Tag: Trump

Munday’s Theme Music

Mood: Mundacity

Yeah, it’s Munday, December 2, 2024. Just a couple notes on it. Temp is rising and falling between 26 and 28 F. Sun is kicking in. First strokes can be witnessed in the dining room’s southern window, which catches the sun’s approach from the southeast as it jabs through and around trees branches. Fog is doing a swirling veil dance. Alexa said it’ll be 56 F today. Same claim made yesterday and we barely topped 43, so I know where I’m putting my money.

Many people don’t realize the Monday as a day of the week comes from Middle English mondeyne which itself is derived from Late Latin, mundanus. It all means ‘common place’ as in ‘nothing special’. Boring. Routine. Mundane. Monday. Munday.

Trump continues with his authoritarian cabinet o’ clowns. Mockpaperscissors shares a scope outta the New Yorker about the dishonorable Pete Hegseth. True grrrspiring stuff about his drunken leadership and how he sexualizes women. Nice note about his drunken chants, “Kill all Muslims!” Bet those Muslims who clamored for Trump over Harris are creaming their pants with pleasure over that. Who coulda known that Trump woulda picked such a piece of meat for a high-rankin’ gubment position. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

My wife asked me last night how old I thought Papi was. We reminisced about his interactions with us. He first showed up on a fence back when Scheckter, one of the original Orange Boiz, was still alive. Papi, then called Meep for his tiny meow (yeah, he’s grown outta that), showed up on the backyard fence like a little Scheckter mini me.

Scheckter

Meep aka Papi

Records show Meep has lived with us since May of 2017. While Schecter was warm and sweet, Meep, I mean Papi, remains guarded and wary. When I informed my wife of my research, she remarked the same about the two floofs. Scheckter was a cuddler and lap dweller; Papi has been on my lap once for three pico seconds.

Dreams inspired The Neurons’ music choice today. I was reflecting about a dream of a levitating train I was driving through an apocalyptic ‘Merica. Thinking about the dream highights, I noted that it was a simple life of travel in the flying train with a small group of people. The Neurons shook my head. Out came No Doubt with “Simple Kind of Life”. “And all I wanted was a simple thing, a simple kind of life” keeps circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark freeze-dried).

Sunshine owns all the living and dining rooms’ windows now. Blue sky speckled with withdrawn clouds rule the view. It’s 30 F. Coffee and I have found common ground again. Look up and open your eyes. Take a deep breath. Inhale; exhale. Here we go, December’s first Munday. Hope it’s a wonderful one for you. Cheers

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Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Politicynicsm

It’s an autner morning with winter impression holding a slight edge. A freezing cold night was had with temperatures lowering to 18 F around my place. I know that’s not so cold in many places; I’ve lived in a few of them. But that’s chill for us.

Since dawn, the sun put the hammer to the temps. We’re into the low thirties now. The splash dab white crystals decorating the greenery is giving way as the sun’s fingers stroke the land into warmth. A high of 56 F is contemplated, with clouds, blue skies, and sunshine.

This is Sa’day, November 30, 2024, the last day of the year’s eleventh month. Just one more for the historic records and we’ll put 2024 to bed.

Keeping Papi the ginger blade in and safe from icy temperatures was a big challenge for us. He gave me his patented cheetah stare whenever I told him no.

Note: this is not Papi. Papi looks nothing like this, except for that staring, judging expression.

But we were successful without too much floofma. Now he is up and up, patrolling and sniffing to see who floofpassed on his realm while he was suffering the indignation of being kept warm and safe.

Been thinking about the Trump presidency and how it’s going down. He and his teams have not signed the transition docs. Therefore, no transition can begin. But, he’ll be sworn in on 1/20/25, won’t he? And then he’ll be POTUS. And then he’ll say, “Fuck those documents. I don’t need to sign shit. I’m the president.” SCOTUS has already established that these things he does as POTUS aren’t illegal, so… I’m sure the Senate will go into a legislative tantrum but the reality is, what will they do? Are the oaths really needed? Not in Trump’s newly minted prezzy immunity. Prezmunity.

