Sunda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Yes, the United States is taking a deep nosedive into being an authoritarian state under Trump.

Didn’t start with him. No. We’ve been on this course almost since the nation’s inception. Growing differences in ideologies fed rising polarization. Voter apathy and a two-party system that often operates more like private clubs threw on heavy and recurring douses of high-octane fuel. One issue voters contributed. So did a professional class of politicians homesteading in Congress, more eager for continued employment and personal prestige and power than effective governing, or even the rules of order. A deliberate decision for several news outlets to blatantly skew news to promote their agendas helped the flames grow brighter and hotter.

Dark money in political donations is a cause. As is the growing wealth divide. That divide has always been there. We’ve had robber barons before. Railroad, oil, and ranching empires. Now we have power-hungry oligarchs corrupting the system and controlling the technology and means of communications. As our founders warned, don’t trust the bankers. Beware of the money men. And, as always, beware of religion taking over the state. Even if that religion revolves around the worship of cash and power.

With these issues, things are frequently simplified and boiled down to semantics. Sound bites. PR campaigns. Streaming and television ads. When does life begin? What is sex and gender? Who has the right to citizenship and due process? What is meant by a ‘well-regulated militia’?

Republicans in recent years have become effective bigfooting facts and the truth. Now they’re attacking science and education as the enemy. Outlawing words, history, books, and ideas. They’ve long wanted to reduce the size of the Federal government. We all know the famous quote about drowning it in the bathtub.

Of course, our eagerness as a nation and as individuals to embrace cults and saviors is complicit. We want order. But we want equal rights. Principled people are requested to make decisions and lead us. But principled people in charge are growing rarities. It costs money to run a political campaign. Big donors want something in return for their money. Bullying tactics are employed. Toe the line or you’re gone. Executive Orders become royal decrees. Doesn’t matter what Congress appropriated; a POTUS gets in office and attaches strings to the spending. My way or no way.

It’s little surprise that threats, bullying, and being obstinate is the usual political tactic of choice. Many of us learn it via parenting, from being parents or being ruled by parents. “Do it like this because I said so.” “Do your homework or you won’t get dessert.” That parenting and teaching style, that management style has been reinforced by popular culture via television shows and movies. It takes place in sports. How many players will simply ‘hold out’ for more money and better conditions? Workers are forced to strike for better conditions because executives and CEOs want greater profits even at the cost of workers’ health, lives, and safety. Being tough and strong means not backing down. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.” Except that’s exactly what we do. Taking it to the ultimate step, corporations and the wealthy demand conditions to build new factories. Tax breaks. Special rights. If they don’t get it, they’ll take their manufacturing elsewhere. For the affected communities, it’s often lose-lose. It is effectively financial terrorism as a negotiating ploy.

So it goes, a long and ugly downward spiral, the perfect mélange of power, money, capitalism, apathy, ignorance, and greed.

We are not the first nation to face this challenge. We were one of the first nations to attempt a democratic rule of the people, by the people, for the people. Catchy slogan, isn’t it? As always, who should be included as part of ‘the people’ is in disagreement. Women weren’t originally included. Blacks were marginally involved. Indians? No. Gays, lesbians? Never thought of. Many still don’t want to think of them. Claims that it’s against science. Or their religion. Or it personally offends them. Myths about it all are created and circulated. “Blacks are dumber.” “Gays groom children.” Anecdotal tales are held up as absolute truths. See Willy Horton. See ‘the welfare queen.’ Or for a more modern example, see ‘DEI’. Now many live in fear of the servant of the people, the current White House resident, unsure of how he’ll wield power, unsure what it’ll do to our lives, unsure what we can do about him, afraid of the economic and political forces he’s accumulating, afraid of him acting as a power of one.

We’ll probably survive this threat posed by Trump and the spineless GOTP and their base. But we’re not likely to address the structural deficiencies which brought us to this point. That’s hard work. Challenging. We disagree on too many elements to come together and fix it. Or many wealthy people want more wealth. Wealth spells improved comfort. More security. Greater freedom. So, aided by the wealthy, indifferent, and uninvolved, we’ll keep devolving until even our name is a mockery of who we pretend to be:

The United States of America.

