The View from Social Media
Thursday’s Theme Music – Too Much
Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, April 16, 2026.
It’s fifty shades of spring green outside. How quickly the front yard tree went from being bare to full of green leaves. I was out there working on the yard the other day and noted how bare it was and wondered when its leaves would arrive. Then the leaves were full and green on it, as though they’d been delivered via Amazon. “Your leaves are on the way and will be delivered by 3:30 PM on Wednesday.”
It’s 46 now, up from 32 F, and expected to climb to 52 F. Thunderstorms are expected tomorrow.
In fifty shades of Trump, Republicans in Congress are sticking with their leader, refusing to hold him accountable for the war in Iran. Some have compared it to Operation Poseidon Archer under President Biden. It’s messy, but there was a difference in scope, costs, and intentions. Although President Biden’s operation lasted fifteen months, his administration notified Congress before military operations were ordered and carried out. Not so with Trump, who has been operating more unilaterally, limiting how much Congress is told, and sometimes not telling them until after the fact. President Biden’s operation was also well-defined in objectives and stayed in scope. Trump’s Iran war has been much broader and general, with no clear cut stated goals. While various reasons have been stated, Trump has also threatened to destroy Iran as a nation and attack civilian targets.
- Operation Poseidon Archer cost about $400 million a day, with a total of $5 billion dollars for the first year of operations. Trump’s Iran war has spent $1 billion dollars per day on average, with an estimated expense of 35 to 51 billion dollar so far. Some experts believe that Trump’s Iran war could exceed one trillion dollars.
- President Biden’s Yemen strikes had a relatively contained economic effect. Trump’s Iran war has caused gas prices to soar to $7 in some states while disrupting global air travel due to airspace closures.
- Trump’s war has also affected the price of fertilizer for US farmers. The Strait of Hormuz closure has restricted access to components like sulfur, which is required to manufacture phosphate fertilizers in U.S. plants. Many small farmers are facing fertilizer costs which are 30 to 40 % higher than planned. The scale of the impact on increased cost for food and consumer goods will depend on how long Trump’s Iran war lasts.
- Total deaths for President Biden’s Yemen operations were estimated at 106 to 337 lives. Trump’s Iran war has claimed an estimated five to ten thousand, so far. No US military members were killed in the Yemen operation, while Trump’s war cost fifteen US military members to date.
It all added up to too much. That was enough for Les Neurons to invite the Dave Matthews Band into the morning mental music stream with “Too Much” from 1996.
I eat too much
I drink too much
I want too much
Too much
Hey
Suck it up, suck it up
Suck it up, suck it up, suck it up, yeah
Suck it up, suck it up, suck it up
Suck it up, suck it up, suck it up baby
h/t to AZLyrics.com
Hope your day isn’t too much for you, and that all goes well.
Cheers
The Little Competition Dream
It seemed as if I was in a quasi-military unit again. A new guy, young, I arrived as a strange ceremony was underway.
I took it in at a glance: large wooden but modern yurt. High wooden ceiling. People in uniforms – could be military, marching bands, firefighters – in groups, waiting.
Two senior people took me aside. The taller one said, “Your timing is perfect. We’re going to have you do the judging.”
I was like, the judging? I said nothing.
They led me to a round wooden table. On it was a brown wooden basket. “Basically,” it was explained, “you find their flare and trinkets and count them up.”
They were doing activity as this was being explained. I watched, following, gleaning the essence. This was a competition. The groups had stuff. I had to find it but judge it not on its merits but on its quantity. This would not be hard.
I counted some stuff. Marked it. Initialed the little slip of white paper it was on.
My instructors laughed. “Don’t bother initialing it. That’ll slow you down.”
I was affronted. I wanted accountability. Precision. But said nothing.
One of the groups’ leaders, tall guy with a rambling reddish-brown beard, was watching and spoke up. “He’s doing the judging? Look how slow he’s going. This is going to take forever.”
The tall leader responded, “He’s just starting. He’ll speed up.”
Indeed, I was speeding up, and learning the challenge’s intricacies. For example, in one green uniform, they had hundreds of small pockets. In each was a little gold trinket. Each had to be found and counted.
That’s how it was with all of these uniforms. The teams found things and hid them. Everything was small, and it was up to me to find and count it. Pretty nuts, I thought.
A woman in uniform, waiting to hand over her garments for my inspection and counting said, “This is pretty important to people.”
I nodded; I could tell.
She continued, “They put a lot of work and thought into it.”
“I can see that,” I replied.
