Twozdaz Theme Music

Twozdaz, November 11, 2025. Happy Veteran’s Day to my fellow vets. Hope peace and grace find you today and every day. The digit set for today is 49, 58, and 51, with dense fog. Yesterday turned gorgeous for me. Out walking, I encountered the friendliest and most beautiful autumn trees. Such colors and personalities. I’m fortunate to live in a place of such beauty and have the means to enjoy it.

Recovery is going great. Rolled out of bed without any thoughts to the incision sites or how I should move. Just wasn’t any pain or discomfort to remind me to watch out. Having had pain meds in several days. Did begin a protocol of med level Ibuprofen yesterday.

I’m off on a day of errands today. Highlighting the events are picking up my wife’s new glasses. Her last visit with the optometrist revealed her left eye’s vision had severely changed for the worse. She’s eager for new glasses to rectify that. Bought that at Costco one week ago. They called last night to tell us they were ready. After that, Trader Joe for some essentials, and a restaurant to pick up some Vet Day freebies.

With so much information filling our lives on a daily, is it any wonder that The Neurons introduced “Jammin’ Me” into the morning mental music stream? This song is all about too much. Written by Bob Dylan and Tom Petty, who were looking at newspapers and magazines and selecting words and phrases, Petty remembered that Mike Campbell had given him some music, and that’s the genesis of the song. Trippy.

Waiting to see if the Trump Epstein Shutdown of 2025 will end its record run. Disappointing that Dems caved. They won’t earn any credit for caving, and the situation will remain unbearable for millions, and worsen. The cruelty is the point, remember? The destruction of our culture and the rewriting of our history is the point. To put one party permanently in charge is the point. To keep billionaires rolling in money and to enrich Trump is the point. To empower the presidency over the other branches of government is the point. To undermine and enslave the majority is the point. To put children back into factories and women pregnant and back in the kitchen is the point. To have an uneducated, subservient, mute, and compliant population is the point. To have white males rule again is the point. When they say, “Make America Great Again”, this is where they want to take us, back to a time when it was more like this, and regulations didn’t exist to keep people safe and healthy. That’s the point.

Epstein and Trump, party pals!

Time to coffee up. Hope grace and peace find the way to the rest of us, besides the vets. Dense fog just rolled up, blanketing the sun and triggering the house heater. Here we go. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

It’s another Thirstda. With it, I realized, we’re on the cusp of August’s middle. Today is August 14, 2025.

We have a mild cooling trend underway. 68 F now, today’s high will peak at 86 F, falling from 93 F yesterday. Tomorrow is projected to be cooler yet. Rain is expected Satyrda and Sunda, with respective highs of 78 and 80 F.

I admit, I’ve never paid close attention to the Trumps. It shows; I often confuse the Trump women – Ivana, Ivanka, Marla, Melania. Lot of times, my Neurons will roll over and declare that Trump is married to Ivanka, his daughter. I suspect it’s my brain responding to casual connections projected in social media prompting my confusion. Anyway, Mea culpa.

An article I read asked and pursue the same questions in my mind about planned Trump’s White House ballroom construction: surely things like this are subject to oversight, permits, laws and regulations. The article reported that Trump has not applied for any permits. I, of course, snickered about that. I easily imagine Trump wiping out those requirements with his patented triad of weapons, the executive order, lies, and bullying. If oversight agencies aren’t checking him on other matters, why would anyone be naive enough to believe heritage, construction, and safety laws and regs will be applied? We know they won’t. This ‘law and order’ POTUS is pretty damn lawless. Part of his lawless path was charted by the Roberts Court, who decided something like, if the President does it as part of his official duties, it’s okay. So, there. He can build whatever unsafe, unregulated tacky outhouses that he wants on the land the We the People own. We the People can’t do a damn thing about it except write posts, protest, and call our elected reps. Oh yes, and try to vote him and that whole cancerous mass out of office.

