MPS brought this wonderful, glorious WTF rant to my attention. They deserve rich credit. This guy expresses all my incredulous rage and disbelief about voter thinking in the last election.
Voter thinking. This guy sharply elucidates the gap between ‘voter’ and ‘thinking’ that we witnessed. Pundits and analysts are out there squawking and bleating about what the Dems did wrong. But for me, it is all about the ‘voter thinking’. Like that 12% of Missouri voters. Exit polls said they were voting for abortion rights and Trump.
October’s penultimate day has arrived. Wednesday, October 30, 2024. Less than a week until the election.
It’s a pretty autumn sunrise, a potpourri offering of soft, long clouds decked in faded blues shading into gray, and puffier masses of white with a brooding gray venture. Blue sky is dabbled in with random ideas. Sunrise flecks through in the east, delivering sunshine, lining some urban pieces of buildings, trees, lines, and poles with decorative golden outlines. They come and go in blinks as clouds restlessly shuffle.
My systems declare that it’s 37 F outside the windows. The high will be 51 F. Maybe 52. Maybe 50.
Papi the ginger blade has gone in and out, his testament to the fact that it’s pleasant but cold. Rain…might be coming but buckets won’t be used for the delivery. Scattered and light, I think it’ll be more like we’re being sprayed with cheap water pistols. The kind we used to buy at GC Murphys. They looked like Lugers. Came in red, yellow, green, and blue. I never saw a purple one.
Happy birthday, Dad! Called him Monday and gave him birthday wishes. Thinking of him with fondness today.
My ankle surgery is scheduled today. I feel good. Slept well. A med team rep called yesterday to update schedules and arrangements. I was informed I could have coffee and water until 8:15 AM. So this morning, I rose, made coffee, and chugged that puppy down. Also drank about sixteen ounces of water. I’m happily wired and hydrated. Getting hungry, though. My stomach is used to being served early. Now it’s raising a grumpy head to mutter about being in need of a little something something. Hush, I tell it. Not today.
I start thinking of Wednesday songs.
“Wednesday I’m in Love”
“Wednesday Afternoon”
“I Don’t Like Wednesdays”
“Wednesday Nights (Alright for Fighting)”
“Wednesday Morning Coming Down”
“Pleasant Valley Wednesday”
Yes, none of those are Wednesday songs. They’re for Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays.
Only one Wednesday-themed tune eventually drifts out of memory and breaks through the waves of thinking. Called “Wednesday,” more time is needed to summon bits out of other regions of memory. A melody begins, an instrument is weakly heard, pieces of lyrics pop up. More comes together with a little straining. Suddenly there comes a solid female voice. Identification takes a few more minutes.
Oh. Tori Amos. “Wednesday”. Can’t recall what year. More time passes. I drift into thinking about other matters as the cats ask for treats and my wife and I chat. Then The Neurons begin playing more of the reflective Wednesday ditty in the morning mental music stream (Trademark Wednesday). I finally search online to hunt down the full tune. This vexes Der Neurons. “No, no, give us more time,” they shout. “We’ll get it, we’ll get it.”
I spurn their protests. Sure, they’ll get, but it’ll arrive about two AM. I want it now. Those words briefly trigger Queen singing, “I want it all, and I want it now.”
Stay positive, be fresh, remain calm, and carry on. Coffee has carried me to my happy place. Here’s the music. Remember, vote blue. Have a good Wednesday.
It’s a sky clash out there. Heavy clouds are taking on the western mountains. Sunshine is bullying the east. It’s a mixed scene of rain and wet fuzz, bright light and cold hopes. Temperatures are revolving around the mid forties, but ‘lo, they’ll heave up to the low fifties later today.
This, friends, is Ashlandia on Tuesday, October 29, 2024.
Happy birthday, Mom!
I’ll call her later to chat. I called Dad for his b-day, which is tomorrow. I told him that I can only endure chatting with one of you a day. He laughed and understood. It was part humor and truth. Humuth.
And then I turn around and see that Teri Garr died. Just 79, she was an actor I enjoyed since I was a young high schooler. (Just for the record, I don’t divide the world in actors and actresses. They’re all actors to me.) I really enjoyed Teri Garr in several roles but Full Moon in Blue Water was a personal favorite.
“I Wanna Be Adored” by The Stone Roses is today’s music. Don’t know why The Neurons have it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark shaky). Song was released in 1989. The lyrics are not much. The song starts with a quiet build. First times hearing it, my reaction was, what happened to the music? But then it unfolds into something else. Always manifests dreamy nuances, like the lyrics are far-away thoughts trying to find focus.
Be strong, stay positive, and vote blue. Coffee and I have again achieved a mutual support agreement. Here’s the music. Cheers
Just a bag of trick or treat political offerings. C’mon, man, with December holiday props already up in places, I can be excused for being a few days early for Halloween, can’t I?
I know facts are not in vogue with the Grand Old Trump party. But Schwab sent me an email with links to historic data about political parties and various financial facts since 1961. People claim it’s the economy, so let’s take a look.