The small things were adding up and time was going faster. I found new places to stack it all, keeping it neat and orderly.
Dream endThe Little Competition Dream
I was in a quasi-military unit again. A new guy, young, I arrived as a strange ceremony was underway.
I took it in at a glance: large wooden but modern yurt. High wooden ceiling. People in uniforms – could be military, marching bands, firefighters – in groups, waiting.
Two senior people took me aside. The taller one said, “Your timing is perfect. We’re going to have you do the judging.”
I was like, the judging? I said nothing.
They led me to a round wooden table. On it was a basket. “Basically,” it was explained, “you find their flare and trinkets and count them up.”
They were doing activity as this was being explained. I watched, following, gleaning the essence. This was a competition. The groups had stuff. I had to find it but judge it not on its merits but on its quantity. This would not be hard.
I counted some stuff. Marked it. Initialed the little slip of white paper it was on.
My instructors laughed. “Don’t bother initialing it. That’ll slow you down.”
I was affronted. I wanted accountability. Precision. But said nothing.
One of the groups’ leaders were watching and spoke up. “He’s doing the judging? Look how slow he’s going. This is going to take forever.”
The tall leader responded, “He’s just starting. He’ll speed up.”
Indeed, I was speeding up, and learning the challenge’s intricacies. For example, in one green uniform, they had hundreds of small pockets. In each was a little gold trinket. Each had to be found and counted.
That’s how it was with all of these uniforms. The teams found things and hid them. Everything was small, and it was up to me to find and count it. Pretty nuts, I thought.
A woman in dark green serge uniform, waiting to hand over her garments for my inspection and counting said, “This is pretty important to people.”
I nodded; I could tell.
She continued, “They put a lot of work and thought into it.”
“I can see that,” I replied.
The small things were adding up and time was going faster. I found new places to stack it all, keeping it neat and orderly.
Dream end
Trump: Regression and Incompetence
Just a brief Trump note.
Trump and his cabal tend to think in simplistic terms.
Simplest to them is “Might makes right”. They started a war in Iran predicated on having a lot of sophisticated weapons and little intelligent planning. This manifests as:
- No clear objectives
- No Plan B in case Plan A goes wrong
- Underestimating the enemy’s strength and will
- Fighting the wrong kind of war
- Not anticipating collateral damage and issues
- No exit plan
Part of this is because of a Trump tendency that extends throughout his administration. Trump wants people who idolize him and protects him from the truth when things aren’t going well. That’s who he hires, promotes, and keeps.
We’re seeing this in tariffs, in court cases where ICE and their tactics keep getting batted down, in energy policy, and in Iran. All of those things are not going according to plan. But because Trump resists facts and truth, he will not adjust and correct to improve the situation; he’ll keep regressing, taking a sledgehammer to hit a nail. Even now, Trump plans to send more troops to Iran and escalate the confrontation.
I read a transcript of Paul Krugman’s video this morning about the Iran War. Krugman cites many of these things in a more coherent manner. Krugman sums up the Trump era in one clean observation:
So we have this kind of real extreme, not just political extremism, but complete lack of ability to do the job, which is almost, in a sense, incompetence is a job requirement.
That’s terrifying. First, that incompetence is a job requirement. Second, that Trump supporters endorse this a good direction.
That last piece is going to make it hard to restore the United States where it’s on a path toward the future, and not the past.
See you on the streets, March 28th. Let’s show the world, we aren’t supporting Trump’s Incompetent Regime.
Monday’s Theme Music – Simpler Times
Ashland, Oregon — Monday, March 16, 2026.
Hazy but sunny, it was 43 F out when I got up this morning but now it’s 61, with a high in the upper 70s expected. This is part of the California coast heatwave. Being Oregon, we don’t get as much national attention as our southern neighbor, but the conditions striking California are also nailing us. We might set a new record high for the date tomorrow as analysts say that the low 80s are possible.
The news cycle brought more war news along with stories about Academy Awards winners and losers. The Trump Iran War continues. Suggestions swirl that both the United States and Russia will deploy ground troops to Iran. Despite Trump’s claim that Iran’s military was 100% destroyed, Iran hit a UAE oil port and Dubai airport.
Trump doesn’t always understand percentages, though. He promised drug prices would go down by 1500%, which is factually impossible.
Friends yesterday talked about the current political atmosphere. Many were dismayed by how easily Trump launched new military attacks and dragged us into war. While we naturally recognized, this has been an ugly trend by the left and right for decades, it’s really disturbing that a person who often speaks like he’s high is able to launch powerful, deadly weapons almost at will.