Yes, feeling cynical this morning. But that’s the battle and potential outcome I see brewing. Of course, I’m crap at these predictions so I wouldn’t put any money on it.

Hmm…is Vegas laying odds on it? That would seem appropriate. Electing a proven con, liar, incompetent wanna-be dictator and fascist is a gamble…

Oh, wait. I see that he has signed some of the docs now. Sorry, been avoiding the news cycle. That’ll teach me.

So last night, I bit into a Kind drizzle bar. Off came part of one molar. Had to laugh. Just fits in so well with this year’s progression of events. My wife has been claiming that I’m held together by bubblegum and tape. Looks like it’s all coming apart.

I originally had songs about ice or white in the morning mental music stream (Trademark frozen). Ya know, things like “Cold as Ice” and “Ice Ice Baby”. “White Wedding” and “Nights in White Satin”. “Whiter Shade of Pale”. But The Neurons used their veto-override and inserted “Take My Breath Away”. The song was a creation for the Top Gun movie a zillion and two years ago. Berlin, an American new wave musical group, performed it for the movie and achieved a respectable hit for it.

I asked The Neurons, why this? They smugly deigned to voice an answer. But it’s in the stream, so I’m forced to share it to get it out. Kind of a tedious song to me. I mean, I admire the singer’s talents and the band’s skills, and respect the songwriters. Just not my cuppa. I’m low on the romance scale, though, so don’t judge it by my impressions. Listen for yourself.

Try to be positive. I grok that’s an easy expression to state but hard to manifest at times. Do your best, right? I will, too. Aided by coffee, the positivity function is stirring anew. Here we go, another day in 2024. Here’s the music from 1986 to take you there. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Foggedinmemories

We climbed into a Wednesday November 27, 2024. Day before Thanksgiving in the United States. I know a large of people who will be muttering, I don’t have anything to be thankful about.

It’s foggy and cold, 30 F, in Ashlandia, white with frost and ice, but it will get warmer, with the temperature rising to about 48 F. Blue sky can be spied through the thinning fog. I enjoyed cold, foggy days as a child. Encountering days like this in Penn Hills, PA, I’d step outside and let that cold whip my face. I found it exhilerating. And the fog made the world narrow, small, mysterious. It was also usually quieter. People didn’t go out into it. I soon knew my friends wouldn’t go out into it. Some just didn’t want to, complaining that it was cold and foggy. Others said their mom wouldn’t let them. I’d tramp on my own, verifying that the world still was beyond the fog’s envelope, feeling like an explorer. Being careful about your steps were important. Yards dropped off into steep hills and cement culverts lay in wait. I’d sometimes get lost in that fog, and when it burned off, I’d find myself surprised at where I was. I always thought it was fun. Guess that’s why I was considered a little strange, LOL.

Daily Kos delivered some news to my inbox. “If a Woman Dies from Pregnancy and Texas Refuses to Investigate, Did She Really Die?”

The Texas committee that examines all pregnancy-related deaths in the state will not review cases from 2022 and 2023, the first two years after Texas’s near-total abortion ban took effect, leaving any potential deaths related to abortion bans during those years uninvestigated by the 23 doctors, medical professionals and other specialists who make up the group.

Texas, led by Republicans, doesn’t want to know why women are dying in pregnancy-related deaths. I think they know they will find that their draconian fucking laws are killing women. Then they would need to spin that in a way that makes sense, and they know they can’t. Worse, it would provide facts about how poorly the GOP goes about ‘protecting women’. I’m sure if you read this, you recall that Trump declared as a candidate that he would protect women if elected POTUS. Now firm evidence is emerging that the climate, culture, and policies that he promoted is doing just the fucking opposite. Rather than trying to address the evidence, Republicans are doing what they do best: ignoring facts and creating a fake reality by pretending that all is well. “We just won’t investigate those deaths,” they nod and tell each other. “Then they’ll go away.” Dipshits.

