Twosday’s Wandering Political Thoughts
It started with a conversation about President Biden pardoning his son. My wife said, “I was fine with that but I’m angry, too. He took care of his family but why didn’t he do more to stop Trump?”
She remains very angry about the election. Understanding that she holds onto anger, I don’t expect her to be over it for another twelve to fourteen years. Even then, she won’t ‘be over it’. A lifelong feminist, she already sees men encouraged to be bigger assholes when it comes to how women are treated in the United States.
She went on about how she thought President Biden should have started building protections against Trump as soon as it was known Trump won in 2024. Stirring up my inner devil’s advocate, I countered her.
“Why should President Biden do that? Why should he need to fight so hard to prove the economy is doing well? Trump’s conviction was aired, as were the other charges against him. So was his bizarred fucking behavior, like fellatio with a microphone. He’s a disgusting damn individual and he constantly display that. Meanwhile, Biden was fixing many things. Why should he need to beat the drums hard and loud for so many great things accomplished under his administration? Maybe when Trump won, Biden said, ‘Fuck it. If those voters want Trump, a convicted felon and known liar and cheat with no morals or scruples to be president, bring it on. They deserve what they get.'”
I don’t believe for a second that President Biden thought those words. He’s more honorable than that. No, that was all me as a fictional, enraged President Biden. Then again, me as an enraged fictional President Biden would have forced his DOJ to go harder after Trump as part of the big picture; you let anyone get above the law, you’ve lost.
Sure, many are having voter regrets. But I think most of them will take the shit Trump dumps on them, gloss it over, and call it a good thing. There’s just too much willful ignorance for me to conclude otherwise.
Twosday’s Theme Music
Mood: Twosdayized
28 degrees, Twosday come into the valley with sunshine, blue skies, and patchy fog. The day hovers in the liminal folds between autumn and winter, that murky zone called autner. Feels like it could get colder. Feels like clouds could march in and dump snow. But the sunshine claims it might get warmer. In fact, some forecasters insist, as they have on previous days, that today’s high will crack the fifties and stalk the upper edges toward sixty. But the valley’s stagnant air messes with the forecasting process. Yesterday’s high attained 45 F when 56 F was supposed to be the ceiling. So, I’m not planning to see 56 F today.
This stagnant air is weird. A still, windless phenomena, the chill it carries creeps through everything. You dress for much colder air and the house heating works hard because that creeping chill.
Going through the valley yesterday to shop, I saw that a thin line of brown pollution rimmed the more populated western region. Get used to that, I thought. Trump and his clown cabinet will cut regulations. “Business,” they’ll shout, and the sheeple shout, “Yes. Business first.” Business means prosperity, right? Wage increases. Profits. Bull market.
Most of the sheeple fail to understand that the government and economy worked better under Democratic control. Their limited memories don’t pull up the dark, sooty airs the United States experienced in the 1960s and 1970s before the EPA and their pesky regs came out and ordered, “Thou shall not pollute.” Nor do they comprehend the impact on health that it brings, and the reciprical effect on productivity and costs due to worker illness and absences. They don’t think that fucking deep. Or course, it’s hard to do so with Republicans bleating otherwise in a 24/7 cacophony. And it’s hard to remember and think whn your education is being hamstrung with teachings about how Jesus saved the world and climate change is a hoax, and look! Illegals! Trans! Woke! They also believe that wealthy people won’t hoard their wealth but will spread it around like fertilizer and turn everything cash green for everyone.
Yes, they are fucking fools.
Sigh. On to other matters.
We shopped at Costco. It’s been a go-to for us since the early 1990s. Our local Costco was moderately busy on a Monday afternoon. Mostly older shoppers. Ahem. Like us. As we entered and began our prowl, my wife shouted at the milling shoppers, “What about inflation?” She’s still riled up about that. I told her, “Babe, they’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna get worse. This is Doomsday shopping. They’re out here trying to get deals and soothe their troubled minds with food and toys to help them when reality crashes in.”
Being the second day of the workweek, it’s natural that this is called Twosday. Many don’t realize that the first spelling for ‘two’ or 2 was tue. Somehow, as the language and alphabet swelled into its current shape, tue became two. But the day of the week was already cemented in influential calendar makers, so Tuesdays remained.*
* Yes, that was all b.s.
Today’s music came out in 2020, while lockdown was prevalent. Being retired, I don’t work, so the song doesn’t really address me and my grips. But The Neurons called it up because I’ve been muttering to myself, “I need to get back to the coffee shop and get back to work on my writing.” Ding ding ding. The Neurons had a piece of “Work” by Pop Evil in the morning mental music stream (Trademark being worked): “All I do is work!”
Alright, coffee and I have come to an agreement. I will make it and pour it into my watering hole, and it will kick my energy up. Look up, open your eyes, and breathe deep. Time for another Twosday to be vanquished. Here’s the music. Cheers
Cyber Mundaye
Heads up, everyone! It’s Cyber Mundaye.