Today’s theme music was caused by my wife. She and I were talking about a television show, Misfits, which we used to watch. She said, “Remind me.” With little thought, Les Neurons began playing the 2001 Nickelback song, “This Is How You Remind Me” in the morning mental music stream. This is how The Neurons work. All that’s needed is a tiny jiggle of a small connection between a song and a moment and they’re off!

Coffee is watering my nerves and energy is blooming in me anew. Time to risk getting dressed and going outside and interact with other humans. Hope grace and peace find you today and every day. Cheers

A Pause for Thought

I read a summary of a Coast Guard report about the 2023 OceanGat submersible failure in 1440 today. I added some emphasis to point out a few facets.

The US Coast Guard released its report yesterday on the 2023 OceanGate submersible implosion, concluding the disaster was preventable and directly caused by the company’s disregard for safety protocols. The Titan submersible imploded in the Atlantic Ocean during a paid trip to explore the Titanic wreck, killing all five passengers on board.

The 335-page report identifies eight primary engineering failures and four contributing factors, finding that OceanGate’s leadership dismissed safety concerns, failed to properly test and certify the vessel, and intimidated employees who raised alarms—including by filing a SLAPP lawsuit against a whistleblower. 

I added those emphasis because, under the Trump Regime, with a nod to Project 2025, dismissing safety concerns, failing to properly test and certify, and intimidating whistleblowers, are all hallmarks of Trump’s decision tree. Safety! Testing! Certifying! Whisteblowers! Those are anathema to MAGALand. They want a land free and clear of pesky, time-consuming, money-eating testing and regulations. That’s that woke stuff! Down with woke!

Oh, he’ll tell you that it’s the bestest ever! The most beautiful ever of whatever he’s touting. The absolute greatest! But he’ll cut corners wherever possible and expect those in his employment to do the same. And the results are typically gaudy and shoddy. Just look at this Bible and shoes, or the new stone plaza that replaced the venerated Rose Garden.

The OceanGate findings are now history. One thing Trump has proven multiple times, he doesn’t learn from history. He’s too busy pretending he understands it to take the time to understand it. And the cowards in his regime are never going to try to change that. Of course, at 79 years old, it’s probably too late for that mango dog to change, anyway.

He and his ‘leadership’ is an ongoing disaster.

Saturda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

We’re witness to the Great Undoing. Anyone fired from a job or who suffers loss from a death that alters their routines know about the undoing. Habits and routines created by job needs or the deceased one are now changed. Those gaps yawn before you. You exercise mental thought processes… “Oh, I don’t need to leap out of bed at six AM, hurry through a shower, dressing, and breakfast to jump on the highway to commute to work to get into the office by — ” Fill in your times.

Likewise, when someone who is part of your regular circles passes, you’re face to face with the change: “Oh, they’re not there to greet me. I don’t need to stop and speak with them, or check on them. They’re not there.”

Many in the United States are working through forms of undoing. Federal workers are suddenly enduring the shock of not having to roll out of bed, dress, and do the morning work dance. They’ve been fired. Terminated. Let go by Imperial Presidential Executive Orders.

Around the country, the monies provided by U.S.AID are gone. The routines associated with getting children to school where they’re provided a meal are over. Churches and charities dependent on that fund stream are going through undoing because the money isn’t there. If the money is gone, so is the food and shelter. Workers and employees suddenly endure the undoing as the routines of helping the impoverished are ended by Imperial Presidential Executive Order. Not just in foreign countries but here in the U.S., too.

Contracts to provide new buildings and essential services have been ended by Imperial Presidential Executive Order. The great undoing commences as workers are released from those projects. Buildings stand unfinished. National Park Visitor Centers stayed closed and dark. Trash goes uncollected. Nobody mans the towers to watch for fires.

Trump’s Hiring Freeze Throws Wildfire Fighters Into Disarray

As anti-vaccination is encouraged the health and safety enjoyed by communities across the nation go through an undoing. Children and the vulnerable elderly are closely watched for signs of diseases long ago stamped out by vaccinations, more victims of limited intelligence, less compassion, and Imperial Presidential Executive Orders.