Looking out at the fog this morning, The Neurons kept trying to recall a song about fog and confusion. For a while, “Ball of Confusion (That’s What the World Is Today)” by the Temptations in the morning mental music stream (Trademark hazy). Then, Foghat crowded in, because it has fog in its name. But I wanted to remember that song. Not much of it would come back. I was finally forced to turn to the Internet to restore the details. With about four minutes of searching, the Meat Puppets and their song, “Confusion Fog”, was finally restored to my operating system. A co-worker at PAS in Palo Alto, California, where I worked in the mid to late 1990s, turned me on to them. It’s a unique sound the Meat Puppets provide, more like country from the early 1970s than punk to me, but I like the vocals.

Coffee and I have reached detente. The fog has burned away. Sunshine and blue sky rule the day. Hope you find a better way, to make this one to remember. With fondness, here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Bumper Sticker

Great Bumper Stickers, Cont.

Wholly in sync with my election thoughts, esp. those tariffs, mass deportation plans, and the compounded impact it’ll have on Americans.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Suntimistic

Sun is shining. Gives promise to this Sunday, November 24, 2024. Wind is calmish, erratically kicking up like a new foal. A few clouds mill, strutting grays and whites. With a 44 degree F temperture and a high of 48 F, you’re not going to mistake this for anything but late autumn in Oregon.

Pleased with that sunshine after murky days of rain and mist. Such a wonderful and natural way to lift spirits. I went out into the chilly morning air and raised my face to the sun, sucking it up.

I think we’re going to chart how often we let Papi the ginger blade in and out of the house. Sometimes he comes in the front door and runs right to the back door, like he’s using the house as a shortcut. It feels like twenty times a day to me. That’s almost one time an hour, 24 hours. I need to chart it.

Saw a headline that caused difficulty keeping my breakfast down. “Most Americans Approve Of Trump Transition—As Controversial RFK Jr. Gets High Marks, Poll Finds “Most Americans”. Yeah, and most Americans think that tariffs and mass deportations will lower inflation. Shouldn’t be surprised that ‘most Americans approve’. Actually, I don’t think I’m surprised but disappointed.

“The majority of respondents approve of both Trump’s plans for mass deportations (57%) and his plan to impose broad tariffs on U.S. imports (52%), the poll found. Most Trump voters also don’t believe the tariffs will make prices higher—contradicting predictions from most experts—and the third that do think tariffs will lead to higher prices support them anyway.“

And while 59% approve of Trump’s transition plans, of the five nominees listed, RFK had the most positive rating, 47%.

So there we go. We must find a way to Make Americans Think Harder. Maybe bitter experience will open their eyes and impact their thinking. From what I’ve seen, it won’t. After all, look at how much of history, basic government and civics, and economics they keep forgetting.

Final note: I wonder if they included a question in that poll about Trump not yet signing the necessary transition documents? Hmm? Would that change the favorable poll results? Do they know that he won’t sign those MOUs and the ethics document?

To be fair, research has emerged that COVID-19 affects the brain, including a negative impact on IQ. Maybe that explains why Americans don’t seem to think much these days.

My foot continues healing. Edema causes issues. More exercise is needed to combat the edema. But the healing ankle surgery compromises the ability to exercise. Classic Catch 22.

Today’s song is sun focused. The Neurons saw that and started throwing sun and sunshine themed songs into the morning mental music stream (Trademark limping). Eventually, the mingling lyrics and rhythms cleared. Bob Marley and the Wailers arose with “Sun is Shining”. I like the song’s relaxed, easy style.

Gotta say, the green chili stew we made yesterday was a perfect antidote to the chilly wet day yesterday. Added roasted chicken to mine. Yeah, frozen and pre-cooked, low sodium. Yes, I’m a cheater. It’s available for lunch today. Really spicy; my wife said it was too spicy for her. We topped it with avocado and garnishd it with cilantro.