Others brought up how Brendan Carr, chairman of the FCC, is threatening the freedom of the press. One friend said when that Democrats return to a position where it can happen, there should be some Nuremburg-style trials. There wasn’t much further discussion of that, but the general consensus is, changes are needed.
I later received an email from another friend, who wasn’t at our little gathering. She wrote,
“We need Nuremburg-style atonement. Without it, we’ll just continue on our late-stage capitalist descent into the ranks of failed experiments with democracy. But hey, at least we have energy sucking, water guzzling generative AI to make silly videos of pets in bathrobes enjoying the spa to distract us from all this while data centers drink our future…”
Today’s song came from a concert by the Rogue Valley Symphonic Band yesterday. I’ve always enjoyed it so it’s no surprise that when The Neurons heard it yesterday, it resurfaced in today’s morning mental music stream.
The concert’s theme was Echoes of Oregon and featured composers who lived in or were educated in Oregon. One of these was Mason Williams, who came out with “Classical Gas” in 1968. The song is an instrumental featuring an acoustic guitar and symphony. I’ve always been drawn to its soft, contemplative beginning and then its urgent, more soaring sound later. A simple melody, the song reached number two behind a song by The Doors. Pretty remarkable.
Someone else who was at the concert and heard “Classical Gas” lamented she wished we were in a simpler era. Several of us scoffed, reminding her of all that was going on in 1968. All of us remembered headlines about the civil rights movements, riots and protests, the Vietnam war, space race, dark, filthy air with rivers on fire, and the cold war and its nuclear threat.
We were left wondering, when were simpler times?
Hope your day is simple, carefree, and satisfying to you in important ways. Off we go, one more time.
Cheers
Navigating Some Changes: A Dream
It started weird.
In my mid-twenties, I’d been somewhere, had a few drinks, went home. At home was an old girlfriend, visiting someone else, staying the night. Morning broke with sunshine through windows. I realized she was leaving and wanted to get up to say good-bye.
I could not move.
Paralyzed isn’t quite the word. I had no control. My limbs were flopping, weak, uncoordinated.
How did this happen? I kept asking myself. I didn’t much the night before, struggling to remember what I’d eaten, concluding, not much. I suspected someone had spiked my drink.
Thinking over the previous night, my memory pulled up a hypothetical scene where a man dropped something into my dream. I couldn’t guess his motivation and speculated he thought my drink belonged to someone else.
Then, damn – I’m late for work.
In the military again, I scrambled to find a clean uniform and shit, shower, shave.
Rushing out of the house, I headed for a train station and realized, I’m in Germany and I don’t know where I’m going. Nor did I speak the language.
There were long lines and a byzantine system of turns and steps. Putting together clues from what I saw others do, but screwing up, I sometimes got scolded – in German. I studied landmarks for more evidence about where I was, where I was going, then made it to work.
I was just a little late. Eventually I explained to the commander that I thought someone else had spiked my drink. He eagerly agreed, recapping my symptoms and then explaining the same thing happened to him the night before. That greatly relieved me, knowing someone else had gone this. I sensed that he felt the same.
I need to go somewhere else, they told me. Out in the system again, I tried putting pieces together to get to the right place and ended up going too far. Figuring that out, I backtracked until I found the right station. I realized we were sometimes going through people’s personal lands. They were very particular about what was permitted but sometimes changed it. For example, one old, white hair man opened up a door as a shortcut, apparently on a whim. An elderly gray-haired female chastised us when we considered using part of her walk as a shortcut.
Then it was time to go home. I had to figure out where to go, what to do, but fewer people were available. I had to figure it out on my own.
Dream end.
Saturday’s Theme Music
Ashland, Oregon – Saturday, February 28, 2026. An uninspiring flat gray tam caps the valley. We’ve reached February’s end and we’re cruising toward spring with 60 F as our high, up from the present 46. Rain is expected.
Our snowbank is at 41% of normal as they label our winter a snow drought. Fingers crossed that nature isn’t finished with the area’s snow deliveries or it’ll be a dry summer — unless that season changes and becomes wet.
Sis reports Mom has a roommate and is not happy. Her new roomie ‘poops on the toilet seat’ and then uses Mom’s wipes to clean up. Apparently, Mom had been settling in and considered herself happy until the roomie arrived.
Sis’s car was rearended yesterday. Nobody was hurt, the damage was mild, and the other driver took full responsibility. But the accident dinged sis’s mood. However, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to her as a four-year anniversary thank you, lifting her spirits again.
