Annieasksyou and tengrain at MPS are sharing resources for letting the Trusk administation know that We The People are pissed.
Annie’s points are worth pulling from her post and plopping here for added emphasis.
For anyone you know who doubts the importance of government services, perusing the links below will also be an education.
It takes a little patience to navigate among the agencies listed, and you’ll need to ignore an “Access Denied” notice.
If you appreciate this effort, there’s a request for donations to help the folks who are making this possible. All donations are tax-deductible.
I see the circulation of this information as a potentially massive citizen rebellion against Trump’s Second Attempted Coup to make us feel we have no power to oppose him and his ilk.
Let’s all fight back using our nonviolent weapons: our computers and smartphones. Please share on your blogs, social media, emails, and any other way you can think of. If you don’t want to keep all the links, you can save the instructions for adapting a government URL to reach the Wayback version.
And please, if you have Republican elected officials, contact them and tell them they must stop this wreckage. If enough Republicans can be barraged continually by their constituents, they may begin to deliver a message that even Trump can’t ignore.
Feb. 10, 2025, is a wintry Mundaz in Ashlandia. White sky holds no promises. White sky offers no sun. White sky offers no solace.
No precipitation is falling but we’re hovering at a toasty 23 F, ten degrees below our average low for this calendar date. Snow that fell last week still has a meaty white presence on the ground. The pine trees have finally shed that winter weight. Last week’s snow and ice had many pines bent to half of their height.
As for today, ‘they’ tell us that the sunshine will overcome the white sky and take us to 43 F, ten degrees below our normal average high.
Sorry that KC Chiefs were so dominated by the Philly Eagles in the SB yesterday. Unfortunately, PINO Trump predicted they’d win. That doomed them. As we’ve seen repeatedly demonstrated, Trump bestows the kiss of death on everything.
The Neurons surprised me with today’s music. It started as a tangent off some floofcourse between me and my felines. I asked them, “What’s wrong now?” Their answer came as pouty stares and circling watchfulness, which just dumped Les Neurons into bafflement. As I shifted to news reports with growing, heavier sighs, I thought, “Too many problems.”
A song began in my morning mental music stream. “What’s wrong, what’s wrong now? Too many problems.” As it pulled up volume and melody, I hunted the who, what, whens behind it. Unable to answer those myself, I turned to the net. It educated me that the song was “Nobody’s Home” by Avril Lavigne from 2004. I guess I heard it in the car. Back in that decade, I moved to Ashlandia and began doing regular I-5 commutes from my place in southern Oregon to visit with my team in Mountain View, between SF and SJ on the peninsula. Guess I heard it then.
Hope you can get positive that something good will come about and it won’t take a miracle from some deity or an eternity to happen. Coffee and I have embraced again. Off we go, into the wild white yonder, a fresh start on another day.
“The Army Corps of Engineers suddenly opened up the dams of California’s Lake Kaweah and Lake Success over the weekend. The three day-long releases cost the two Tulare County reservoirs more than 2.2 billion gallons of water — and led to waves of ire in the state over the abrupt, Donald Trump-backed moves.” SF Gate.
Yes, that’s smart. About as smart as giving a toddler the keys to your car and telling them to go get more beers.
As smart of pointing a loaded gun at your own head.
Trump released water from those northern California reservoirs to fight the fires in southern California. That’s like sending a traffic cop to direct traffic in Pittsburgh when the accident is in Baltimore.
It will not help fight the fires in SoCal in any way, shape, or form. Instead, Trump has released water that planned for watering crops in the warm months of the year. You know, the months when rain and snow is not falling. During growing season. So he may have damaged the crops for the year by his brash foolhardiness.
Further, water in those reservoirs is used to fight wildfires in the north during wildfire season.
So, bang, bang, bang, that self-certified genius did damage to California, people’s safety and livelihood, and to the nation’s economy with one effort from his dim-witted brain.
How would it affect the nation’s economy? Simple supply and demand: less food causes less supply causes higher prices. They produce almonds, milks, grapes, walnuts, cherries, eggs and chickens, tomatoes, blueberries, and hay. No one uses those things, right?
Such a waste of BTW, San Jaoquin Valley voted Trump into office.
Today is Twosda, Feb. 4, 2005. It’s 33 F outside in Ashlandia and ‘they’ are suggesting our high temp will be in the upper thirties.