The proferred analysis shows that what party is in charge doesn’t affect the stock markets. They keep going up no matter who is charge.
GDP. If you’re worried about the GDP, go Democrat.
The annual average growth under Republicans is 2.5%.
Democratic presidents saw 3.3% average growth. President Johnson led everyone with 5.5%.
If it’s unemployment rates causing your political itches, go Democrat.
“Next, we can look at the unemployment rate, which on average started lower under Republican presidents than under Democrats. However, on average, the unemployment rate rose under Republicans and fell under Democrats.”
Turning attention to the S&P 500, should that be what gives you a rash, the Democratic Party is the one for you.
“As shown via the summary rows at the bottom, stocks have performed better in all four cycle years under Democratic presidents.“
As for the sectors, no rhyme and reason is found regarding the political party in charge. Check out the article for the fuller deets.
Annie shared Infidel753’s post about polls and the chance for a blue sweep. Infidel753 cautions that they might not be right, but they point out some trends, logic, and past results for why a blue wave might happen. Check it out.
The brilliant boy, Elon Musk, has the classic Trump grasp of governing. As do Trump supporters. Musk warns about some hardships trying to immediately slash the government’s burden. From what I’ve understood of the Federal budget process, Congress controls it.
“The Constitution makes clear that Congress holds the power of the purse, giving it authority “to lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises” and specifying that “No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by law.” In short, federal taxing and spending requires legislation that is enacted into law.”
As usual, the Constitution and its strictures mean nothing to the GOT Party. They just want to do what they want to do.
I was hoping for a sunny day outside my window. But it’s raining again. And there ain’t no sunshine.
It’s October’s final Monday. The month’s 28th day. Still 2024 for just over two more months.
Rain keeps a light, steady background staccato to the morning rituals. Clouds from mountain to mountain rule outside my window. Mountain tops wear gothic lighting as they fade behind sullen gray moisture-bearing behemoths. While it’s 42 F now, it feels like 48 F, which is the day’s hopeful high. This is this week’s weather prototype.
The cats send mixed signals about the season’s new weather setup. Papi the ginger blade goes out and endures on the covered patio in his carpeted condo. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) goes out for a test and nixes an extended stay, arthritically humping back into house’s warm offerings. Eventually Papi will beat on the door and return inside and then head to a sleeping position to pass the day. That’s become his new pattern.
Fun fact: on this day in 1886, the Statue of Liberty was unveiled. Yeah, I didn’t know; just saw it in my feed.
He also lamented poor Abe Lincoln’s loss of Ted during Lincoln’s presidency. Ted: the forgotten Lincoln boy. His supporters of course, insisted that we give him a break, because he was close enough to knowing that it was Willie who died while Lincoln was in the White House.
That’s his supporters’ style: give him a break for being ‘close enough’ to things. Meanwhile, they demand perfection of Kamala Harris. Hypocrisy’s stench covers the GOP.
The Neurons are feeding me Pink Floyd as the gray light floods and stills over the day. They have “Brain Damage/Eclipse” looping the morning mental music stream (Trademark cut). I’ve always had a fondness for these songs, the first about the lunatic, the second about everything under the sun.
They do go hand in hand with thoughts of Trump these days. He’s always talking up hating, enemies, and destroying, along with everyone he meets, while we speak of all that he begs, borrows, and steals. He’s the con of the deal, the madman on the stage, offering trinkets to support him, riffing on fake history, making vainglorious claims. Really, though, the enemy within is the enemy in his head.
The cats are in and my coffee is snuggling into my body’s systems. Be strong, remain positive, and vote blue. My wife dropped off our votes at the ballot box this morning. Here’s the music.
“I were just talking to another girl at the Y who also supports Kamala and was saying that her brother who lives in Florida is a Republican and got hit by the hurricane and seemed like he was very stressed out so she sent him a couple of linksfor help I guess and he told her to take her crap and burn in hell.”
Reviewing Trump’s long yet growing destructive path, he’s inflicted several deep gashes. With his lies and seeds of hate, he’s made it okay to be hateful, racist, and sexist. Anyone outside of the MAGA circles of delusion are aware of this.
But he turned Americans sharply against one another. Republicans and Democrats could and can always be distrustful and suspicious of one another. But we were usually able to work together. Certainly we came together in times of disasater and need.
Trump has maligned that ability away. He’s introduced an element of deep distrust and outright hostility. He’s made it okay to not only distrust and even hate our Federal government, but to actively attack it as if it was the enemy.
Trump has turned Democrats and Liberals into ‘an enemy’. He frequently employs belllicose tones and theater to declare how Democrats and Liberals ‘hate our country’. Evidence is not offered but the relentless repetition has taken hold.
He declares, if people are not for him, they are the enemy and must be fought. Embedded in his targets of hate are anyone who doesn’t think, act, and look like him. Anyon who doesn’t kowtow to him and worship him as wonderful and great. He picked up that many people struggle to understand transsexuals, pansexuals, and gender and sex issues, and used that as an attack wedge to unite his base in hate.