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m just a Venn diagram. I’m at a point where massive disappointment in my nation fills me. I didn’t expect the GOP to fight Trump. It saddens me that I’m right. They just rolled over and became the Grand Ol’ Trump Party.

Pisses me off that the Trump Regime thumbs its nose at the law, treating elements like due process as something beneath them. Unfortunately, I predicted this when Trump was campaigning in 2024. So did many others. They laughed at us. But Trump said he would be a dictator on day one. We knew that wasn’t a joke.

Politically, I’m angry, disgusted, disappointed, and a whole dark rainbow of other negative energies about what’s going on from bullshit tariffs to the damaged economy to the ridiculous and unlawful gutting of the Federal government to — well, fill in the blank.

But it’s a sunny and warm spring day. Promise is in the air. I’m getting ready for beer with friends on Wednesday. They’re intelligent, good friends. I’m looking forward to seeing them. Preparing for a secular Easter brunch with friends on Sunday. That’ll have bittersweet toppings drizzled over it. Some of the regulars are gone. Others are in hospice.

Writing is fun and full of promise. That puts me in a very positive frame. A novel draft is finished, and so many other novels are lined up, eager to be written. But will that finished draft hold up in the next round of editing and revision? Then there’s the publishing game. That closes the damper on my enthusiasm.

Mom texts me and reminds me that she wants to be cremated. Do what we will with the ashes. Play Glenn Miller at her service. Hold it in the garden. She’s lived almost nine decades but she endures hourly pain and discomfort. Her quality of life can be categorized as miserable.

Down to one cat, my cativities are truncated from what they once were. An air of depression clouds that aspect of life.

Financially, my wife and I are okay. Viewing my health, I can be better or worse. Got all my limbs. They function well. I endure little regular pain on a daily basis. I’m not as strong nor limber as I used to be, and my hair is trekking away from my forehead. Memory still works for most of the time on most of the days.

My wife’s health is not as good. She searches for words more often and doesn’t find them. She’s developed a new habit of forgetting to turn things on or off. She’s bitter and angry with the world, especially with Trump, and the Roberts Court. She’s furious and anxious about women’s rights. Shoulder and back pain are building up their frequent flier miles with her.

So, I am here. In the middle of it all, happy and sad. Worried and hopeful. Bitter and angry. Joyful and loving. Loved and frustrated. I read of far worse situations for people. Like those in Gaza. Ukraine. Immigrants hunting a better existence for themselves and those they love. War and disaster refugees trying to find a home. People working hard and struggling harder. Sleeping in cars and hanging on for meals and help. Women and people of color hiding, living in fear, beaten and killed for who they are. People with a gender that doesn’t fall cleanly into male or female dismissed as less than equal, unaccepted by narrow-minded bigots. People starving to death as billionaires pile up more money and more property, self-pleasuring themselves with mindless greed.

We seem so far away from Star Trek‘s ideals and so much closer to Mad Max, Solyent Green, and The Handmaid’s Tale.

Life is one hell of a spectrum.

Wenzda’s Theme Music

Sunshine tangoed in. Then clouds waltzed in, batting the sunshine out. No rain is falling but it’s still early. With a temperature of 39 F, we should be safe from snow for a few hours, though ‘they’ say it feels lie 27. S’posed to top off in the low 50s this afternoon. No word on what it’ll feel like. All this is as expected on the horn of spring as winter fades out in Ashlandia on Wenzda, March 19, 2025.

Boy, this week has been a crazy month, right? You never know what new insult Trump and his minions will levy on We The People. This time, the Trusk Regime has decided that the Code Talkers so invaluably employed during World War II were DEI hires.

“Were it not for the Navajos,” Major Howard Connor said, “the Marines would never have taken Iwo Jima.”

Today, Erin Alberty of Axios reported that at least ten articles about the Code Talkers have disappeared from U.S. military websites. Broken URLs are now labeled “DEI,” an abbreviation for “Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion.”

