Clouds have moved into Ashlandia. As neighbors go, they tend to being quiet but flighty. They’re also large but I don’t want to body shame anyone.
With the clouds, we get warmer nights but colder days. Last night only slipped down to 51 F. Today’s high will be 61 F. Will it rain? Let me consult with my digitized Magic 8 Ball. Magic 8 says “It is decidely so.”
Today, BTW, is marked as Friday, April 25, 2025. One third of 2025 is about to end. Despite all of PINO Trump’s promises, preening, and bullying, the Russia-Ukraine goes on. The government is in miserable shape and not saving any money. People are losing 401K money because the stock market and bond market are waaayyy worse than under the previous POTUS. Tourism is down. Talk and worries about empty shelves, increasing unemployment, recession and even economic depression is increasing. Pundits already call it the Trumpcession.
PINO Trump responds to it all with glee. “Look how much money my billionaire friends made.” He alternates that with, “What, me — worry?”
I have The Outsiders performing in the morning mental music stream. The song is “Time Won’t Let Me”. Released in 1965, it grew into a hit and radio staple. That led to its purchase as a 45 RPM offering. The record became part of the basement playlist in our neighborhood. We usually did that over at Tracy and Carolyn’s house, as they had a finished basement.
The Smithereens did a cover for the 1994 movie Timecop, starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. I admit, I prefer the original song.
Coffee has come to my aid again, fortifying my psyche for reading the news. Hope you’re all well out there in streaming land, cuz here we go. Cheers
Yesterday hit 81 F here in Ashlandia. Remembering that, Papi was out early today to experience the improving weather. Energized by light and warmth in a way that I can only envy, he raced out the backdoor at 7 AM. A full sprint around the yard followed. A tree was charged and climbed halfway. Dropping back, full stalking mode was entered. Several pounces were practiced. Another grassy gallop and he was back to the door. “Want back in?” I asked. The cat answered with vigorous tail swishes and a race back across the yard.
All that without coffee. My Neurons were impressed.
I trudged through the room and asked Alexa for its take on the weather. Currently 54 F. Gonna climb to 79 F. Sunshine and clear skies all day. Cool grounds.
Twosda, April 15, 2025 has popped up on the calendar. We’re halfway through the fourth month of 2025. Shit seems to worsen by the day, politically speaking. Such as Trump apologizing for Russia’s Palm Sunday massacre, insisting it was terrible and a mistake. Russia said no such thing. Trump just gives his murdering friends cover.
Past that, a US citizen, born in this country, received an email that she had to leave the country. “Oh, that’s probably a mistake,” someone in the Federal government responded. Yeah, like the previous people deported without trials or evidence? Sure, I believe that shit.
Along those same lines, I don’t believe that Trump can’t get the individual mistaken sent to El Salvador, Kilmar Abrego Garcia. Trump doesn’t want to do bring the guy back. One, that would be a public admission that Trump erred. Trump doesn’t like admitting mistakes. Two, the optics of Trump bringing back a brown-skinned male who Trump accused of being a gang member would upset Trump’s MAGA base. Trump enjoys receiving their adulation too much for him to risk upsetting them. They think he’s peachy and he think’s they’re the greatest. The best.
Anyway, I have a song by Noah Kahan in the morning mental music stream. Kahan released “Hurt Somebody” in 2017. It’s risen through my mind’s debris because of things I thought which were similar to some of the song’s lines. My thoughts were, “What time is it? Wow, this morning is really going by fast. Where did the time go?” At that time, my hands were busy with my food and coffee prep, things usually done thirty minutes before then.
Noticing my thoughts, The Neurons put in the Kahan lines, “Don’t know where the time went. Stuck in the wrong mind set.”
Coffee has escaped into my bio once again. The caffeine is working its expected magic. Here I go into another day. Hope it works out well for me. Hope it works out well for you. Hope it works out well for us.
The world is full of colors. Pinks, yellow, and greens win the eye. Must be spring in Ashlandia. Temp is 45 F, however, it feels like 60, if you stand just the right way. ‘They’ say it’ll be 55 F today as our high but left out how it will feel. Will it rain? Yes! Maybe! It’s Saturda, March 29, 2025, so who knows? I will dress for dry and rainy weather. Yeah, it’ll be a dorkish sight.
Papi the ginger blade, known locally as Butter Butt, doensn’t seem upset with us any longer. Could be because we bribed him with chumley and other treats. I don’t think he forgot. He seems to have a long memory about things. It could be that he’s trying to mislead me into thinking he’s forgotten and forgiven, and then raise floofhem some night when we really need sleep. That sort of cunning planning feels like his style.
I surfed through a wild dream last night. Whole thing was just a series of flash epiphanies in dark night. I was telling myself that star energy runs through us, firing the little nuclear responses in our cells that generate our life energy. We die when the star energy can no longer feed our cells. Star energy comes through our chakras into our corporeal beings, and so on. Time is something we made up, and we have it all wrong. Everything is happening at once. No past, no future. Time was created so we could think in a more orderly manner but we’ve taken it too fair. Now it’s our straitjacket.