Air travel is adjusted as staff are cut. More undoing. Traffic congestion in New York leaps up again. Accident rates rise. Confidence in government systems fall, part of the undoing of having regulations and requirements slashed away, along with inspectors to see what went wrong to prevent it from happening again. People become skeptical, leery of these systems…use falls. Airlines see the results.

From DC to Arizona: Why are so many planes crashing in 2025?

Farmers study crop prices and markets and endure the bitter undoing. Veterans protected by DEI programs are released from work positions and begin undoing their daily functions. Students helped by grant programs begin undoing their education hopes and dreams. Children affected by the undoing no longer go into facilities to play, learn how to socialize, visit with friends, and hearing stories read to them, undoings of things just begun.

Billions of Dollars at Stake for Farmers Hit by Trump Funding Freeze, Pause on Foreign Aid

Financial and economic experts study revenue and spending trends, note the stability created by an intelligent network of regulations developed after previous financial disasters and begin preparing their clients and institutions for the undoing, unsure how it will play out, as this is early days. Stock prices drop.

Walmart stock tumbles after the retailer lowers its sales outlook: “We are in an uncertain time”

All part of the Great Undoing undertaken by a group of people dismissing the government’s influence as overbearing, dismissing history as wrong, insisting scientists and professionals don’t know what they are doing. They know better.

Science under siege: Trump cuts threaten to undermine decades of research

And so, as Imperial Presidential Executive Orders destroy the government’s ability to function, as the United States withdraws from treaties, alliances, trade agreements, and mutual assistance organizations, the Great Undoing spreads, fallout from the Great Shitstorm of 2025, the result of the 2024 U.S. elections.

As Imperial Presidential Executive Orders are issued, undoing the work of Congress and previous administrations, we will see what happens with our constitutional system of checks and balances. Will it hold?

Freshman Congressman tells constituent he is powerless to stop Musk’s budget cuts

Or will the Great Undoing be the United States’ undoing?

Saturda’s Theme Music

January of 2024 has concluded and we’ve shifted into a new month. Yes, today is Saturday, Feb 1, 2025. It’s foggy, 40, rainy, and foggy in Ashlandia, foggy enough that it’s mentioned twice. Rain commenced early Friday morning and has stayed for Saturday coffee. Looks like it might be here for dinner, too. The respective highs and lows will be 47 and 37 F degrees.

My wife and I were discussing the news yesterday. Talking about what’s going on. That immediately kicked Marvin Gaye up from the mental memory cellar into the morning mental music stream. First up was the song, “What’s Going On”. Released in 1971, Marvin Gaye’s song captured and conveyed the sense of unrest and frustration permeating the nation in those years.

But the rest of the album was also awesome. “Save the Children”. “Mercy Mercy Me”. “Inner City Blues (Makes Me Wanna Holler)”. I ended up with “Mercy Mercy Me” dominating the morning mental music stream. Gaye’s softly voiced observations, “Things aren’t what they used to be,” resonants with now. Things aren’t what they used to be, and much of it is not good.

The song’s entire title is, “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)”. At the time, our environment was a disaster and getting worse. The song’s lyrics reflect this.

Whoa, ah, mercy mercy me
Oh things ain't what they used to be, no no
Where did all the blue skies go?
Poison is the wind that blows from the north and south and east

Whoa mercy, mercy me,
Oh things ain't what they used to be, no no
Oil wasted on the oceans and upon our seas, fish full of mercury

Ah, oh mercy, mercy me
Ah things ain't what they used to be, no no
Radiation under ground and in the sky
Animals and birds who live nearby are dying

Oh mercy, mercy me
Oh things ain't what they used to be
What about this overcrowded land
How much more abuse from man can she stand?

h/t to Lyric.com

Concerted efforts were made to clear up the air, land, and sea in the years since. It’s clear that the challenge is never ending. But under this repressive and regressive administration led by Trump, they’re trying to roll that back, too. The motivation behind rolling it back is to make it easier to make more money. Make ‘America First’. Which makes no sense if there’s not air that we can breathe and water that we can drink.