Beyond what he’s done to women’s rights as a champion of anti-abortion, beyond what he’s done with making lying acceptable, beyond what he’s done to treat others as enemies, he has amplified our differences and declared that these people who are different are dangerous.
This is what makes him most dangerous. His lasting impact on our nation, regardless of the 2024 election results, is the great divide he has created in America in service of his greed and ego. That will take generations to mend. It can only be mended with education, exposure to one another, and trust.
The actions that he’s pledged to understake make it clear that he doesn’t want that divide mended. And the GOP that serves him agree.
Today is Thursday, October 24, 2024. This kicks off October’s final week. Just seven days remain until November is asserted. Once November kicks on, it’ll be a ride. Time change in America, election in America, Thanksgiving in America…then the December holidays in America. Sorry to give the rest of the world short attention. That’s not my intention. It’s only that I expect November to be intense in the U.S. for multiple reasons.
Peering out the window, fog twirled and swirled, stealing in and out of the scene. But brave sunshine soon burst onto the scene.
With the fog, we were creeping through the low thirties. Sunshine kicked in and managed to kick the fog out and prop up a vividly blue sky. Now we’re romping through the forties, racing toward a high in the low 60s. This is autumn for sure but winter is slanting in.
Eyeing the fog’s weave around the trees, houses, and accoutrements of modern urban life brought up Foghat. Just apparently how my brain works. Soon “Fool for the City” rose in the morning mental music stream.
But as I watched, I rejected the song. Just didn’t feel right for the moment. The fog keep shifting, slinking in and sneaking out, coiling around trees and releasing. I kept judging the visibility. Now I could see further away…ah, but it’s back in and I can only see the houses and trees directly across the street.
From that litany of thought arose “What A Wonderful World.” The 1967 recording released by Louis Armstrong was the first, and it’s hard to top. But a while back, I heard a version by Chris Botti with Mark Knopfler. It was used at the end of an episode of the television series, “Bosch.” It struck me and I went off to hear it again on the net.
Besides Armstrong and Botti’s version, Willy Nelson’s soulful rendition and Joey’s Ramone heartfelt fast paced rock version captivated me. It’s hard to go wrong with the song’s words and the sentiments, if you like that sort of thing.
It is a wonderful world. I worry about humans screwing it up. We adjust it to our needs. Sometimes we’re pretty damn cruel and arrogant. I always have mixed conclusions about us exploring other worlds for that reason. I want the technological achievement, and I want to satisfy the intellectual curiosity of what else exists beyond this planet. But I don’t want us to ruin the other places. It remains a conundrum.
Coffee has invaded my body in a benign takeover. Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue. Here’s the music, friends and neighbors. Cheers
If I were religious or ascribed to a diety, I’d say that they might be pissed after Trump’s Micky D Sunday stunt. First there was an E. Coli Outbreak, forcing them to pull quarter pounders. Next came some crashing stock.
All started with Trump’s appearance there. Just sayin’. Also, as others noted, while Trump wore an apron, he didn’t have the rest of the required gear, like hairnets. Just sayin’.
It was a wild night of dreams. The final remembered one was one of those types of dreams where it was like a movie. I was watching and removed, but also knew myself as a character.
In this case, I as Donald J. Trump. Yes, that guy.
Except, I was a little person.
I was Donald J. Trump as a little person, mango hue and all, wearing a poorly fitting blue suit with a long red tie.
To open, there had been murders. The police were questioning me (Donald Trump) and others about the murder. I was the murderer, but I was fooling the detectives. I thought I was getting away with it. So, I turned my back to the investigative scene and smirked with pleasure because I was going free. But I still eavesdropped on what was being said behind me about possible new evidence.
I, Donald J. Trump, murderer, had overlooked some potentially incriminating evidence. But knowing where it was I quickly stole away.
Moving casually but fast, I hustled along the small town’s winding roads until I reached a broad pond with a rocky shore. Three elderly men were in a small rowboat just off shore. They were drinking whiskey from bottles. Further out on an outcrop of rocks was a clear plastic toilet bag. Inside it were some small plastic bottles. I knew my DNA was on that bag. It would link me to one of the murders.
Noises were coming up from behind. A black female detective was striding forward. I called out to the three men in the boat in my Trump voice, “Excuse me, fellows, can you do me a favor? Can you reach over to that rock, get that bag, and toss it back to me?”
Number one, I was wearing white gloves, and pointed at the bag as I spoke. Two, the men were a little inebriated. My request needed to be repeated clarified. Understanding and agreement came. They rowed over and got the toilet bag.
But the detective had come up by now. A look of pure evil overtaking my expression, I called to the men, “Just drop that in the water, okay?”
The detective called out, “That’s evidence in a murder case. Please be careful and bring it to me.”
One of the men was holding the bag aloft. He looked from me (Trump) to the detective and back to me. Then he let go of the bag.
Plop it went into the water. The men chuckled.
Smirking, I said, “Thank you, fellows,” and walked away on my short legs.
Michael Seidel, writer 