Thirstdaz Theme Music

Thirstda, September 18, 2025, has landed on Earth. It’s a quiet one in Ashlandia, comfortable with low level aircraft humming, yard work, and cars and trucks busy on missions. 77 F, cloud cover is giving shade and humidity. Thunderstorm’s sullen weight presses down. Today’s high will be 79 F, and the air quality is 30, which is good.

It was a rockin’ night so I’m beginning late. After daring to eat three small pieces of cheese pizza during a going-away fete for a friend, my gallbladder leaped up in indignation at 5 AM. Puking and pain accompanied the passing hours. I bolted down a quarter of an oxy and an Ondansetron. Sleep played keep away. I didn’t get out of bed to anything past the bedroom until after noon, when the pains finished their kicks and let me alone.

While lying there, The Neurons filled the morning mental music stream with “I Heard it Through the Grapevine”. The Neurons alternated between Marvin Gaye’s offering and CCR’s long pop rock rendition. I’m playing both for y’all.

My friends and I briefly discussed Charlie Kirk’s life and death last night. I amused myself with a test, repeating what I’ve been hearing so often about Kirk trying to open dialogues and have conversations with the other side. My companions were shaking their heads before I was halfway through. “He was trying to control and manipulate facts and conversation,” I paraphrase them as saying. “He was muddying the waters about facts. And he supported Trump and brought young men into the Trump camp based on hate and lies.”

So, there we go. Meanwhile, we march on toward censorship as Trump flexes government power through agencies such as the FTC. The right wing, always willing to exercise hypocrisy, vociferously thumped liberals, progressives, and Democrats as cancelling others. Yet, here we are, with corporate toadies seeking FTC approval to merge and buy more entertainment and news outlets, bowing to Trump and firing folks. So it goes too at various companies. Point out what Kirk said at your employment peril. Echo his words and they cry, “Foul.” They’re purifying his image, granting him sainthood in the name of the father, son, and Donald Trump. Such enablers, firing people for speaking their minds, are as cheap and tawdry as the plated gold pieces in Trump’s Offal Office. Eventually, they’ll have a gold-plated little dictatorship. It’ll be called the United States but it’ll only resemble the founders’ vision in name. And those tawdry enablers will wonder, what the fuck happened. Fools.

Time to rock and roll. Hope peace and grace get here in time to save our nation. Hugs ‘n cheers to all, M

Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, September 15, 2025, has settled in against a backdrop of clear blue skies and warm sunshine. Summer is hanging on, taking us from overnight lows in the lower fifties to an 85 F high. All things end, though, and summer’s last days are coming on in the northern hemes.

I spoke to Dad this morning. He’s still in the rehab center. His voice was not strong. This latest ordeal really seemed to suck his life energy out of him. But…it might also be that he had just gotten out of a very hot shower and said he was sleepy. On a more positive side, my wife seems over her illness. She ate yesterday, picked up a book and read, and went to exercise class this morning.

Had a storm of dreams again last night. Went from being in the military trying to get a haircut to being in charge of a process with IBM and ISS, the Internet security companies where I worked, to recover and shut down security equipment. The latter was a messy, disorganized affair, and no one had done anything, so I was taking it on. Out of the blue toward the end, three young women, teenagers, really, appeared to help me with the computers. They weren’t much assistance at first, as they lacked knowledge but they were eager and energetic. With their help, I began wrangling the mess into something bearing some coherency.

Back to some rock ‘n roll for Munda. I was singing “Honky Tonk Kitty” to Papi this morning after he chirped appreciation for the food being delivered to him. Naturally, my song inspired The Neurons to fire up memory of the Rolling Stones tune in the morning mental music stream, as it’s quite similar to what I was singing.

Today’s project is about getting tree branches cut back from the neighboring apartment complex. I’d do it but realized that some of the branches are higher than my reach, even if I’m standing on a pile of books on top of a ladder where they tell you not to stand because it’s unsafe. I’ve reached out to the apartment complex to start a dialogue about my needs and intentions. They were out of office, so I left a message. Next steps would be to talk with them and then get estimates and get ‘er done.