That’s right. Under Trump’s ‘leadership’, the Trusk Regime and the GOTP continue to spit on the honor and bravery of the people who fought for this nation. Someone should remind Trump and his regime that if it weren’t for the Code Talkers’ help, we might all be speaking Japanese.

Trump always claims he loves the military but look what he’s doing to it. Also claims to love the Constitution, and look what he’s doing to it. Ditto the nation. Who will rid us of the pestilence called Donald Trump before our world is destroyed?

The Neurons are playing the 1982 Culture Club song, “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me, in the morning mental music stream. This came about because I read that in many polls, Trump voters support the Trusk Regime’s actions…until they’re personally affected. Then they’re often swearing and crying about what Trump is doing. Like the Miami Venezuelans who supported Trump during the elections.

Venezuelan migrants in South Florida say they feel betrayed by a Trump administration decision to end legal protections for hundreds of thousands of people who fled dictatorships and sought refuge in the U.S.

The move by the Trump administration is a turnabout of a long-standing U.S. policy that has extended TPS to more than a half-million Venezuelans.

Come on, man, betrayal is Trump’s middle name. So, yep, now those Venezuelan Trump supporters are hurting as fellow Venezuelans are returned to the conditions they tried to escape in their country so that they could pursue life, liberty, and the pursuit fof happiness. They stand alongside thousands of farmers, ranchers, bankers, VA employees, veterans, FBI agents, and firefighters shocked to learn that Trump doesn’t care about them. Once they voted for him, it was one and done.

So this song, “Do You Really Want to Hear Me” and its plaintive refrain, is perfect for them. I mean, it’s not like they couldn’t see what Trump did before as POTUS, as a businessman, as a husband, or as a person. He’s always been all about himself. His voters were fools to think otherwise.

Coffee is again soothing my troubled breast. I’m ready to launch one more time. Hope you have a solid, satisfying day. And awaaayyy we goooo. Cheers

Three Out of Five Times

Daily writing prompt
You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

I’ve gone across the United States a few times. Furthest was from San Fransisco to New Hampshire via New York. I did that a few times in the military, always by train, and then SF to Connecticut via NY a few times for business, also by train.

I’ve always loved traveling by car. Back in the late 1950s and early 1960s, my parents loaded us into cars and off we went! One trip, barely remembered, was in a large Chevy station wagon from California to Pennsylvania. I think I was three years old. What I best remember about that was that I shared space in the station wagon’s back end with my older sister and a large black trunk. The trunk was useful as a fort and a table. Traffic being what it sometimes was, peering out the windows and waving to others was a recurring pastime. There were many coloring books involved with that trip, too.

My wife and I took a few almost cross-country trips. After I returned from my military assignment in the Philippines, I traveled to West Virginia where my wife stayed with her parents via commercial aircraft and Greyhound bus. Some of the logistics are a little foggy in my head, but I ended up visiting family in Pittsburgh and bought a used Porsche 914 there. I drove it down to West Virginia, and then my wife and I drove it across the southern United States to my new duty location outside of San Antonio, Texas. The first five hundred miles was through a blizzard. We then drove the reverse trip eight months later, when I decided to exit the military.

Funny enough, years later, there we were, in Texas again. This time we’d returned to the United States from an assignment in (on?) Okinawa. We’d been there for almost four years. Two things to know about driving in Okinawa was that it was on the left side of the road, with a right side steering wheel and the fastest speed we’d gone was 100 KPH, about 61 MPH. Renting a car in San Antonio at the airport, we were suddenly driving on the other side of the ride, the steering wheel on the other side, in the rain, at night, at 70 MPH. It was an awakening.

We then bought a new car, a Mazda RX-7, and drove it from San Antonio, Texas, to…ready? West Virginia. A big blizzard struck Texas that year. Interstate 10 was closed. Fortunately, Texas has Interstate ‘access roads’. We drove out of San Antonio through the blizzard via the access roads until we could get onto I-10. Man, I’ll tell you, traffic was pretty light.

