Current political events and trends in the United States got you down? Are you, like me, frustrated and angry about what’s happening to the United States under the Trump Regime? Are you appalled by how PINO Trump and his minions are trampling the Constitution and the balance of power? Maybe you’re ready for VoodooByMoodoo.
The chances that standard law and order, court rulings, or Congress will address Trump’s lawless ways seem to be dimming. Maybe Voodoo is the answer. At the least, it might provide some stress release as you stick a pin in a little orange doll. Maybe, with luck, you’ll nail his brain or heart. I wouldn’t bet on either; both are incredibly tiny. They said evidence of either were not found during his last physical. The physician pretended
VoodooByMoodoo. When nothing else seems to work. After all, we’re dealing with a lot of zombies out there.
They call themselves MAGA.
Borrowed from Teri Seitz @teri-teri-boberry.bsky.social.
My body and mind were unanimous. More sleep was wanted. Yesterday was busy with an Easter Brunch. We’d been preparing all week. 10:15, we set off to go help with setup. By 11:30, all were there. A smorgasbord awaited. Mexican quiche, salmon with asparagus, salmon and cream cheese rolls. Dutch babies and lemon cake for dessert. Salads. Juices and libation to make it chippier. Easter egg hunt and korn hole. A half dozen present shared their latest stories about demonstrating against Trump in Ashland and Medford. 2 PM, it was all over.
Over to a friend’s house for his 93rd birthday. Just family and my wife and I. He has health issues and didn’t want a gathering. After singing the birthday song, witnessing the candle blowout, and visiting for two hours, we headed home to unpack and wash everything.
Blue skies were the day’s order. Light wind kept it from becoming too warm. 69 F was the tops. Today seems like it looked over yesterday’s shoulder and copied the weather.
I reminded my body and mind that sleeping in wasn’t an option. Today is Food & Friends deliveries. Crank up the car, pick up the food, and roll through the streets on route 3 to knock on doors and ring bells and drop off a small meal in southeastern Ashlandia. I’m the driver; my wife makes the deliveries.
Then, finally, it’ll be back to writing at the coffee shop for a few hours, and then home to wash clothes and attend yard work. The grass and weeds are gladded by the sunshine. It’s all shooting up fast.
Papi is beside himself with happiness by the time the air warms. It’s rolled up to 49 F now. He heads outside and sniffs out the sunshine. Then wind sniffs him out and he’s back in. It’s a never-ending game of ‘In & Out’!
The mountain air loads the night with temperatures that dribble down into the mid thirties. That temp feels colder. But we’re on the regular Ashlandia spring track. Only troubling thing is we’re not seeing any bees. They’re normally all over the place with their buzzing presence. Their absence disturbs.
Yesterday’s Easter Trump dump again illuminated his pathetic ways. That vitriol and lie-filled text mess is a sign of an insecure, demented, ignorant person. Trump’s dark forces again rose to show what a sinister and ugly place the United States is becoming under his hand as two young and wholly innocent German tourists were detained and deported, all for the crime of not having accommodations already reserved. Such fools are now in charge. Then there’s Trump’s undocumented bullshit broadside against Abrego Garcia. WTF, United States. Is this truly your vision?
With those thoughts spinning through my groovy organic thought machine, The Neurons spun up Aerosmith in the morning mental music stream: “Same Old Song and Dance”. Last time I used this ditty was in 2019. Trump occupied the White House then. I wrote back on that day,
Reading the news yesterday and today, I was shaking my head, partially laughing while crying. You know, it was the same old story.
That led to me streaming Aerosmith.
It’s the same old story Same old song and dance, my friend It’s the same old story Same old story Same old song and dance
It was an easy song to identify with when I was a teenager and the song was released. When you asked questions, you often heard, “That’s just how it is. That’s how it goes.” It was always the same old song and dance, no matter what you were asked.
So here we go. Trump is attacking and bullying whatever he can — law, courts, common sense, history, morality, it’s all open to a Trump attack. He’s like a puppy gnawing on clothes, shoes, and furniture. Nothing is safe from his brainless chewing. A puppy does far less damage, though. A puppy will grow out of it. Trump, with his deteriorating and aging mental capacity, will get worse.
Same ol’ story, same ol’ song and dance.
Have the best day you can, my friend. Fueled with coffee, I’ll rock on for another day, it seems. Cheers
I’m just a Venn diagram. I’m at a point where massive disappointment in my nation fills me. I didn’t expect the GOP to fight Trump. It saddens me that I’m right. They just rolled over and became the Grand Ol’ Trump Party.