That makes me circle back to, what’s going on? Well, we know what’s going on. The greed of some will kill the people and the planet, and they’re good with that.

As it happens, this is also the beginning of Black History Month. Anytime is a good time to enjoy Marvin Gaye’s powerful talents, but it’s more timely today.

Coffee and I have amended our agreement for me to enjoy its company again today. Hope you have the best day you can. Enjoy the music video. Cheers

Twosday’s Theme Music

Mood: Twosdayized

28 degrees, Twosday come into the valley with sunshine, blue skies, and patchy fog. The day hovers in the liminal folds between autumn and winter, that murky zone called autner. Feels like it could get colder. Feels like clouds could march in and dump snow. But the sunshine claims it might get warmer. In fact, some forecasters insist, as they have on previous days, that today’s high will crack the fifties and stalk the upper edges toward sixty. But the valley’s stagnant air messes with the forecasting process. Yesterday’s high attained 45 F when 56 F was supposed to be the ceiling. So, I’m not planning to see 56 F today.

This stagnant air is weird. A still, windless phenomena, the chill it carries creeps through everything. You dress for much colder air and the house heating works hard because that creeping chill.

Going through the valley yesterday to shop, I saw that a thin line of brown pollution rimmed the more populated western region. Get used to that, I thought. Trump and his clown cabinet will cut regulations. “Business,” they’ll shout, and the sheeple shout, “Yes. Business first.” Business means prosperity, right? Wage increases. Profits. Bull market.

Most of the sheeple fail to understand that the government and economy worked better under Democratic control. Their limited memories don’t pull up the dark, sooty airs the United States experienced in the 1960s and 1970s before the EPA and their pesky regs came out and ordered, “Thou shall not pollute.” Nor do they comprehend the impact on health that it brings, and the reciprical effect on productivity and costs due to worker illness and absences. They don’t think that fucking deep. Or course, it’s hard to do so with Republicans bleating otherwise in a 24/7 cacophony. And it’s hard to remember and think whn your education is being hamstrung with teachings about how Jesus saved the world and climate change is a hoax, and look! Illegals! Trans! Woke! They also believe that wealthy people won’t hoard their wealth but will spread it around like fertilizer and turn everything cash green for everyone.

Yes, they are fucking fools.

Sigh. On to other matters.

We shopped at Costco. It’s been a go-to for us since the early 1990s. Our local Costco was moderately busy on a Monday afternoon. Mostly older shoppers. Ahem. Like us. As we entered and began our prowl, my wife shouted at the milling shoppers, “What about inflation?” She’s still riled up about that. I told her, “Babe, they’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna get worse. This is Doomsday shopping. They’re out here trying to get deals and soothe their troubled minds with food and toys to help them when reality crashes in.”

Being the second day of the workweek, it’s natural that this is called Twosday. Many don’t realize that the first spelling for ‘two’ or 2 was tue. Somehow, as the language and alphabet swelled into its current shape, tue became two. But the day of the week was already cemented in influential calendar makers, so Tuesdays remained.*

* Yes, that was all b.s.

Today’s music came out in 2020, while lockdown was prevalent. Being retired, I don’t work, so the song doesn’t really address me and my grips. But The Neurons called it up because I’ve been muttering to myself, “I need to get back to the coffee shop and get back to work on my writing.” Ding ding ding. The Neurons had a piece of “Work” by Pop Evil in the morning mental music stream (Trademark being worked): “All I do is work!”

Alright, coffee and I have come to an agreement. I will make it and pour it into my watering hole, and it will kick my energy up. Look up, open your eyes, and breathe deep. Time for another Twosday to be vanquished. Here’s the music. Cheers

Wednesday’s Political Thoughts

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’.

Of course, under the Trump administration and Project 2025’s goal to reduce regulations, this sort of things might happen more often. Just sayin’.

Vote blue.

