Four women were chatting at a nearby table at the coffee shop. Appearing similar in age to me, two women dominated the talking. One was short and slender, with fair skin and dark, bobbed hair. The other was tanner and smaller. Smiling a lot, her silver hair fell around her shoulders.
They were talking about toothpaste. Looking up from my writing, I tuned in as the first woman said, “I put a pea-sized amount on my brush.”
One of the other women, heavy, with dry brown hair that came to her shoulders, loudly, sharply scoffed. “That’s not enough.”
The first woman replied, “That’s what the directions say to use.”
The brown-haired woman snorted. “Everyone knows you’re supposed to put toothpaste on all the bristles, from one end to the other.”
The conversation fell still for several seconds. “Anyway,” the first woman resumed.
It was a complex dream, shifting as ocean waves with a brisk wind. As I thought about it, I distilled it into these general scenes, but it wasn’t quite this linear.
Younger, I was sometimes in the military, sometimes in some other work, seamlessly moving from one to the other from scene to scene. Most of the background was dark, but as if I was in office buildings.
At one point, a guy came by and gave me a silver computer. “Your instructions are on here,” he said. I nodded, understanding, ready to go to work, confident about how to proceed.
Opening the laptop, I brought up the guidance and sat back in surprise. These instructions were different. No worries; I’d figure it out. Probably just take longer.
I was called into another area. It was a small space, and dark. In there were two high-ranking Air Force general officers, small but slender and fit. I wasn’t there to see them. Passing behind the higher ranking one, I heard him describing someone.
I said without thinking, “Oh, you’re talking about – “
I stopped myself from finishing the sentence because I felt I’d overstepped. Then I apologized.
The general gave me a sharp look and then nodded once. “You’re right. Good job.”
Leaving there, I went back to my dark office space and reclaimed my seat, reading to resume my work. Two other people came by. They’d received their instructions but weren’t sure how to do it.
Laughing, I gave them some insights about how to proceed. We chatted for a few more seconds before they left and I resumed work, pleased about what I was doing.
Spring endures in Ashland. 48, blue skies, clouds, sunshine, high in the mid-sixties expected.
Mom endures in her assisted living facility. My sister couldn’t do the things she enumerated yesterday. Mom remains in the assisted living facility and seems agreeable to selling her house. However, she’s trying to manipulate us in other ways, according to my sister. She said Mom wrote a long text that she wanted sis to share with all of us. My sister refused. Life.
My plumbing endures. Mixed results with the plumber yesterday. Both shutoff valves replaced at the toilets, but the plumber felt only one had a leaking wax seal. When he pulled it, lo, the wood under it was soaked. So, wax ring replaced, toilet put back, but now we need to send someone under the house to examine that area. I’ve been under the house; not fun. We have a low, low crawlspace. But I don’t have the expertise needed for this kind of assessment. Thought about using different cameras to see what it looks like. Still noodling that.
Trump endures, too. It is remarkable but many speculate that Trump staged the attempt on him. While Trump blames ‘the left’, he continues to incite hatred and violence toward others while asking that we be nicer to him.
Part of this is that Trump is a documented liar and cheat. He wants to be feared, liked, respected, admired. As part of his ‘weave’, he’ll say anything but that’s shredded his credibility. We know now he makes grandiose promises and bizarre accusations and declarations; it’s all just air.
Doesn’t help, neither, that within hours of the attempt, Trump was calling to build his White House ballroom because, “Security!” But the WHCD was not in the White House. Even if the ballroom had been done, it wouldn’t have affected what happened at the WHCD.
I will also say that even if Cole Tomas Allen left behind a ‘manifesto’ and seems to have a life, Hollywood has convinced me that creating a legend like that is very possible. While I don’t particularly believe the Trump administration is sanguine enough to get it done, there are some high-tech security firms in his corner who could do it. If I believe Hollywood, so could the CIA.
Why not? It’s the age of deep fakes and AI.
With Trump not being held accountable for his lies and behavior, it’ll probably because worse as others attempt to emulate and duplicate his success as a con artist. More troubling is how his actions undermine our trust and belief in authority.
Meanwhile, the squeeze is on U.S. farmers. They’re in a bad situation: diesel is up, fertilizer is up, interest rates are up, available migrant labor is down, and droughts are in the forecast.