Hope peace and grace find and lift you up today and every day. Coffee is doing some heavy lifting in me today. Time to bounce on into the day. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

So we have come to another Sunda. This is September 14, 2025. Thirty days hath September (just checked in my head), so tomorrow reaches the month’s halfway point. With the month’s end, we dip into 2025’s final quarter. It’s 65 F. Rain is in the clouds competing with the sunshine. Wind and trees are into a brisk dance.

Autumn is making solid inroads into our Pacific Northwest outlook. Today’s high will drift toward the mid seventies. My wife said, “I don’t mind it if the temperature drops but I dislike it when it’s so dark in the morning. I miss the morning light.” I totally get that and agree. As she went on to point out, the daylight savings situation doesn’t help, with us facing longer hours of early darkness as we begin our days.

My wife and I are trying to plan a trip back home for Mom’s 90th birthday do. However, my spouse said she experienced flashes of light in her eyes the other day as we went around Crater Lake and descended. She wants to have our eyes checked for problems before committing to flying. She’s not had incidents since that day, a week ago yesterday, and it was storming that day, with thunder and lightning. But she’s quite risk adverse. Having her eyes checked is the prudent thing to do.

I read a Politico piece titled, Trump loves AI, and the MAGA world is getting worried. It’s an interesting topic. I’m not surprised MAGA is generally against AI, as they tend to be people who dislike change and are slow to embrace technology. AI promises both fast change, and it’s advanced technology. Of course, Hollywood and television has fed us a dystopian diet of dire developments from AI. We have fears laced with worries baked into our cultural soul.

Other than that, I turned away from the news. It’s Sunda, a slow news day by design in the digital age. It’s more of a day of recap and reflection. I decided I’d do the same. I don’t know how the rest of the world does these things, but I’ll do it with a cuppa coffee, do some writing, read a book, clean, and converse with my wife. It feels like a good chillin’ day.

I dreamed of many cats last night. As I was digesting all that nocturnal churn, Papi and I went out for an early dose of sunshine and deep breathing. That ginger floof acted kittenish, galloping about, tail swishing, and then bounding into the house and across the rooms as I walked in behind him and laughed at his antics. With the sunshine and Papi’s attitude affecting them, The Neurons burst into the morning mental music stream with “Beautiful Day”. This is a U2 song from 2000, before this mess in America flared to its aggravating proportions. I played a U2 melody yesterday. Normally, I don’t present music from the same group two days in a row but this one worked for the moment, and I let Der Neurons’ choice stand.

Coffee has made incursions into my body. May grace and peace be with you and me and the world today and always. Cheers

Fridaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Unfettered by good sense, morality, or wise advisors, Trump is more frequently turning to violence for answers. A few months ago, he sent the U.S. national guard to LA on trumped up ideas about ‘restoring the city’. All with half a brain knew we were witnessing political theater and an attempt to intimidate anyone who opposes him. He’s threatened or used the same tactics on other cities, including the nation’s capitol, Washington, D.C. Each time, these are ‘blue’ cities, which means the Democratic Party holds many leadership positions. Each time, too, the facts about crime rates and violence which he cites are absolute lies.

Trump employed the U.S. military to attack Iran to destroy their nuclear weapons capabilities. Its success is questionable. Since then, he used the U.S. military to attack and kill eleven people in international waters. He gave no evidence to justify his actions. Acting like the king he thinks he is, he’s decided he has a divine right to attack and kill others if he deems them a threat. He’s shown the same disregard for intelligence, critical thought, and law as his minions employ armed and masked ICE agents to disappear people, regardless of their legal status, often making up questionable reasons for their actions.

Now, when someone who supported him, Charlie Kirk, a person who advocated violence, was killed, Trump blamed, without evidence, ‘radical left violence’. In his catalogue of political violence, Trump never mentions the violence he has advocated. He never mentions his supporters’ attack on Congress on Jan 6. Instead, he pardoned those people and rewarded one who was killed while breaking in and refusing police officer’s orders to stop. As Robert Reich writes, Trump never mentions Democrats who have been shot and killed. Trump calls Democrats enemies of the United States and treats them as such. He likes to make believe that he’s as strong and ethical as fictional characters like Superman.