There was much, much more. Such as there is only one universe, and the idea that we treat our bodies wrong by trying to heal it when we should be reversing things. Dream me didn’t explain how that was supposed to be accomplished.
I awoke really hot. There are different kinds of hot for us as humans. Drinking a hot beverage feels one way. Sex hot, sun hot, fever hot, sports hot which incudes dripping sweat, furnace hot, which dries us out, desert hot, are all different. If you think about these hots, you notice how each feels unique, and our bodies respond differently to each. Well, the hot felt when I awoke from this dream was wholly different from any of those hot experience. Perhaps that’s all only me. I’ve never discussed the different sort of hots I feel with others
Anyway, I awoke feeling a different manner of hot. Then I headed for the bathroom to pee.
Der Neurons have sprung “Star Man” by Davide Bowie on the morning mental music stream. This was from Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust era. Released in 1972, I don’t hear it often on the radio in ‘Merica. But I personally enjoy its message of hope being delivered by a Starman to Earth’s youth. I went with the Top of the Pops video performance. Even though the song is being mimed, it awakened and impressed many more people to the talent named Bowie.
Coffee is reassuring me once again. Time to play through. Hope your day is remarkable for you in many good ways. Peace out.
Mellow and quiet are the best descriptions for Ashlandia today. Turning attention to politics for a bit, I found a few sites with ideas that merit being shared with others.
Theory 1: Trump is a Russian Asset. This theory isn’t new, but let’s be real: If someone had laid out Trump’s actions over the past several years and presented them without names attached, the conclusion that he’s working to advance Russian interests wouldn’t sound like a wild conspiracy.
Theory 2: Trump is Trying to Foment Global Chaos. For a man who ran a campaign on the promise of putting “America First,” Trump sure seems intent on making the world and America a far more unstable place.
Theory 3: He’s Just Worse at Presidenting Than Last Time. As shocking as this might sound, it’s possible that Trump’s presidential skillset second term is shaping up to be even less stellar than his first.
‘Less stellar’ made me chuckle. I think the author, Aron Solomon, is being generous.
Over on The Democracy Labs, they’ve provided us with a very useful map.The Trusk Regime is wielding DOGE to curtail leases on thousands of government buildings. This can well mean that people will need to go further and wait longer to reach the Federal office which can assist them. You know, places such as the VA office, FEMA, Social Security, IRS, Medicare, Medicaid, NOAA…
Driving longer distances isn’t good for people or the environment: it came mean longer trips in motor vehicles. If you’re in a gas or diesel powered vehicle, you’ll spew more emissions into the air. And you’ll pay for more vehicle fuel. If you’re worried about inflation, buying more gass can translate into more demand and higher prices.
Driving further and waiting longer will also mean that if you’re a person being paid by the hour or working the gig enonomy, it may well cost you more in your wages. Then there’s the age and handicap issue: traveling longer distance and waiting longer can often be emotionally wearing and physically tiring.
This essentially demonstrates how little the Trusk Regime cares about people.
What this map does is show us what’s being closed where, and importantly, what member of Congress to contact about it. You know what to do with your phones and keyboards, right? That’s right: raise your voice.
Finally, Jill Dennison shares a story of the sublime. Don’t Say That Word!!! covers the growing list that the Trusk Regime forbids to be used in official documents.
What follows is a list of words that are either forbidden or ‘discouraged’ in federal government communications, both formal and informal, under the current regime. Take a look for yourself … even words like ‘women’,‘racism’, and ‘pollution‘ are taboo! And of course ‘Gulf of Mexico’ cannot ever be used in federal communications! An article in the New York Times provides more information, but do take a glance through this list … it will raise your hackles!
And that’s always something that I need: something else that the Trusk Regime is doing that raises my hackles.
Time’s spend has changed since I was a child. Then I came to understand, oh, it’s not time that changed, it’s me. Time speeds up as we age. But with time passing, I also gain greater perspective. I can look back at certain events and interactions and comprehend them with better insights because my life’s experiences expanded my base of understanding.
And I have found that I can keep learning. But changing? Changing also becomes harder as I age. It seems like I’m like water. Like a stream, I was looking for my course to follow. Once finding it, I don’t want to leave it.
Time’s passing also changed perspectives on fashion. I’m less enthused about dressing to impress others these days and more focused on being comfortable. I can more easily shrug off others’ opinions of me because I know how transitory and incidental these things are.
My final observation was that I didn’t really fully appreciate my body when I was younger. As I aged, different alarms went off at specific times, triggering events and changes that I never expected. Like my metabolism jumping off a cliff. And my prostate en
Dad’s 92nd birthday is Wednesday. Mom’s birthday is tomorrow. I’ll be calling her tomorrow, so I called Dad today, as I’ll be pretty busy Wed. with planned surgery.
Dad and I had one of the best chats I recall having with him. We chatted about aging, financing, and Mom. Very satisfying.
Dad has always been a level guy, staying mellow, keeping things in the moment. He’s never gotten too worked up over any of life’s tumbles and twists. And he’s been through his share.
He’s in okay health. Had some stents put into his coronary arteries some years ago. Suffers some COPD. Went through some edema issues twice. Now he’s on a low sodium diet. A cane is employed to walk around. He sometimes needs a walker.