My wife and I both seem over our colds at last. Just mild coughing, thin and unproductive, struck this morning. My respiratory system seems clear and my breathing is well.
Looking at the news, I was pleased that the Senate again denied the SAVE Act to pass. The law was aimed to burden voters to provide identification, making it harder to vote. Trump and his allies suggest that it’s to stop voter fraud. Studies have actually shown that there is little voter fraud in national U.S. elections.
Trump and Israel ordered more strikes against Iran, killing more than 80 people. These attacks were part of a campaign to pressure Iran to stop its nuclear weapons program. That’s interesting, as Trump claimed attacks he ordered last summer obliterated Iran’s nuclear program.
Last in the news arena, the hypocrisy levels of justice hit new highs this week. Hillary Clinton testified about her ‘relationship’ with Jeffrey Epstein: don’t know him, never met him. Nor is there evidence to the contrary. Melania Trump was photographed with Epstein. Her name appears in emails, an address-book entry, and a 2002 message to Ghislaine Maxwell, along with third-party claims and materials such as photographs and third‑party claims. She has yet to be called to testify.
As usual with these shows, little concerns were expressed about the Epstein files victims.
With this as my backdrop, The Neurons dropped “Thin Lizzy” into the morning mental music stream with “Don’t Believe A Word”. Offering a nice bluesy tone, the song plays with the idea of what’s said to produce results, suggesting, that’s why what’s said can’t be trusted.
Lyrics h/t AZLyrics.com
Don’t believe me if I tell you
That I wrote this song for you
There just might be
Some other silly pretty girl
I’m singing to
Don’t believe a word
For words are so easily spoken
And your heart is just like that promise
Made to be broken
I hope you believe me when I say, I wish you have a joyous and safe, comfortable day. I raise my coffee to you and your prospects.
Cheers
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, February 25, 2026. Rainy, 46 F, the day is calm, shiny wet, and gray with a forecast high of 55 F.
Family text messages were almost nonexistent, except for one from sis. Mom has signed the paperwork to remain in the assisted living center for March. Her money is running out, though, so this is another stage of development. Now we wait to see what will unfold.
After checking in on Mom and my sisters, I read Trump’s State of the Union. Trump went into sales mode, framing some facts as being historically great. Chances are, when checked against actual documentation, the claims won’t hold. In a way, this is like radio or television ads making great claims about their product or service but then adds some very fast speech and texts about warnings and exceptions. Trump left the warnings off, though.
I didn’t listen to Trump’s speech. Reading the transcript is draining. He makes such gross exaggerations, grabbing credit when he is due none. Like the Olympic games coming to the United States. Other people worked hard, long hours to make the games come to Los Angeles, and a committee selected LA. Trump glosses over their work as though those individuals did nothing, that it was all due to him.
In the end, it was a typical Trump speech of selling how great everything is, how wonderful he is, how terrible Democrats are. Inside his bubble, he probably thinks it’s all true. His base will respond and love it. Military force, USA, USA! And that Biden! But I’m sure more FAFO is on the way for them.
All this ended up with U2 singing “One” in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons began with the opening lyrics:
Lyrics
Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you now?
You got someone to blame?
[Bridge]
You say love is a temple, love a higher law
Love is a temple, love the higher law
You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl
And I can’t be holding on to what you got
When all you got is hurt
Let’s hope that we come together to build something better for all of us, where we can co-exist with other views without thinking of them as an enemy. In other words, a place with peace and grace.
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, February 18, 2026.
Our big snowstorm is over! We’re melting out of it. Sunshine rules although washed gray clouds coil and twine on windbound courses of the snowy mountains. More snow is expected tomorrow morning, and rain is forecast for tomorrow afternoon.
How many inches we got yesterday depends on what part of town you’re in. One section saw twelve. We saw seven at our house, sunshine reduced it to three fast.
It’s 35 F now. Three hours ago, it was 26. The high is expected to be 41.
Ah, time. Enormous time was spent texting sisters about Mom’s situation. We’re frustrated and sad and often feel helpless. I think the people at the hospital and the social workers understand this and are doing their best. I think Mom is, too. As someone commented, there’s a lot of relationship history built into this moment. Mom and Frank were firm on their choices; they were not moving into assisted living.
‘Water under the bridge’ is the easy way to dismiss it all, but that water runs deeper than it first appears.
Things will be resolved with Mom but it won’t be a resolution that any of us want to own. It won’t satisfy anyone involved. At least for now, the short term. Perhaps, in a year, it’ll be different. What am I saying? It will be different. The greater question is, how will it be different?