Coffee has been introduced to my internal environment. Gonna go make green smoothies. Think they’ll have a tropical taste. Mango and pineapple. Have the best Sunday you can. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Chillified

Gray clouds have returned to win the sky. Really, it seems like one big light-gray cloud. Low relative to the upper elevations, it cuts off the view after two hundred yards, giving an impression that the world ends there.

The wind is sedated to an infrequent breeze. Chillier air has shifted back in. We navigate 39 F with a high of 50 proferred, and more rain sometime.

This is Saturday, November 23, 2024.

My song today is “Good Life” by OneRepublic. I’d been reading news and opinions online late last night. One thing after another led me to new insights and angles. I ended up reflecting on the MAGA GOP’s narrow minded views. Their hypocrisy and lack of principles always flavor my opinion, as well. I’m sure they rationalize everything as the ends justify the means. Such cliches allow them to declare they’re for freedom, equality, and ‘protecting women’ even as they curtail equality and people’s freedom. They’re all about conforming. Two sexes and genders, traditional missionary position, trad wife, that’s them, at least in public. We suspect many dark things happening in private, based on what periodically crawls into the light. See, for example, Donald Trump’s “grab ’em by the pussy” philosophy and his affairs, Matt Gaetz, Jeffrey Epstein, et al.

And, it’s their religion and their God to which we must all bow. That’s how they interpret religious freedom in their ‘Merica. Their pasteurized, homogenized history that must be taught. Anything bad that happened is pushed aside so they can pretend it didn’t happen. Mass shootings are all because of people with mental health problems who are troubled by the liberals’ DEI and woke agenda. All is good in the MAGA world, as long as the wealthy can avoid being taxed, the stock market is going up, and everyone is working, even if it’s at menial jobs for slave wages, even if it’s children working, even if the skies and waters are polluted. That’s their version of a ‘good life’.

As for Democrats, liberals, and progressives, they must be ignored, expunged, or re-educated to accept the MAGA way.

It’s so far from my idea of a good life that I’m nauseated when I contemplate the gulf.

Anyway, after I shifted through these strands of thoughts, The Neurons inserted “Good Life” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark rising) where it shared some time with “It’s My Life” by the Animals and “It’s My Life” by No Doubt. “Good Life”, released in 2010, feels like another of those songs people know mostly through movies and television shows. It’s been used in a few of them.

When songs are in my head, my mind often focuses on specific sections. In this case, the specific section is a set of lines:

Listen, to my friends in New York, I say hello
My friends in L.A., they don’t know
Where I’ve been for the past few years or so
Paris to China to Colorado
Sometimes there’s airplanes you can’t jump out
Sometimes bullshit that don’t work now
We all got our stories, but please tell me
What’s there to complain about?

h/t to Genius.com

Well, excuse me, but I have a lot to complain about. Some of it is about aging. Much of my gripping is first world blues, but there’s also a substantial political section to my complaints.

Coffee and I have been re-introduced. We plan to make green chili stew in a little while. The rain has begun dripping down again, clouds have dramatically darkened the day, and the temperature has leveled off at 42 F. Feels like something lower. That stew will go well with this day.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Raindamental

A light grey bolt of cloth stretches over our valley. Winds whip trees into wild gesturing. Accumulated moisture glistens on everything. This is Thursday, November 21, 2024.

A bomclone continues its hold on us, closing roads outside of the valley with snow and fallen tres, but we’re okay in our neck. 44 F, light rain, but hey, it feels like 47 F and it’s gonna strike 48 before daylight fades.

Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) is okay staying in with that weather raging outside but Papi the ginger blade is trying to set a new record. He’s been in and out six times today. I think he’s been inspired by Robert Heinlein’s cat and is looking for the door into summer. As my wife lets Papi in, she asks him, “Are you hungry?” Like asking him, “Are you an orange boi?” Hell yeah, he’s hungry, Papi hollers back. He hasn’t eaten in like fourteen minutes, the last time he left the house.