But we laughed a lot about these things which happen to us as we get older.
‘Five minutes’ has changed for my wife and I as we age. It used to be that we’d say, “I’ll be ready in five minutes,” and five minutes later, it was so.
No longer. First, time is faster for us now that we’re older. Happens to most people as they age. What used to take place in five minutes now consumes fifteen minutes. It’s freakin’ amazing. I’ve seen it happen with my mother. She used to say, “I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.” That fifteen minutes is now a lot longer.
We face it, too, that, like Mom, we no longer move with young eagerness. We move slower and more carefully. A more leisurely path is followed to dress and prepare to go out. Because we’re at the point in life where we don’t feel a need to hurry, and our bodies agree, slow down, take your time. So, if we tell you that we’ll be ready in about five minutes, have a seat.
Another Saturday has been found. Calendarologists have identified it as August 31, 2024, the last Saturday of the month. In a weird twist, the last Saturday of August is also part of the four day Labor Day weekend in ‘Merica. It seems too soon to me, but I was not consulted.
Gonna be a hot one, I won’t lie. Thermostat is expected to shy away from 100 degrees F by one or two degrees. Then it’ll drop 30 to 40 degrees for the night again. The air is clear, though, my friends, and satisfactory for breathing.
Saw a post today where a friend shared. It said, “The U.S.A. is not a Christian nation. But it is a nation where you are free to be Christian.” Someone else commented, “Sort of. The founding fathers believed that our rights are given to us by God not government, the constitution is to protect those rights by limiting the government from infringing on those God given rights.” They then added a link.
I think the poster sharing the link misses the point. The original post states, it’s not a Christian nation, but you’re free to be a Christian. Nothing in Anthony J. Minna’s stance, who wrote the linked article, changes that point.
“The Declaration contains several other references to a higher power. The introduction states that the “Laws of Nature and Nature’s God” entitle the American people to a separate and equal station among the powers of the earth. In the conclusion, Congress appeals to “the Supreme Judge of the world” for the rectitude of its intentions and professes its “firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence.” In each case, reference to a deity serves to validate the assertion of independence.
“The genius of the Declaration is the inclusive way the divine is given expression. The appellations of God are generic. Adherents of traditional theistic sects can read the words “Nature’s God,” “Creator,” and “Supreme Judge,” and understand them to mean the god they worship. The claims made on numerous Christian websites attest to this. Yet opponents of dogma read those same words and see an embracive, non-sectarian concept of divinity. This is no small testimony to the wisdom and foresight of the Founding Fathers. All Americans could support the Revolution and independence. All can regard their rights as unalienable, their liberty as inviolable.
“Unlike the Declaration of Independence, the United States Constitution contains no reference to God. At first, this may seem odd. Why did the men who drafted the Declaration invoke a Supreme Being several times, while the men who drafted the Constitution did not mention a higher power even once? Only six individuals signed both documents, so it could be hypothesized that the delegates to the Constitutional Convention that convened in Philadelphia in 1787 were a different and less religious group than the delegates to the Continental Congress, or perhaps that the delegates to the Continental Congress were savvy freethinkers cynically manipulating people’s belief in God to win support for their overthrow of British rule. Neither explanation holds water. Some of the Founders were conventional Christians and some were not, but the belief in a deity implied in the Declaration was sincere and likely universal among the delegates to both the Continental Congress and the Constitutional Convention. And a belief in the possibility of divine favor was held by even some of the least religious Founders.”
Added emphasis is mine.
Therein is one of the problems of many Christians in the United States. They read or hear of God and think of their own Christian God and the concept of creation of their Christian God. They fall to think of other creation myths which exist. There are over one hundred out there. Naturally, they don’t consider any other God, either; nor do they consider proponents or followers of other relations. That’s why, when they pass laws about religions, they’re often shocked when other religions begin using the law to further their own religion’s tenets and principles, such as mine, Pastafarianism.
Enough of that. We went to the OSF Green Show last night to see B.O.O.M. Cloudless, with the sun going down and the heat creeping down from the low nineties, it was a gorgeous night to be on the green listening to tunes. B.O.O.M’s name translates to Brothers of Other Mothers. But they’ve added a female drummer. The name is under re-consideration. They mentioned B.O.S.O.O.M.: Brothers or Sister of Other Mothers.
Whatever they called themselves, their show was fun and energetic. Highlights for me was fast paced, ripping “One Way Out” originally by the Allman Brothers Band. The penultimate song, I would have been satisfied if they ended there but they finished with a rousing rendition of Elvis Costello “What’s So Funny About Peace, Love, and Understanding?”
I’m finishing my theme week – well, a week and one day – of songs with time in the title with Nick Waterhouse and “It’s Time” from 2016. I first heard this song on the Reacher television series. As I thought about ‘time’ theme songs early this A.M., The Neurons blew this one off and played it in the morning mental music stream (Trademark postmarked). It’s a jazz-infused pop offering to me and I like it.
Stay positive, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I’ve been nursing coffee, or it’s been nursing me. Time to giddy-up. Here’s the music. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 