But Trump, with his words and behavior, continues to display his brand as a bully, a divider who preaches hate. He’s a threat to common sense, peace, and justice, and he needs to face facts for a change and step up and take responsibility for the rising violence and polarization in the United States.

Before it worsens.

Memories

Jill Dennison published a thoughtful post regarding the 9/11 attacks. Like many, I know exactly where I was and what I was doing. For some reason, early that morning, I woke up suddenly ill and went down to the living room at our home in California. Settling on the sofa under a blanket, I turned on the television and heard the news of the first attack. Then, as I watched, I saw the second aircraft strike. It was a very surreal time. My wife recalls it and always comments that it’s not like me to go down and turn on the television like that. She always felt that I had some sort of psychic reaction to the mass deaths that drove me out of sleep.

A Dream of Quinn

I dreamed last night that one of my cats came back to me. His name is Quinn. He was a tiny, long-haired, blackfoot sweetheart. In the dream, I was cleaning a house, dusting, sweeping, etc. The house seemed to be mine although it was no house recognized from real life.

Quinn, back in the day.

Quinn, a meticulously groomed cat, was matted in my dream. Seeing that, I made plans to thoroughly wash him and brush his fur and get it unmatted. Per his personality, Quinn dashed around. An intelligent and inquisitive beast, he always was there to see what was going on, but he despised change, and loud noises unsettled him and sent him scurrying off to a quiet safe place. So, in my dream, I ceased cleaning and making noise and just worked on coaxing Quinn to me and gaining his trust to de-mat him. I was just beginning to do so when the dream ended.

Papi, my current floof-in-residence, asks, why are you dreaming of other cats?

Oddly, awakening from that dream and reflecting on it stirred memories of living with Mom when I was young. Mom’s home would be noisy with cleaning. She’d get up and leap into action. After scrubbing the kitchen, she’d turn on the dishwasher. Next, a load of wash would be started. While dishes and clothes washed, she’d vacuum, creating a cacophony of modern cleaning. Then would be dusting and a thorough attack on the bathroom. We only had one. If home, I’d often be volunteered to vacuum and dust. Mind you, the house was already spotless before Mom started cleaning, but she always cleaned to the nth degree. In reflection, part of her house-cleaning approach was that her home reflected her abilities in her mind. I also think she reveled in the routines and sounds, as well as the results.

The other thing, on days like this, where clouds handicap the sunshine and cool air dishes it to the land, Mom would busy herself with making hot food like chili. Her chili depended on several cans of dark red kidney beans, a large diced white onion, a chopped up green pepper, a tin of tomato paste and another of stewed tomatoes, and a couple pounds of browned hamburger. I know this because I was also volunteered to help with this process.

I learned a lot at Mom’s elbow.

Twozdaz Theme Music

Howdy, sports fans. It’s Twozda, September 9, 2025. 62 degrees F holds forth in Ashlandia. Marbled clouds headline the moment. Never fear: it’s going to move to 69 degrees F by the day’s end, although we may need to navigate more thunder and rain while we get there. Feels like autumn has got its dandruff up and is out to end summer’s hold on Ashland.

Yesterday early afternoon found us with a huge downpour. People rushed into the coffee shop bursting with news about how intense, sudden, and cold the rain was. Brief was added to its description as the rain ceased after ten relentless minutes.

Then, 2:30 AM. A sound is covering the house. My sleepy mind thought it was a giant fan. Asking, what fan is that, I roamed through the house and realized, that giant fan sound was rain hissing down with Biblical efforts. I returned to bed and sleep only to awaken a while later to my wife in the kitchen getting water.

A sharp, high squeal noise had awakened me. I asked my wife if she’d heard it. “It’s raining,” she said.

I listened. “It stopped.”

“No, it’s still going.”