“Data from the USDA show that soybean exports to China, as of March 19, are about half the amount they were last year.”
Reminder: we’re into the eighth week of the Trump Iran War. He has no exit plan.
Reminder: the Epstein files have not been completely released.
Reminder: Trump’s popularity is declining and prices are rising.
Expect some new Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! breaking news soon.
“Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)” ended up in my morning mental music stream. So many bricks being put into place between what we were, what we could become. Trump builds walls to divide and separate, keep the poor in misery and empower the wealthy, along with walls against equality, freedom, science, and education.
Hope you end up in the best possible place when this day is finished. Onward.
My wife and I had a mini-staycation yesterday. First we went to the matinee performance of a play, “Come From Away”. Dinner out at a Mexican restaurant followed.
The Oregon Shakespeare Festival staged the play. A musical, the book is based on the 9/11 attacks and Gander, Newfoundland, Canada, when 39 aircraft and almost 7,000 people were diverted to the island after US and Canadian airspace was closed after the terrorist attacks.
The play was energetic and uplifting. Production values and performances were superb. Afterward, we thought, it must have physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. Each actor played several rolls. They often picked up and carried chairs with them, representing their carry-on bags. Chairs and tables were re-arranged to be council meetings, diners, air-traffic control towers, buses, and aircraft.
Gander was only a place of 9,000 itself, but with one of the largest airfields in the world. That airfield had been built during the early days of transatlantic travel, when a final fuel top off was needed to cross the ocean. Aircraft landed there coming and going from Europe.
The people of Gander were powerfully represented as caring and giving. Differences were set aside to come together to help all these travelers cope with trying circumstances. Passengers had no idea what had happened for hours. Those who spoke little English, who came from places where martial law ruled, were terrified when soldiers arrived and began ordering them off the aircraft and onto buses.
One person took it upon herself to find the animals in the aircraft and ensure they had food, water, medicine, and care. There was a lot of singing, dancing, and explanation, along with a new romance, and the end of an old one.
Most interesting, high school students also attended. Many of them were confused about what was going on. While those of us born well before 9/11 were transfixed by history and our own memories, these young people were frequently baffled. History was explained to them after the play was over.
Last, most compelling, was the juxtaposition of the times. Here we are, so very polarized by the American president, Donald Trump, and his policies. Establishing guidelines that cuts the legs off of empathy and sympathy, giving speeches which demeans anyone who isn’t American, indeed, anyone who doesn’t support him, there we were, watching people coming together to help one another. It is especially poignant now, as Trump trashes Canada again and again, while declaring himself the ‘unity president’.
Watching the play was a very, very powerful experience. I highly recommend seeing it, if you ever have the chance.
It was a fascinating dream for me. When I awoke from it, I thought, I’d been watching a television show or movie. With a bit of surprise, I then realized I’d been in the dream, along with my wife and two children, which were my offspring. But I was both involved by watching as a minor character and sort of injected into some scenes.
My wife and children and I were tourists processing through some station. Aliens were there; sort of Klingon-like, in light grey blue uniforms with a jacket which has a deep red collar and a matching red shirt under it.
While traveling, all of us are stopped by these others who basically want to enslave us. It’s a troubling scene. I’m passive with my wife, not sure what will happen to us verses the others because we’re human and are supposed to have a different status. Nonetheless, we’re detained with the rest.
There’s then a scene where our captor and one of the captives go back and forth about what’s go be done in this cave where we’re being held. I realize that they’re having a disagreement over a matter of reference and perspective.
The captor keeps saying, ‘to your right’, and the other keeps saying, ‘that doesn’t make sense’. I then try to clarify that the captor is talking about the direction from the way he’s facing, while the captive is facing the opposite direction.
I end up getting up and pointing this out on a diagram they have posted on an easel.
We then ‘watch’ as captives are taken to another place to mine stuff. I don’t know what they’re mining. They make a show of it. I then suddenly realize that they’re secretly mining knowledge.
When the captive of before decides they’d learned enough, he reveals that he has a weapon. Shaped like an obelisk – really, just like a foot tall reproduction of the Washington monument, but shiny, silver-gold – the captive holds it up. Pressing a button, he sends a signal.
Suddenly, all these other dead, sleeping, and collapsed aliens awaken and rise. Each of them are equipped with a like obelisk. Using these, they overpower their captors.