I spent a lot of time this morning reading about the EPA’s Endangerment Finding EPA decision. While it’s an agency decision, deeper implications arise about short-term and long-term effects and the government’s role and responsibility to mitigate them. Beyond that, we have established history of how the Clean Air Act helped us become healthier. When we’re healthier, we’re happier and more productive. Yet — here we are, mired in controversy.
My views about what’s going on politically are also tainted with his use of the military. I don’t approve of that.
And my views are tarnished because history says what tariffs will and won’t do, and the majority of economic experts agree. Yet, Trump and his administration is doing the opposite.
It’s the same pattern with COVID-19, and now the same with vaccinations and the measles outbreaks. I ask myself, what will it take, and end up, nodding, yes, FAFO. That’s just how some minds work.
I’m disappointed, too, that MAGA supporters lambast President Biden for what they perceived as his mental and physical limitations, and yet treat Trump as though he’s a gift from God. And yes, I understand the role of social media and information bubbles, and news spin. But understanding those doesn’t alleviate my disappointment, conversely enhancing my frustration and disappointment.
I feel like I’m on the sidelines in many ways, watching, commenting, but removed, and maybe too insulated and isolated. It’s no surprise that The Neurons brought John Lennon with “Watching the Wheels” into my morning mental music stream.
May peace and grace get through to you and carry you on through the fray to better times.
Cheers
Success & Processing: A Dream
Young, I dreamed I was in the military, except it seemed more like I both was and wasn’t. As the dream unfolds, you’ll see what I mean.
I was at my house, in uniform. It was this house where I live in real life, but located somewhere else. I was going through the house, thinking about what I needed to do when I received a phone call. An agent said a publisher was interested in my book and wanted to talk to me — could I come up next Tuesday?
Hell, yes, was basically my response.
Giddy with excitement, I shared the news with my wife. Then I was informed that the general was arriving for a briefing. Scrambling, I put together a PowerPoint slide presentation, finishing up just when the doorbell rang. The cats ran off as the general and his staff entered.
The general was tall, friendly, white, quiet, and very hands on. As I began the slide show, explaining things, he asked for the controls. Then he tried to take over but didn’t know how to work the controls. I showed him. He then ‘left’ the slideshow app and started going through the material.
At one point, the general stopped. Watching him reading the slide and working the controls, I guessed that he wanted to print something. I showed him how, which he quickly understood.
Noticing the television, the general asked if it worked and requested it be turned on. I turned the TV on but with the sound down. The general took a remote and tried changing the channels. This was an odd-looking remote that was like an old-fashioned television dial on rectangle. He turned the dial but nothing happened. I explained that we didn’t use that remote — it didn’t work with this system, and gave him the correct remote. He then turned the channel.
I took the laptop with the presentation on it to the printer area to retrieve the general’s printouts. Another general was there. This one was younger, less rank, chunkier, white, with a balding head, brown hair, and a thick brown mustache. He was also very gregarious.
I saw that this general was trying to make copies of something. Chuckling, he was saying, “I was ready to retire. I can’t believe I got this assignment. It just fell into my lap. This is wonderful.”
He walked off. Glancing at what he was copying — coupons — I discerned that he’d not done them right. Adjusting the machine and settings, I copied them for him, speaking to my wife as she came up. “Look, hon, he’s copying coupons,” because my wife used to be a coupon hound. She left and left that area as the short general returned.
I showed the short general the copies I made, telling him, “I think this is what you were trying to do.”
He thanked me, agreeing that I’d fixed it for him. Then he took a fat marker and circled something on the page. I didn’t see what and didn’t feel it was my business to look.
Suddenly, he said, “Will you go down and sell my house for me? I need to sell it but I don’t have the time. It’s next Tuesday. I’ll give you $10,000 to do it.”
Seeing me hesitate, he cajoled me into helping him out. On my end, I reacting to him but not saying anything. First, an extra ten grand? Hell, yes. Second, next Tuesday? I have something planned then. I’d need to do both. I also thought, look at all this great stuff happening.
Everyone left. I went around, thinking about all that had transpired. While seeing the guests off, I’d noticed that the yard was weedy and trees needed trimmed. I decided to take care of those things. I went into the house first to tell my wife about the short general’s deal.
Back outside, I discovered that the weeds had almost doubled in size and numbers while I was in the house. Well, I needed to take care of that quick, so I went in and got the equipment. Coming out, I began working on a tree. My wife came out and said something that I didn’t catch.
Dream end.
Michael Seidel, writer 