Papi and I went out back to prove the rain was stopped. It was. Cool breezes swept by with friendly helloes. Moonlight bright enough to walk on broke out. Rain clouds were splitting up and racing away in different directions, leaving a starry dark gray feast for my eyes. “This is nice,” I said. Papi didn’t disagree.

After I was back in bed, a sound like a brassy chord being strong on an electric guitar awakened me. “What the hell was that?” The Neurons asked the dark room. Nobody was giving any answers about noises.

Dad remains hospitalized. Not much can be done about a fractured pelvis. He’s due to be moved to a rehab center today. Andy is also being moved to a rehab center to help him recover from his hip fracture. Sis is mum about her medical procedure and its results.

Gritting my teeth and swallowing my GRRRRR, I peruse the news. Trump is suing the WSJ and anyone attached to the story about his ‘alleged’ birthday card/notes to Epstein. I’m sure Trump is betting that the story will be withdrawn and apologies issues. Meanwhile, he donated the Bible his mother presented to him in his boyhood to a Bible Museum. The net responded with laughter and mocking about the Bible. Most doubt that Trump opened his Bible, read it, and went to church, except for publicity when it suited his needs.

More attacks have been carried out in several wars. None of the war reporting arrives with a sense that the fighting is going to end soon. The major aggressors, Russia and Israel, are well past reasonable lines about their intentions. All can see that Russia will not stop until it has Ukraine. Israel won’t stop until Hamas are all dead. Neither nation displays concern or empathy for the innocents they’re killing.

Economic news will take over today’s media top spots. 911,000 fewer jobs were created between April 2024 and March 2025, BLS says. US job growth through March was significantly weaker than previously thought. Economists and analysts are telling us that it means the jobs markets was even worse than realized. A large downward revision was expected, with many citing sampling errors resulting from declining survey responses, weaker-than-inferred job creation at new firms, and adjustments related to asylum-seekers and other undocumented workers. The pandemic’s impact on the global labor market and residual adjustments were also blamed. Trump’s WH thinks that it proves Trump was right, the Biden economy was a disaster, and the BLS reporting is broken. That’s certainly puzzling, isn’t it: the Trump Regime is depending on a system they claim is broken to prove they’re right. Classic MAGAt non-thinking.

All this has culminated in The Neurons’ song choice for my morning mental music stream. It stormed in Ashland, with more storms coming. Trump is riding a storm of criticism about Jeffrey Epstein. We the People are riding through the storm of data about what’s going on with the economy. Hence, The Neurons summoned The Doors and “Riders on the Storm”.

Coffee has dropped in for an extended visit. May grace and peace visit and stay with us all for a while. Here we go again. Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

Autumn is toddling in, dragging cooler air over us. Wildfire smoke adds a gauzy layer to tamp down temperatures. 68 F, clouds scuff up the blue sky. Thunderstorms are expected to drop in, and the temperature will top at a cordial 75 F. This is Munda, September 8, 2025. Our air quality is moderate, hovering in the 90s.

Dad is in the hospital in Texas, going through tests and assessments to see what can be done about his condition. Mom is okay at home, it seems, coming across as feisty in her texts. Steve is in hospice with multiple myeloma. Andy is recovering in the hospital from his surgery and getting ready to begin physical therapy. Sis is going into the hospital for a ‘medical procedure’ today. Telling me via text yesterday that she wasn’t well, she remained vague about what her medical procedure was for. I see my doctor tomorrow. Sounds like friends and family medical week.

The latest unexpected shock to the system politically has the Roberts Court again supporting Trump. Yes, it’s a real *gasp* moment. The ruling allows ICE to randomly patrol and pick up people based on whatever the fuck motivates those actions that day. It’s the Trump MAGALand way. MAGAts are applauding it. One said in comments on an article, “As an American I think that ICE and any law enforcement officer enforcing our immigration laws and detaining and having any and all illegal people regardless of race or nationality, is exactly what they should be doing, and we support them 100%.” Except, yawn, ‘Old Patriot Guy’, they’re not enforcing laws; they’re enforcing Executive Orders. Due process isn’t being followed. But that’s okay with OPG and others like him. Ends justify the means. To them, everyone ICE picks up is an illegal and needs to be kicked out. Like how he shifted from ‘I, American’ to ‘we’ by his comment’s end. Was that a slip of the royal we subconsciously thrust in there? Of course, MAGAts consistently demonstrate narrow focus and shallow thinking. OPG might be applauding and waving his flag over Trump’s ICE disappearing people without due process, but you can bet that his comments will change if he and his get struck. He’ll probably then whine, “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” We know that in Trump’s U.S., that only applies to PINO TACO himself.