As my wife and I watch, we realize that the revolution has begun.
I drove into a Trader Joe’s parking lot to park and shop. I was driving my old white BMW 2002, a car I haven’t owned since I left Germany in 1991. It made ‘dream sense’ because I was about the age I was when I owned the car.
The parking lot’s left side was completely empty, bewildering me — why wasn’t anyone parked there? A large sign, facing the wrong way, explained not to park on the left side. Oh.
I moved my car. An older couple, dressed in fancy clothes, was there. I told them as I walked away from my car, “It would help if the sign faced the entrance, you know? Is something going on here today?”
They didn’t answer me but I heard the man saw as I walked away, “He’ll find out.” The woman tittered.
The store was busy inside. I decided to put down my cloth shopping bags for a moment and put them on a chair back by the older couple. Inside, shopping, I decided that I would buy a few things and picked up a frozen dessert that attracted my eye. As I thought about buying a few more things, I remembered that I’d left my shopping bags on that chair and rushed back to get them.
The bags were gone. I searched all over, but they were definitely gone. Morose, I returned inside to buy the frozen dessert.
Going back, my car was parked elsewhere but I knew where. It was also not my white BMW, but my wife’s gray Ford Focus. I went to the car’s right side to get in. Then I stepped back out and looked again where it was parked. The car to the left was so close, that door — which should be the driver’s side door — couldn’t be opened. I thought, it’s a good thing that I don’t drive on that side. Yet, I knew, with some confused reflection, driving is done from the car’s left side, not the right.
I was driving at the point and discovered a passenger, a pregnant young woman reading a book. First, I noticed that the book had my name on the front, but, startled by her presence, I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you there.”
She replied, “I’m Gail. My daughter was with you when you were driving an SUV in a foreign land, a wild country. She wanted to visit you because she’s worried.”
Driving, I wondered and asked, “Is your daughter born yet?”
Gail answered, “No, but she’s due.”
I then turned left. The road ended and I was suddenly driving through a woods heavy with water puddles and thick, black mud. Gail said, “I want to get out here.”
“No,” I replied. “I don’t know what happened to the road but I’m turning around. I’ll take you back and let you out.”
I whipped the car around and was back on the road in a few seconds. Gail got out. I opened the hatchback to put a bicycle in because I knew it was mine. Then I wondered, why is my bike here?
Yes, it’s a day that ends with the letter y. That means that PINO Trump is letting loose with another fact-free, incredibly stupid text. In this case, Trump is declaring that he as 47 has won the Nobel Prize in Physics. This is so mind-jarringly freakin’ insane that I had to vet it several times.
In a post on his Truth Social platform Thursday, Trump appeared to take credit for the Nobel Prize in Physics, which was awarded to physicists John Clarke, Michel Devoret and John Martinis earlier this month for their discoveries related to quantum mechanics in 1984 and 1985.
Trump cited a statement, attributed to Energy Secretary Chris Wright, which appears to give the president credit over the experiments conducted decades ago.
See, Chris Wright is not the name of any of the physicists who won the Nobel Prize in Physics.
But Trump in his alternate reality thinks one of them is named Chris Wright. Chris Wright, a former CEO. Crazy Donnie’s statement states, “Chris Wright: ‘A former Lawrence Berkeley National Lab scientist won the Nobel Prize in physics for work in Quantum physics. Quantum computing, along with AI and Fusion, are the three signature Trump science efforts. Trump 47 racks up his first Nobel Prize!!’”
Chris Wright.
John Clarke, Michel Devoret, John Martinis.
Those names are not at all similar. To claim it as an honest mistake is all kinds of BS.
Further, though, and worse, Trump chalks this up as a victory for himself. He had nothing to do with any of it. What a liar and a fool he’s proven himself to be once again. But as Nan put it, yet, yet, yet, Trumpets are quite satisfied with this idiot leading them.
What unthinking, foolish sheeple they are in MAGAland. But as we’ve seen, they don’t care until they’re personally affected.
Fridaz political observations from the worldwide net to anger and amuse you, and one to remind you to hope.
Interesting, innit?
Outrageous. A person who never served and has no honor, denying what they earned through their service and honor. What a travesty the United States is becoming under TACO.Looks like someone visited a cheap hobby store.
Michael Seidel, writer 