You want snow? We got snow. Wet, heavy snow. Eight to ten inches of it surrounds my house. Far as I can see across the neighborhood, that’s the same for them. It’s like Nature had a to-do list to deliver snow to us in January. Then, realizing that hadn’t crossed off the list, made up for it with one super load. More snow is falling as I write.
Trees and bushes are bending the knee under the snow’s oppressive weight. Trees have gone down, taking power lines. We endured two short power outages. Each lasted just long enough to reset everything. Others were not so lucky and missed power for four or five hours. More disturbing, shelters weren’t open for the homeless. Reasoning for that varies: no volunteers for it said one place while the city shelter said, it’s contracted to an outside organization and is only open at night. Because, it said, other places like the library are open in the day. That’s the kind of irritating thining that has us rubbing our faces and sighing. I remember this discussion and the objections, but what if the library and those other places are forced to close? That was tutted aside. Sure, let’s plan for the best scenarios, and not the worse.
We also have multiple vehicle accident and stuck vehicles. Been a while since we’ve had snow and it shows. While we have four snowtrucks and drivers to plow the roads, little of that seemed to be done yesterday.
Schools are closed and classs are canceled, if you’re wondering. Not even doing it over the net. And I will also stay home. Write here, if I can. Well, I can, but sometimes *ahem* my household’s other occupants are oblivious to the writing process *ahem*. Yes, I’m whining. I’ll endure and get sumpin’ done.
The Neurons have pulled up a 1992 song and slipped into into my morning mental music stream. I played it once before, in 2021, during COVID shutdowns, when we were social distancing. “These Are Days” is by 10,0000 Maniacs. It’s a song about things happening that you’ll remember and look back upon. It’s an upbeat song about having happy times and remembering them.
Ironically, of course, the song came to me as I perused news that sickened me about what’s being done, supposedly to counter ‘woke’ ideology’, by the Trump administration. ‘These are they days.’ Decades of progress, plans, actions, and history are being chewed up and spit out because it’s ‘not aligned’ to Trump’s values and visions. His efforts are about as misguided as the invasion of Iraq over WMDs that didn’t exist, attacking them over Iraq’s part in an attack on the U.S. that they didn’t do, and is as deep in understanding as relabeling French fries as ‘freedom fries’. I remember, too, that George Dubya Bush claimed afterward that they never said there was a link between Saddam Hussein and the 9/11 attacks. Rewriting history. Look at the toll of that war.
And here we go, down another dark, more twisted rabbit hole.
And cue sigh. Here’s the music.
Two last comments before closing. One is about the War in Iraq. I had a friend who commented a few years after the war, they had us all fooled.
That pissed me off. No. They did not. There was a large segment of us who were not fooled. We raged against the war. We marched in the streets, wrote letters, held vigils, and tried to tell the rest of you. You laughed and dismissed us.
The other comment is that many disparaged President Biden’s efforts to address COVID-19. They raged that President Biden was destroying the United States. Yet, we ended up in better shape than most, with fallig unemployment, an improving economy, and a rising stock market (for what that’s worth). But Trump cheerleaders bemoaned the price of eggs and how much it took to fill the gas tank. And they fooled enough people that here we are.
Twenty years from now, I hope I’m here to look back and remember what was said and done, because I think a lot of people will work hard to re-write history. Hell, there is a small chunk of Americans who think that Trump was a great POTUS and did everything he promised in his first term.
Recently caught two Paul Krugman articles. I read one yesterday. This was the post where he shared his tale about why he left the New York Times.
His story illuminated a lot for me. As 2024 progressed and I read his opinions, I thought, what is wrong with Paul Krugman? He is so much less insightful and he seems to be leaning toward the NYT bothsiderism plague. I often found myself begin to read him and then close it because, meh. After he left the Times and began writing on his own, I discovered that he’d regained his sharpness. I’m so much happier to have him out of the NYT yoke and free to comment on the world again, especially the Trumpworld.
Times editors — who deny this — became heavy-handed about Mr. Krugman’s opinions and insights. They rewrote his column, forcing him to rewrite the rewrites. It all became so dumbed down that it wasn’t worth reading.
When democracies die, big business and wealthy individuals often play a crucial role in their demise. They provide a would-be strongman with financial support; their control of or influence over news media ensures that he receives favorable coverage, while his opponents are trashed. They do this because they expect to be rewarded with policies that favor their interests and imagine that they will in effect be shareholders in the new autocracy.