I know, I was taken by surprise, too. Fortunately, I saw sixteen zillion and seventeen emails alerting me to Cyber Mundaye. Deleting them, I almost forgot it was Cyber Mundaye. Fortunately, many pages that I clicked on had banners, headlines, or popups declaring Cyber Mundaye.
Thank Dog we have technology to remind us it’s Cyber Mundaye. What would we do without it?
Non-humor Wandering Thoughts
Beetleypete offers some mindchews to go with your daily libation. Cheers
Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts
Alexa, we have a problem.
Alexa is Amazon’s ‘virtual assistance’. It’s useful to me for telling me the weather and the news if I ask it. But its recent behavior has undercut my trust in it. Observe.
Night had come on shift. My home weather system said that it was 30 degrees F outside. The sudden downturn surprised me. I wondered if it was right and how cold it would get as it was still early in the evening. So I asked Alexa for the weather.
“It’s 35 degrees in Ashland. Tonight’s low will be 35 degrees.”
Okay, that seemed cool. (No pun intended, because it was cold, no cool. Obs.) I’m on Ashlandia’s southern end, at a slightly higher elevation. Our mountain’s shadows climb over us early and get off us later, as we’re in the valley’s pinched, closing end. I’m not sure where the station is where Alexa gets its weather but it seems to be down where the sun keeps it warm longer. NBD.
A little later, I noticed my system said it was 28 F. I didn’t expect it to keep getting colder after Alexa told me the low would be 35. To Alexa I went. “Alexa, what’s the temperature?”
“It’s 30 degrees in Ashland. Tonight’s low will be 30 degrees.”
Well, wait a minute. That’s not what the system said before.
An hour later, my system said it was 25 degrees. Rinse and repeat with Alexa: “It’s 26 degrees in Ashland. Tonight’s low will be 24.”
What the serious actual fuck? What good is a system that calls out predictions and then indifferenctly changes them? I thought the idea behind her telling me what the high or low will be is to help me plan.
Of course, I asked Alexa about it. It played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I also asked it where its weather station was. “Hmm,” it said. “I don’t understand your question.”
I repeated it in multiple variations. “Hmm,” Alexa said. “Let me get back to you.”
I’m still waiting.
Sunday’s Theme Music
Mood: sunpleastic
December 1! Here at last. Turn the page and count down the days until your holiday of choice and the end of this year as the majority reckon it here in ‘Merica.
That cold front from out of the Arctic is still dominating. Sunday, it’s 32 F out there. Cold air throws our valley. See, that doesn’t work there, does it? Although through is a synonym for blanket, it only works in that capacity as a noun, not a verb. No wonder we’re so often confused.
While it’s 32 F now, that’s up froom the 18 that greeted me at dawn’s start a few hours back. 56 is the whispered high. We’ll see. Yesterday’s projected high was never approached. I think we topped out at 40 F. We have a stagnant air alert going on, and that always affects the temperature’s dance moves.
From a dream comes today’s theme music, “Beat It”. The 1983 Michael Jackson hit is in my morning mental music stream (Trademark icy) after a dream began playing it when the dream faded out. No credits were rolled for the dream, though. I have no idea who produced or directed it. I did star in it but I don’t know the other stars. They weren’t recognized. That’s not to say that they’re not stars in their own rights; I only have access to my dreams. They may have starred in other dreams which were only released to the individual having them.
“Beat It” came out when I was living on Okinawa, an island that’s part of Japan, and site of a major Pacific battle in dubya dubya two. I was there for almost four years as part of my military service. My neighbor, Carol, was so excited about this song and its video. In retrospect, she was a Michael Jackson fan girl. I was okay with the song. Has some interesting vocal and musical elements and tones. I don’t know why it was chosen for the dream’s closing sequence. It didn’t seem at all related to the dream’s context and action. I queried The Neurons about it but they’re as transparent as brick.
Hope your Sunday is a good one and a fine start to December. Coffee and I have renewed our vows and I’m sipping in bliss. Here’s the music. This video shows Slash from GNR standing in to interpret Van Halen’s original solo guitar. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers
Sa’day’s Wandering Thoughts
When I was a child, I asked Mom, “Why are some streets named streets, and some are boulevards, avenues, drives, and roads. What’s the difference?” Mom replied with some vexation, “I don’t know.” Wasn’t my first disappointment with the realization that Mom didn’t know everything.
Needless to say, I was pretty excited when I heard Steven Wright ask, “Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?”
Yes! Finally, someone is going to explain. He didn’t answer it, though. Bummer.
I’m always hungry to learn something new. I’m fortunate that my wife has a like spirit, athough hers vectors toward learning about women’s rights, social justice, and sex and dating trends. So she keeps me covered in that area. We share responsibility and coverage on politics, literature, and pop culture. I’m on my own regarding STEM and history.
Over the years, I’ve gleaned insights into streets and all the variations. An e-letter I received, Word Smarts, shed more light on the differences between Interstate, freeway, expressway, parkway, highway, turnpike, and frontage road. It’s a start. Meanwhile, here’s some classic deadpan Wright one-liners.
Michael Seidel, writer 