Pisses me off that the Trump Regime thumbs its nose at the law, treating elements like due process as something beneath them. Unfortunately, I predicted this when Trump was campaigning in 2024. So did many others. They laughed at us. But Trump said he would be a dictator on day one. We knew that wasn’t a joke.
Politically, I’m angry, disgusted, disappointed, and a whole dark rainbow of other negative energies about what’s going on from bullshit tariffs to the damaged economy to the ridiculous and unlawful gutting of the Federal government to — well, fill in the blank.
But it’s a sunny and warm spring day. Promise is in the air. I’m getting ready for beer with friends on Wednesday. They’re intelligent, good friends. I’m looking forward to seeing them. Preparing for a secular Easter brunch with friends on Sunday. That’ll have bittersweet toppings drizzled over it. Some of the regulars are gone. Others are in hospice.
Writing is fun and full of promise. That puts me in a very positive frame. A novel draft is finished, and so many other novels are lined up, eager to be written. But will that finished draft hold up in the next round of editing and revision? Then there’s the publishing game. That closes the damper on my enthusiasm.
Mom texts me and reminds me that she wants to be cremated. Do what we will with the ashes. Play Glenn Miller at her service. Hold it in the garden. She’s lived almost nine decades but she endures hourly pain and discomfort. Her quality of life can be categorized as miserable.
Down to one cat, my cativities are truncated from what they once were. An air of depression clouds that aspect of life.
Financially, my wife and I are okay. Viewing my health, I can be better or worse. Got all my limbs. They function well. I endure little regular pain on a daily basis. I’m not as strong nor limber as I used to be, and my hair is trekking away from my forehead. Memory still works for most of the time on most of the days.
My wife’s health is not as good. She searches for words more often and doesn’t find them. She’s developed a new habit of forgetting to turn things on or off. She’s bitter and angry with the world, especially with Trump, and the Roberts Court. She’s furious and anxious about women’s rights. Shoulder and back pain are building up their frequent flier miles with her.
So, I am here. In the middle of it all, happy and sad. Worried and hopeful. Bitter and angry. Joyful and loving. Loved and frustrated. I read of far worse situations for people. Like those in Gaza. Ukraine. Immigrants hunting a better existence for themselves and those they love. War and disaster refugees trying to find a home. People working hard and struggling harder. Sleeping in cars and hanging on for meals and help. Women and people of color hiding, living in fear, beaten and killed for who they are. People with a gender that doesn’t fall cleanly into male or female dismissed as less than equal, unaccepted by narrow-minded bigots. People starving to death as billionaires pile up more money and more property, self-pleasuring themselves with mindless greed.
We seem so far away from Star Trek‘s ideals and so much closer to Mad Max, Solyent Green, and The Handmaid’s Tale.
Is today a holiday or a travesty? Talking about former POTUS reporting to the court in New York. Some decry it all as political theater. Others shout, “‘Bout friggin’ time.” More wail, “No, presidents and former presidents are sacrosanct and should NEVER be arrested.” More say, “Hey, none of us are supposed to be above the law.” That’s where I stand. No one is above the law. Investigate and present the evidence, hear the arguments. Let a court decide. It’s a balancing act.
It is interesting to note that so many conservatives, solid law and order supporting individuals, are claiming this isn’t part of law and order, declaiming that there is no evidence, etc., whenever the law at any level focuses on Trump. Mind you, he’s been screaming to lock people up, especially political opponents but also anyone who crosses or displeases him. Evidence also keeps emerging that he kept trying to weaponize the Justice Department, especially the FBI, during his term. Then he tried to fire those people he appointed and wanted to lock them up because they wouldn’t do as he bid.
It’s Tuesday, April 4, 2023. We have more April snow on the ground. Just a wet inch which is already fleeing, vampire like, from the thin sunshine squeezing in past clouds. The surrounding mountains have much more snow to the east. Good for the base and the needs for our other seasons, growing things like hemp and marijuana, wine grapes, barley, and hops, and feeding us all with the valley’s network of organic farms. Better, the rain and snow will help the region combat wildfires this year. Yeah, fingers crossed, as always.
The discussion about the former POTUS and his legal situation and the country’s political atmosphere has The Neurons pulling David Bowie’s music out of the mental cellar, putting it into the morning mental music stream. “Law (Earthlings On Fire)” came out in 1997. The song’s main refrain is, “I don’t want knowledge, I want certainty.” Feels like that’s a weighty component of what’s happening in the U.S. at this point. I don’t know. I’ve not had coffee yet.
Stay pos. and have a magnificent Tuesday, baby. Coffee is standing by. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 