A moment for mock applause. Gotta hand it to Trump, he’s being proactive. No sense waiting for folks to become part of his administration to get corrupt. He’s gonna start with corrupt individuals and see how corrupt he can be. Like he’s angry at the nation and the concept of freedom and democracy and the public welfare and is out to destroy it via a rich man tantrum. I mean, have you seen the names and records he’s trusting to do his bidding? Hope his voters shrivel with shame and sink into the ruin they’re making of this nation. Yeah, I’m not bitter, angry, or disgusted. History will judge them harshly.

Thinking of summer, The Neurons begin working up summer songs. They finally emerge in the morning mental music stream (Trademark watery) with Superchunk and “This Summer” from 2012. It’s a song I rarely hear except when I’m tuned to satellite FM in the car and on an indie-oriented station. And while it’s about summer as we travel a trough of stoutly autumn weather, the lyrics kind of play into it. To get a little political (moi?), one of the lines go, “We can’t forget what we never knew.” Perfect epitaph for Trump voters IMO.

Get positive and remember your values and dreams. Coffee has entered my systems and is doing its thang. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Political Thoughts

I laughed in amazement when I read that Muslim Arabs were endorsing and voting for Trump. Really? Muslim Arabs thought he was the man for them after his 2017 Muslim ban? I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe their choice.

Voter remorse is now spreading among their people as they’ve realized what they’ve done.

Muslims for Trump co-founder Rabiul Chowdhury tells “Dan Abrams Live” the nominations are concerning for his Muslim supporters who expected an “America First” approach rather than one focused on Israel.

“Some of his picks, like Marco Rubio, in our opinion, did not align with his America First and his vision of peace,” Chowdhury explained, telling NewsNation they would rather see Richard Grenell in the Cabinet.

They’re awakening to the fact that Trump conned them. They could have avoided this disappointment if they were paying attention and thinking. But they wanted to punish the Harris and the Democrats, they said.

Yes, I know. The War. Israel. I understand that. But they seriously believed Trump would do something about it? I guess, angry and frustrated, they were blindly hopeful that he would.

I’m sure that this small trickle of people waking up about who they voted into office will soon grow.

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Still Recovering

I’ve had worse. Others probably have it much much worse. Well it’s not a problem thing. I know they have it worse. But here I am in my boot on my right ankle after it’s surgical correction, whining about how I feel, because that’s who I am. The most frustrating part is that I can’t sit upright for long. But I see my care team tomorrow and I hope that restriction is removed.

I’m doing this on my phone. Basically talking into it. Adding grammar, telling it when to punctuate. Going back, editing the mistakes that my voice makes.

The cats have been taking care of me. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) has earned several comfort medals, purring at me from a perch on my chest.

I miss my daily writing. I write notes to myself about what to write and what to fix in my last novel that I worked on. I watch the weather through the open blinds, admiring our tree as it releases it’s newest colors red and gold against the green, bright in the gloomy day as rain falls. My wife and I talk about the election results and how disappointed we were. How disappointed we are.

My sister and I text about the same. She  asked me questions about whether Trump can remove generals. Gosh guess what? We text about the Google spike in people searching for can I change my vote. Bitter laughter ensues. No morons, it’s too late.

Have been binging HBO’s band of brothers. The show came on in like 2001. I always avoided watching it back in the day because I’ve been in the military and I didn’t want to celebrate war. I didn’t want to see war. But eventually other options dried up. I’ve been reading books but laying flat on my back holding the book up in front of me challenged my arms. So there it was, band of brothers. And I do enjoy the show I find. As I knew. it is about more than the war, it’s about the individuals finding the war, and their heart breaks and their efforts and their backgrounds.

Meanwhile, the neurons have delivered theme music for me. At least several times a day they play Harvey Danger and flagpole sitta. The same words like to go through my head: “I’m not sick but I’m not well.” That sums it up for me: I’m not sick, but I’m not well. The other lines that resonate with me off and on or, been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding.

Wherever you are whatever you’re doing, I hope you can stay positive, or regain some positive energy. I know you’re hurting, because I am too. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Had to Share

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.

Boom went my brain. Cheers

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