Wenzdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

It’s the age of betrayal, it’s the era of MAGA. Trump demands loyalty but will instantly betray anyone who sullies his self-image of magnificence.

That idea that he demands personal loyalty means nothings to his regime. They’re true to him, and that’s it. So, with little surprise, I read that FEMA probationary employees are being reshuffled to ICE.

I can imagine how that’s going down. FEMA interviewee: “Yes, I want to join FEMA and help my fellow citizens recover when disaster strikes. I want to comfort and reassure them, and help them rebuild.”

“Okay, we’re sending you to ICE.”

“ICE?”

“Yes. Here’s your mask and gun. Go round up brown people.”

“Brown people? That’s not legal.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just arrest them and let Trump sort them out.”

Apparently, *ahem* this personnel action is being taken because the Trump Regime is struggling to fill its ICE ranks. Rounding up citizens is labor intensive, especially on the scale that Trump envisions. Word around the coffee shops is that ICE is also paying hiring bonuses.

It occurs to me that this might be a good way to resist the Trump Regime. Join ICE, take the money, and then start sabotaging it from within. When intel about a raid comes available, broadcast it to apps to let people know that it’s coming so they can scatter and hide while protestors establish a cover force of protests and harassements.

While I write all this in a blend of seriousness and jest, I find it sad and disturbing that Trump and the GOP have formulated such an atmosphere that such thinking must exist.

Trump has proven to be the greatest at taking things and thoroughly enshittifying them. He is, in essence, the Enshittifier in Chief.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: sizzlin’

Greetings from Ashlandia, where the heat stays on. It’s Friday, July 12, 2024. July has been a flaming month. Formalling started on July 4th, when the thermometers were showing it’s over 100 F and has barely eased. For today, we’ll tap one degree below 100. It’s a pleasant morning now, though, 68 at my house after falling to 62 F. Tomorrow, we go back to 100 F. Sunday is expected to drop into the low 90s, kicking off a stretch where our highs will crest in the 90s and the lows overnight will find the mid to upper sixties.

Air looks pretty good. Blue cloudless sky looks particulate free, except over in the horizon’s northwestern sector. Probably from the Salt Creek fire. They’re making good progress on it with a lot of mopping up going on. They warned that we’d probably see greater smoke last night, as we did, because they started a fire inside the containment line to fight to fire to keep it from jumping the fire line.

Boy howdy, that cool night air was invigorating, friends. As the sun slipped away and the temperatures slithered down below 80, I slid open the bedroom slider and the cats and I reveled in it. I’ve been sleeping atop the duvet, not bothering with even a coverlet, but I awoke cold enough that I pulled a light blanket over me. Tucker (pronounced Tuckah) stayed with me most of the night but as I got up to open the slider’s screen door to let Papi in and out (and in and out, repeat), Tucker said, “Hey, I want to go out there, too.” The boy has been feeling the heat, and his age.

Well, read news last night that the Beastie Boys were suing some restaurant over use of their song, “Sabotage”, from 1991. As soon as The Neurons were informed, they pulled the song from their mental file cabinet (my brain still uses paper but they’re talking about going digital) and now it’s blasting in the morning mental music stream (Trademark melting). As with many songs I enjoy, I’d never seen the video for it. Seeing it today is like a smack in the face from a wayback machine. Great fun.

Stay positive and be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024, and return President Biden to the Oval Office. Coffee and I have come to terms and are getting along swell. Here’s the music video, directed by Spike Jonze. Hey ho, let’s go. Cheers

The Five Incidents Dream

I was back in the military. The dream featured people I worked with from several units.

It began with an incident involving a major who had a handgun. This was morning. The duty day was just starting. I was a senior non-commissioned officer. I was walking through the HQ building with a cup of coffee. The major had spent part of the previous night threatening to shoot someone, incorporating a real incident that once took place. He’d been protecting himself, he told everyone. In the dream, I was involved because the commander walked by. As he did, he told the major, “Brief him on the incident. Make sure he’s aware.” He pointed to me. Then he told me, “I want you up to speed on this.” The commander went on.

No problem, I understood. That was part of how things were done. The major explained to me how he’d felt driven to defend himself by things he heard and saw. I had the gun removed from him and went on. Another pair of people found me. They’d been involved in a confrontation over suspected adultery. They’d been told to come and tell me about it so I could counsel them on what to do. As the day progressed, I was approached by others with things which had happened.

Several hours had passed. There were now four incidents involving eight people reported: the major with the gun; a couple accusing one another of cheating; some missing money and theft; and a fight over presumed insults and mocking. I suddenly realized that this wasn’t happenstance. Someone was coordinating pieces of misinformation to orchestrate confrontation, which resulted in division and distrust, and distracted us. By now, it was almost the duty day’s end. I went about, collecting the people who’d been involved so that I could specifically warn them that they would probably hear or see something else overnight to further anger, frighten, or confuse them, because someone was using them and their situation to sabotage us and our mission completion. After bringing the eight together, because I thought that by giving them the larger picture of what had transpired, they would better understand, I told them that they needed to be on guard against that, and to not react. After briefing these eight people, I headed off to tell the commander.

I’d seen the commander throughout the day. A little humorously, ‘the commander’ was played by different commanders from throughout my career. All were colonels, though, regardless of how they were later promoted. While going for the commander, I heard a discussion going on among a cluster of officers. Among them was the deputy commander.

She was complaining that the night duty officer schedule had been changed. As a result, nobody was scheduled to be the duty officer that night. The person on the schedule wasn’t available because they were on leave and traveling. Others were certain that this individual wasn’t the one scheduled to be on duty, regardless of what the roster said, but they weren’t sure who it was supposed to be.

I wasn’t surprised. I told the deputy commander that I believed the schedule change had been done deliberately by someone trying to hamstring our effectiveness to respond. I then told her it was the fifth incident and explained the previous four. After all, what were the chances that all of those things would happen at the same time? All were based on festering, long-term issues, but now they were suddenly coming to a head at the same time? I was dubious of that coincidence.

I then warned the deputy commander that I thought she needed to have a backup plan to her backup plan, and then contingency and backup plans to those backup plans, to the order of five. Further, that there was at least one person in the unit behind this, because the officer duty schedule was in a secure area. One of our people had to have been the one who changed it.

Dream end

Resigned

A dream’s undertow sucked me into its midst, where I was myself, in a younger guise, and dressed in Air Force blue. I, in my dream madness, completed paperwork in a dim crowded bunker of electronic scents. Watchful eyes ensured I filled the proper blocks with typewritten words in coherent order. But – they were dissatisfied.

A junior officer arrived to ‘help’ me redo the paperwork, explaining in cloying officialese that some of these statements weren’t appropriate and do I know that if I but groom myself a little more and co-operate, they’ll reward my potential with advancement.

But the flattery felt oily, and I resisted, asking, “Can’t I just line out the offending lines?” The Colonel came by to help me understand, asking the junior officer if it had been explained. Yes, the junior officer explained, it has been explained and he understands. “But,”I protested, “but, but, but…,” resisting because I was not inclined to re-type and rewrite, because those were not my words.

The Colonel showed me a note from the General,  where the General had sprawled in a fat red marker, ‘Does he understand that they can see this as treason?’ I could hear the General speak them as he wrote them, as I read them.

Yes, I understood, and no, I didn’t care. I didn’t do it as they wanted. I handed my finished work to the befuddled young officer with only a few words lined out. She stammered about that’s not what they wanted, and didn’t I understand what I could be, didn’t I see how I was sabotaging myself?

“Yes,” I said, “I see, and I understand, but do you understand?

“I resigned, so it doesn’t matter.”

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