Meanwhile, Trump has again opted for fiction to support his decisions and policies. Has to be so for PINO Trump, if you think about it; truth, logic, reality, honor, and history all stand firmly against him. Since Trump brought it up, how much will longer we need to endure Trumpocalypse? Nine months into 2025, it’s already too much.

Trump Angrily Tells Reporter His Own Truth Post Is ‘Fake News’

Today’s music is for Rick Davies, Supertramp member and songwriter. He passed at 81 after losing to cancer. The Neurons and I agreed to play 1974’s “Bloody Well Right” in the morning mental music stream in honor and memory of Rick Davies.

Hope peace and grace sniff you out and give you help as needed today. Coffee has made a splash in my body. And it’s off to the races we go. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

A warmish night granted us a muggy, warmish day. It’s still summer, Thirstda, September 4, 2025. 90 F now, 95 to 97 F will mark the thermometer before the day’s end.

Pretty freaking funny that Trump’s Never Surrender Inc PAC has surrendered to Trump dying. They’ve made that clear by asking MAGA donors for small donations in an email with the subject line, “I want to try and get to Heaven”. Trump is obviously depending on Riches 1:666, in the Bible. Riches 1:666 says, “In my father’s house, there are many rooms and elevators, but only one elevator goes to heaven. For God so loves money that he rewards those who die with the most cash on hand with an express elevator to heaven.”

Lots of political talk circulated last night. One person reported ordering something from India. DHL sent her an email demanding that she pay $42 in additional tariffs before delivery. She wasn’t sure what to think about the email. “We’re always being scammed these days,” she said. “And here is this email telling me that I need to click on this link and pay this money, wanting my credit card information. I didn’t know if it was real.” After studying and assessing it, she paid, and it was legit. But, yeah, that seem like process with a lot of scammy potential.

Our biggest political conversation related to the mysterious black bag being thrown out a White House window. Have you seen this video? Trump was asked about it and claimed the video was fake. He also said that the WH windows weigh 600 pounds and are sealed. He said that they can’t be raised. However, the WH issued a statement that said that throwing things out a WH window were cleaners doing business as usual. Sure, because they have decades of video showing things being thrown out WH windows.

Some proposed that Melania was tired of Trump and had some of his things put into a black garbage bag and thrown out as part of an argument about breaking up. My wife proposes that it was medical waste related to Trump’s absence act last week, and that they were taking it out via a different way to avoid detection. Well, that certainly didn’t work.

For my part, I’m angriest about Trump’s latest use of military force. Attacking a boat and killing everyone on board is a bad precedent. Trump isn’t the first POTUS to employ heavy-handed military power to make a statement. Gunboat diplomacy has been around a few hundred years. Administrations and the military have developed ‘more surgical’ weapons and methodology. That would be too subtle for TACO. He didn’t provide any evidence for his actions; nor did he ask for permission from Congress, etc. All that’s for those damn elites, and he’s not an elite, as he’ll eagerly remind you. He’s just white, male, wealthy, and powerful. He’s also a liar and a lightweight thinker with a propensity for embracing broken window fallacies.

Remember glam rock? Today’s music is “Turn Up the Radio” by Autograph. I was housecleaning yesterday, listening to classic rock via Alexa as I did. A favorite Boston song, “Foreplay/Long Time”, popped into the rotation. I ordered Alexa to turn up the volume. The Neurons jumped my brain with this song, of course. So here we are.

The family visit is due to commence shortly. Sis-in-law and her beau are in the area. I’ve fortified myself with some coffee. Hope peace and grace find and shelter you today and every day. Here we go again. Cheers

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