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Earlier this year, the SCOTUS cut down the Chevron decision of 1984 while adjudicating Loper Bright Enterprises et al v. Raimondo, Secretary of Commerce, et al. In the Chevron decision, it was established that courts must defer to federal agencies when it comes to interpreting certain laws. The bent right-wing Roberts Court has now said, “Naw, uh.” The decision significantly changes how Federal regulatory agencies’ decisions are addressed in the judicial system and hamstring the ability to enforce Federal regulatory standards.

As if on cue, Iowa suffered heavy rains and flooding in the northwest corner. Agribusiness is huge there, and one area where Iowa has been pretty laconic is how animal manure is handled. Their solution was to put it in large ponds, creating a fecal soup. Guess what happens when floodwaters overtake fecal ponds? Yes, water drinking supply systems are contaminated.

The same sort of story was told in North Carolina a few years ago after a hurricane caused major flooding, so projections about what Iowa will experience, like skyrocketing e-coli levels, are known. Did Iowa learn from that? Hell, no.

So, to recap, in an age when regulatory enforcement is being blown up, an age where climate change is causing more extreme weather and droughts are endangering the nation’s water supply, the dangers and damages of such lax oversight is clearly demonstrated again and again. And yet, they won’t change, cause — money.

That’s the wisdom of the 21st century GOP.

A Shambolic Dream

Arriving somewhere outside, I was met by a man I knew. I’d worked with him at a startup after my military career. Now he was dressed as a light colonel. Greeting me and my wife, he said, thumb over shoulder to indicate direction, “Come on over here and join us. We’re going to review your records.”

So first, I acted like that was completely and totally normal. I said to my wife, “Oh, I guess I’m in the military.” She agreed and went off to do something while I went through my review.

Several problems immediately presented. One, no uniform. Two, haircut out of regs. So was the mustache. Three, I needed to get my records.

My records were to have been pulled and sent over for the review. I was directed over to an area where a table was set up like it was in a record store, but this was all outside under a sunny early autumn day. People were milling, going through the sectioned records, searching for their records. Someone offered to help me. As I went through them, I found my records and so announced. But wait; those weren’t my records. The first and last names were correct, but the middle name was wrong. On, no, they’d sent over the wrong records.

As I swore a bit about what had happened, I noticed another table to the left. It wasn’t set up in the same way. I stepped over to it and there were my records.

I rushed them over to the large card table where the review was being conducted. I knew several of those folks from both military and civilian careers. As I came up, I heard one chief master sergeant say, “But that’s how he aways is.” Others agreed.

I was mortified. Were they speaking of me? What did they mean?

They reviewed others’ records. When it came to be my turn, I joked with them and then explained that I was just back, I’d been visiting with my mother, who’d been very sick. They seemed disinterested. They looked through my records and commented on my haircut and lack of uniform. I told them that I was trying to get it together. One said, “Didn’t you come back from being with your mother a few weeks ago?” When I answered yes, he continued, “Then shouldn’t you have it together by now?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Let me go get my haircut. My wife was just telling me that I needed to get one. And my uniform is in my locker. I’ll get it and put it on.”

I went off, with my wife joining me. We were mumbling to one another about the situation. She had my clothes, having gotten them out of my locker. Great, but they were horribly wrinkled. Where could I iron them or have them pressed? There was no time, no time.

Then, some young airman dressed in a black pseudo-NAZI military uniform insulted my wife. Overhearing it, I was furious. Confronting him, I wanted to hit him but instead warned him that I was taking action against him. Laughing, he told me, “Fuck you.” That pissed me off further. Another person attempted to defend him as the first guy stood there laughing. I told both that I was busting their asses before my wife pulled me away.

Stepping out of the locker area, I put on the wrinkled pants. Others, including the board members, turned and watched. I then tugged on the shirt only to realize that the shirt and pants were from two different uniform combinations and didn’t match. I thought, oh my God, now I’m screwed.

The guy who greeted me at the dream’s beginning came up. He said, “Don’t worry about any of this. We’re cutting you a break.” As I responded with astonished relief, he went on, “They reported that they found a spell on you, a curse. We’ve lifted that, but since you were under it up to this point, we thought we’d give you a pass.”

The dream ended as I was absorbing this.

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