news continuing to come out about the devastating California fires is just soul-killing. To think that someone may have deliberately started any of them is just friggin’ horrifyin’. Yet that possibility seems to have legs. In this age of Trump, I’m stirred to worry that his hateful diatribes triggered someone to actually start fires in California just to own the libs. That’s unfortunately the sort of mentality that seems possible among that cult.

Coffee and I have again embraced one another, observing the Sunday tradition set upon by myself about half a century ago. Hope you have a solid day. Here’s the music for you. Cheers

Floofcake

Floofcake (floofinition)1. Term of endearment for a sweet animal. Origins: 1829

In Use: “Rachel often referred to her chubby yorkie as her floofcake, an expression which the dog accepted but did not like.”

2. Wrestling move by many animals to dominate others by throwing their dead weight down on them. Origins: 1932, United States

In Use: “No more than twelve pounds when she was wet, Caramel would put herself on top of Cassie and pin Cassie in bed like Caramel weighed a hundred pounds.”

Saturda’s Theme Music

Mood: Fogbound

Rolling out of bed and ambulating down the hall, I checked the windows where my eyes met a wall of fog. Inspiration seizing me, I reversed course and dropped my head back into its indentation on my pillow. A floof’s unending breakfast song forced a reassessment of my moment after an indeterminant amount of additional Zzzs. I rolled back out of my warm coccoon of sheets and blankets and gave it the old Ashlandia try once more.

This is Saturday. January 11. 2025.

Yarp, fog socks us in. 37 F, air stagnation advisory, high of 42 expected, sunshine is being offered if we can slip fog’s tenacious grasp. Then it might be a pretty day.

Or not. As the barista related to me yesterday morning, “I was on the phone with my room mate and she said, ‘Oh, it’s a pretty day. Think I’ll go outside and do something.’ Then, five minutes later, it was foggy and pouring rain.” Yep, and it didn’t stop until daylight no longer let us in on what was going on outside.

The state of fog has fog-themed music energizing The Neurons. But some of ’em were hooked on an earlier thought about breakfast. Shuffling around, The Neurons pulled up Breakfast in America. Released in 1979, the album gained a life in my music rotation. See, this was back in an era when I bought music albums. Through tech’s evolution, the media shifted. Vinyl, tape, CD, whatev, we hooked the album up with the appropriate device and played the album. By then, I was 23 and made enough money that I could drop $8 on a new album now and again. Put it in perspective, gasoline was less than a dollar a gallon and a cup of coffee was usually less than two. Also, phone service was waaaayyyy cheaper and we didn’t have the net. We in the U.S. had cable and paid less than ten a month for basic.

So you’d take your new album home and play and listen to it while cleaning the house, washing and waxing the car, making and eating meals, and other activities. Happened with sufficient frequency that the songs came to be known in order. Every note and nuance was etched into The Neurons’ aural wetware. Today, they began playing the album for me in my morning mental music stream (Trademark droppy).

First song up is a guitar & keyboard-driven offering to Hollywood, “Gone Hollywood”. Supertramp wasn’t happy about the place at first. Complaints about life and Hollywood interspersed with moody sax playing. Real picker-up with lyrics like, “Ain’t nothing new in my life today. Ain’t nothing true, it’s all gone away.”

But the self-pity fades after the guitar solo and musical bridge. A more upbeat mood takes over. “I’m the talk of the boulevard. So keep your chin up boy, forget the pain, I know you’ll make it if you try again. There’s no use quitting when the world is waiting for you.”

Then there’s the rest of the album. Several hits on there. “The Logical Song.” “Goodbye Stranger.” “Take the Long Way Home.” Yeah, you might know those, if you’re of a certain age and musical preference, or if you drove around with the automobile’s music turned to pop stations in the 1980s.

The fog hasn’t let up but coffee and I made a pact, and it’s going to carry me through the trough of the day. Be good, be real. Here’s the music, and off we go, into the wild gray yonder.

Cheers

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