What comes next is familiar to anyone who studies history (which the oligarchs don’t.) Eventually it becomes clear that they don’t own the dictator they’ve helped install; he owns them. Maybe they’ll like some of his policies, maybe they won’t, but in any case they’re not in control — and they soon learn that criticizing the big man isn’t just fruitless, it’s dangerous.
In the past this script has typically taken a few years to play out, but this is the internet age, so right now in America the process seems to be taking only a few weeks.
Yep, Paul Krugman nailed it. Trump forced the GOP to be remade in his own image as the Grand Ol’ Trump Party. He brought on billionaires who are interested in having power and money. So guess what, GOP stalwarts? You guys aren’t needed any longer.
MAGA supporters? Naw, Trump can show now that he doesn’t give a shit about you, either.
Rural voters and Evangelicals who said that he shares your values, tells us like it is, and says what we’re thinking? You must have been thinking that th United States doesn’t need a democratic republic any longer. You must have thought that your freedoms and rights would be okay because Trump is like us.
If you haven’t realized yet, he is not like you, not unless you’re white, male, wealthy, selfish, racist, and sexist.
As for you folks who thought he would end wars, cut inflation, and make the United States a better place to live, man are you in for a fucking awakening. Talk ’bout woke! You’ll be woke as the deficit climbs and supply shortages and high prices gut the economy. Bet you’ll be woke as inflation rises and rises.
Those of you who wrung your hands and whined, “The Democrats don’t care about the cost of living enough, so I’m voting for Trump,” have fucked around. If you haven’t found out, you will.
I’ll take it back to Paul Krugman’s post from today to close.
As I get ready to hit the publish button, stock futures are down — but not nearly as much as the situation seems to warrant. Investors still seem to believe that there’s a good chance that Trump will use some minor concessions (about what?) to declare victory and dial the tariffs back. As I wrote about the same time Goldman and Dimon were telling us to chill out, this market complacency is a self-defeating prophecy: muted market reaction makes it likely that Trump will continue and expand his trade war.
And even if some of the tariffs prove temporary, the Rubicon has been crossed. We now know that when the United States signs an agreement, on trade or anything else, the president will treat that agreement as a mere suggestion to be ignored whenever he feels like it. That revelation in itself will do huge long-term damage.
All of this was entirely predictable. But there are none so blind as those who will not see.
It’s a snow day. We could do with a little snow in Ashlandia but no, why do a little when there’s a lot available?
It’s Munda, Feb. 3, 2025. Thick snow is falling and accumulating, dissing visibility. We have a few inches around our house. But the temperature is hovering right at 32 F here. ‘They’ tell us it will climb to 39 F. What will that do to the snow? Well the traffic cameras tell the story. The storm is coming from the south and east. West and north, there’s less impact. We have variable conditions all around us and it’ll stay like that until tonight, when freezing temperatures take over. Everyone who deals with snow, rain, and freezing overnight temperatures know that outcome.
As for sunshine — what sunshine? Clouds? They’re not visible for the snow. As far as we know, the sky is falling in as small white flakes.
The cats have taken well to the snow. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) has little interest in going out unless the sun is bright, full, and warm. And he’s grown accustomed to this season not being so. Papi, though, always challenges us about being let out. We let him out twice. Second time found him sitting on the porch, watching the snow. He was back in after three minutes. Both then retired to the living room, where the fireplace is going and the blower is kicking warm air across the room.
On to the big news.Beyoncé wins album of the year Grammy. Okay, it was a country album, but still, big accomplishment, right? Big news to fill the weekend gulf when Musk, acting on Trump’s orders, illegally took over computer systems with unvetted people without security clearances or actual positions with the government.
Why, that ol’ Trump. He sure knows how to give the people what they want! They didn’t want all that AID stuff. NO! If they’d wanted that, they would have elected people to Congress to represent them. Then, those people in Congress would have passed an act creating and funding that function.
Which all did happen. The U.S. Agency for International Development was formed in 1961. Congress directs it what to do and provides its funding. As part of the Executive branch the agency then does that. That’s how it’s supposed to work. It’s all part of the checks and balances built into our government’s processes and functions. One man cannot simply say stop.
But he did because Trump gives less than a morning bowel movement about laws and Congress. The GOP is already in his pocket. The Supreme Court ruled that anything he does as POTUS is legal. Or that’s how Trump takes it.
He should be impeached. We know that won’t happen with the GOP in charge. We’ve been down this road before. Few of them have the spine to stand up to Trump. But, hey, the people elected them, too, right?
And this is how the system breaks. This is the fallout of the system coming apart.