I’ve flown cross country multiple times since then. The last time that my wife and I drove across cross country was from West Virginia to California. This was 1991. We’d been assigned to a base in Germany. She returned a few months early and was living not far from her parents in West Virginia. She’d bought a little Honda Civic. We loaded her and our three cats, Rocky, Crystal, and Jade, into the Honda, along with her belongings, and drove to Sunnyvale, California, via the Rocky Mountains. Let me tell you, the Honda, with its 1.5 liter engine, wasn’t happy about the Rockies. We’d swooped down the mountains as fast as we dared to build up speed to get up the next one. Geez, what a trip.

Not our actual car. Our car looked just like this, except it was gray.

I’ve also gone from Texas to Pennsylvania via Greyhound bus after finishing military basic training in 1975. But the one thing I always wanted to do was take a train across the country. We traveled by train in Japan and Europe, and loved it. It’s hasn’t come to pass in the U.S.

Maybe, someday, though, maybe someday…I’ll get to take a train ride across the United States.

Sunda’s Theme Music

Mood: coldasfrickinice

Winter left frosty white prints all over the valley this morning. Well, on the house’s western side. Out back, it’s green and almost springlike in appearance, until you step out and the 21 degrees F slaps your face.

This is Sunda, January 19, 2025. A freezing fog advisory is in effect but the crazy frog has vacated my area. Sunshine is instead smooching everything, causing stretches of vapor clouds to rise in the air as the frost hastens its escape with the sun’s urging. Gonna be 50 today, ‘they’ say. Well, yesterday didn’t see us get over 39 on my home’s system or my friend’s system. But today seems like it has more of a chance, if the scene outside of blue sky and sunshine doesn’t change when I look away.

News: TikTok is going dark today under the government’s orders. Three hostages were released in Gaza. Kansas City is advancing to the AFC championship game and a lot of fans seem displeased about it. The Washington Commanders shocked the NFC’s number one side, the Detroit Lions, with an almost flawless game. Another new wildfire was reported in southern California while the Palisades fire still burns, although the latter is 52 percent contained. WaPo is circulating rumors that the new administration wants to replace DeJoy as the nation’s Postmaster General. Just an aside to that, Democrats and many Republicans revile DeJoy for what he’s done to the USPS but he’s kissed the ring and threw lots of cash at Trump, so I’m surprised to hear it being discussed.

One news story that disgusted me is about Jefferson Griffin. The Republican ran for a North Carolina Supreme Court seat in 2024 and lost. Now he’s asking the state to throw out 5500 military absentee ballots. His reasoning is that they don’t provide a photo ID with their vote. Their vote in the mail. The same voting method that this character used in 2019 and 2020, BTW. Oh, and he’s only challenging these absentee ballots in heavily-leaning counties. This feels like it transcends hypocrisy. Feels like it’s absolutely venal in its naked desperation and hunger to win at any cost. If others’ rights get screwed in the process, well, that’s just too bad for them.

Musically, The Neurons have an Al Stewart song playing in the morning mental music stream. “On the Border” was released in 1977 and has a folk-rock flavor, which is flock in my vocabulary. (Folk rock, right? Flock.) There is some jazz flavoring to it as well. I have no specific reason for its inhabitance of the morning mental music stream. I was just tidying up in the kitchen some after feeding the beasts when I realized it was in my head. But these lines may have been the inspiration:

Late last night the rain was knocking on my window
I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow
I thought I saw down in the street the spirit of the century
Telling us that we’re all standing on the border

h/t to Genius.com

And that is because many of us simply feel like the nation’s spirit underwent a significant change when PINO-elect Trump won in 2024. Particulars include a substantial number of Americans showing vast disinterest or apathy by not voting and enough supporting a convicted felon to give the U.S. a new low as a first: a convict POTUS. As billionaires and the less wealthy line up to get on his good side and laws are proposed or passed to erase decades to centuries of change, it feel likes we’re standing on the border of becoming somthing other than the founders’ original intentions. I’ve said all of this before. Now it feels like I’m just cryin’ in my coffee.

Coffee and I have brokered another treaty for the day and I have commenced sipping out of the mug. Here’s the tune. Hope you enjoy the melody and have a terrific Sunda. Cheers

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