I mentioned the Grammy Award because my wife was spitting out curses like a drunken sailor this weekend as she looked at the news. “Look at this news coverage,” I will summarize her as saying, “no wonder this country is going to shit.” Yes, as many of us have noticed, we have infotainment more than news these days. Here’s thirty seconds about Trump, Musk, and the government, and twenty minutes on the Grammies, and a minute on the weather, and five minutes on the NFL Pro Bowl. Now on to sports!
Today, The Neurons have installed “Drive” by R.E.M. in my morning mental music stream. The 1991 song came up because as I thought about all the crap Trump and his minions did this weekend, The Neurons said, “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.”
Because essentially, the clock is running on inflation, the stock market, the U.S. and economy, after Trump’s moves. And we have judges ruling on his freeze order. And…yes, it’s a list, a list of crimes and transgressions. A list of activity against history, law, and common sense. So…tick. Tock. As the ride commences, we wait for the fallout.
The snow still falls. I’m off to do my writing and then off to a medical appointment. Be safe, and be strong, wherever you are, and whatever you’re doing. Cheers
Sunda, February 2, 2025, arrived in Ashlandia as inviting as a gray, wet mop. Sunshine feels like an alien life form. 35 F, the thermometer says the air temp is, and ‘they’ tell me that the temperature will punch up to 36 F. Light snow is falling.
Kind of light snow is falling. Sometimes, it’s rain, sometimes it’s sleet. A position can’t be staked and claimed for the local weather. Reactions on NextDoor about the weather are frequently amusing about this. “The forecast is for rain. Or snow! Maybe we’ll get zero inches, maybe we’ll get 88! Who knows?!!!” I can imagine someone looking a little wild-eyed and giggling to themselves typing this up. But she has aptly captured the general flow of thoughts.
Part of all this is elevation. Ashland is built on a series of southern mountain slopes. Weather changes are experienced as you slipslide up and down. Our house resides around 2100 feet. Looking up the street, where elevation increases a few hundred more, snow is visible lining roofs.
A winter storm warning is out for our area, so ‘they’ think it’s gonna be something. The rest of us are giving the forecast a jaundiced ‘we’ll see’ gaze. It is good soup weather. Soup, with hot buttered bread, as been conditioned into me. Mom had a practice of dishing out soup on days like this. Campbell’s had advertising campaigns predicated on the need. My wife is also out of that school. Her eyes and expression gain a little light as she states the idea, “This looks like a good soup day.” Best of all on a day like this, with trouble in the news — I haven’t looked but this is now the Trump era, and that’s all there is since he’s been installed as POTUS — would be a big bowl of Mom’s chili. She had an awesome recipe, and I could eat that stuff eight days a week.
Today’s theme music emerges from more conversations with my wife. A lifelong feminist who took on the ideology that everyone is born with equal rights regardless of anything else at an early age, the Trump’s administration to break the world and shove us back into the 1800s has her GRRRRRRR cranked up to eleven. The match point from the convos is that Trump respects nothing. We suspect that he doesn’t even have much self-respect; although he blusters about how great it is, his statements ring with a desperate need to be believed. That’s why he lieks his rallies, where the gullibles line up to worship him as he needs.
The other portion of these talks is that Elon Musk doesn’t respect the Trumpet at all. Being genuinely more intelligent, craven, and cruel, Musk is eagerly taking advantage of Trump to plunder the United States, with eyes on plundering the world. He has no respect for anyone but himself.
All these talking about respect invited The Neurons to pulled up a song from my teen years and dropped it into the moring mental music stream. “Respect Yourself” begins with the lyrics, “If you disrespect everbody that you run into, how in the world do you think anybody’s gonna respect you?” Trump thinks he can get respect by bullying everyone; he’s convinced himself that’s how it works, and his sycophants feed him a steady diet of ‘you got that right, sir’, so he never hears — or learns — otherwise. So this 1971 tune by The Staple Singers is dedicated to Trump and the Grand Ol’ Trump Party as they go about disrespected all others. No one is gonna give you respect in return.
Beyond the sentiments of the song, I love the funkiness dropped by the electric piano and bass. What a sweet sound. With its beat and vocals, it’s an excellent song to sing along with as you dance around the house. Feel free to turn it up loud.
Coffee has suggested that I have a cup. I didn’t want to be rude, so I agreed. And off we go, into the gray and white yonder. Look, it’s raining again. Or is that snow?
Michael Seidel, writer 