Caught a commercial on TV. About a doctor and her doctor peers, I guess, and their work in a hospital, and their personal lives and romances. As the female doctor kisses a man, a female voiceover says, “The Universe has a way of making sure we’re where we need to be.”
Well, I call bullshit on that. Bullshit because so many people, including children, live in poverty and food insecurity. Some work several jobs. Some deal with personal darkness or physical, emotional, or menal handicaps. Bullshit for the women denied their choice in America and suffer fear and pain because others decide how they should live and strip control away from them. Bullshit for the people around the world with trying to understand themselves and their minds and bodies — I’m speaking about people who don’t neatly align with a binary world — being denied assistance and support.
What about those innocents in war zones? That where the Universe needs to be as the bombs rip up their lives and kill their families. Naw, I’m calling bullshit on that, too. That’s just the tip of a 2024 existence.
I’m happy that some people wherever around the world finds a happy medium where they are and where the Universe has delivered that gives them a safe and happy life. But I think for most, we live lives where we’re scrambling or helping others scrambling to survive.
Man, television and Hollywood can be full of such bullshit. Yeah, that was a young elderly white American middle-class rant. Just needed to expell it from my system.
Saturday, March 2, 2024. The winter storm finally discovered Ashlandia. Snow fell through the night and falls still this morning. Gathering to 4 inches around my life zone, the flakes come in an unending, peaceful, almost joyous descent. The scene out there is remarkably white and colorless. Even where parts of bushs and trees can be seen, their colors are diluted.
It’s 31 F now. Snow is expected to continue all day. Tonight’s low will be 24. This is what we needed. Maps show that it’s snowing the mountains, too, building the snowpack for summer.
I’ll stay home and try to write. The cats shouldn’t cause interference; Tucker has been medicated, and the pain meds knock him out for about four hours. He grows so stll, I check for breathing and notice one eye cracking open, ears shifting, to see who’s there. Papi has explored outside and is now exploring sleep in a warm living room niche. He seems to like this space between a tree by the button chair and the enterainment center. I refer to it as Papi’s Niche.
The Neurons have loaded my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) with music. Eric Clapton joins the Beatles to perform “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, a particular favorite of mine. But there is also “I Want to Take You Higher” by Sly and the Family Stone, Chicago with “25 or 6 to 4”, and “Love Shack” performed by the B-52s.
Conversation with a friend may have inspired that last one. Meeting with a friend, he imparted some Vietnam conflict adventures he had as Army infantry. One story involved being ordered to get up and run because B-52s will coming in to bomb their location. He remembered looking up between the trees and seeing the bombers coming in, high and small from distance and altitude, while helicopters, lower but also small in perspective were entering the area from another direction. His order were running up a hill when then they were ordered, “Down now,” and the bombs began hitting.
But today’s theme music is another in the MMMS, “Superstar” from Jesus Christ Superstar, sung by Murray Head and the Trinidad Singers from 1969. This rocking song is relevant today as Christians work on tearing down democracy and freedom in America and work to estabish a white-man ruled theocracy ruled by a completely corrupt sinner, Donald J. Trump, by attacking reality itself.
Another dream storm last night. I’ve noticed now that I have this pattern; if I have a busy dream night, I’ll also have several songs in the morning mental music stream. But in parallel, my creativity increases, too. Wanting to understand more lead me to a search and articles like this one. I couldn’t find any decent articles talking about potential corelations between dreaming, ear worms, and creativity, but I’ll continue searching.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote. I will do the same. I’m up for more coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers
This is it: Old Year’s Day 2023. 2024 begins tomorrow. Despite that big event, it’s chilly, wet, and foggy this morning in Ashlandia, where coffee feels like a medical necessity to get the day started. Maybe that’s just me. Don’t know. I’m in the house and not going out until I’ve have enough coffee to get un-naked. It’s a public kindness thing.
41 F now around my house while the weather masters say it’s 48 F elsewhere in town with a 53 degree high on the radar. This might have been a record warm winter month for us.
2023 was a solid year personally. I wrote a novel and revised it multiple times, and the process goes on. My family members have endured health issues, and it’s not pleasant to be a spectator to that, but they continue pulling through. My wife continues managing her health matters, and the cats are doing well.
I’m not happy with my country. While the economy is doing well, the political and cultural divide yawns wider. Social progress regarding equality and justice slid backward in many ways. Under the guise of ‘freedom’, our education system stays under attack by conservatives limiting what is taught and what can people can read, which is basically the opposite of freedom. I won’t go into the multilple failures I see in the GOP with their continuing support of Trump no matter what, except to say it’s disappointing and a challenge to all branches of government.
Gun violence remains prevalent and demoralizing in the US as the nation collectively refuses to do anything except T&P, which does nothing to reduce violence, curtail the killing, or help the victims. It’s a pathetic and inept response to hear of a these mass shootings and learn that ‘leaders’ offer their thoughts and prayers. How many years of thoughts and prayers has it been? How many more will come before anything beyond thoughts and prayers are offered? As my friend Jill would eloquently say, GRRRRRR.
As for the rest of the world, I’m disappointed that wars continue and threaten to expand to encompass more of the world, just as we were experiencing a century ago.
The Neurons fed “Time Has Come Today” by the Chamber Brothers out of 1968 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed). Just thinking about time, for some reason (sure, that’s a smidget of snark, which is called smark). I posted it before, back in December, 2017, and that point was much the same: thinking about time (“Time!”) and there it is in my head.
Many people think of these song getting stuck in your head as an earworm. I’ve read that about 96% of people experience an earworm once a month or more. I seem to experience one everyday. Studies say that people who hold music as important to them experience earworms more frequently. I’ve never addressed how important music is to me, but Mom was always playing music, and it became a habit for me. They rarely bother me, these earworms, although every once in a while, a song burrows in and makes itself comfortable that does irritate me. “Yummy, Yummy, Yummy,” is one of those songs which comes to mind.
Stay pos, refresh yourself for the tilt against another year, be strong, and lean forward. Hey, ho, let’s go. Here’s the music. Happy Old Year’s Day. Cheers
T’was the day before Christmas and all across the land
few people were thinking that everything was grand
those with money to spend had brought presents to no end
while those lacking food and shelter did what they could do
Yes, today is Sunday, December 24, 2023, the day before Christmas in the US. Light rain intermittently douses us in wintery 43 F temps under a dystopian dim sun stuck behind the clouds. It’s today’s high, already achieved, so we have that going for us in Ashlandia, where the Christmas decorations are average and the Kwanza and Hannukah celebrations are muted.
I found myself with the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s 2006 cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark gifted). Those first lyrics that include soldiers keep on warrin’ was in my mind during this holiday month, when so many people talk about peace on Earth and goodwill toward man while doing the opposite so often. Few walk the talk. They’re just depressin’ damn people, especially the faux christians who have emerged.
Let’s just call them faustians, which is really similiar to faustian, isn’t it? Interesting; those faustians (faux christians) focus on themselves, complaining about how overlooked and put upon they are, which, in their words, is terrible because they have the best religion and god. Meanwhile, faustian is an adjective to describe things often done for present gain without any thought about the future, which is exactly what the faustians (faux christians) do; they want to go back to some faux good ol’ days when women knew their place and it was in the house, and there were only two genders and one sexual orientation – male on female – and men were in charge, and all bad things like racism, bigotry, and discrimination were all swept into places where it couldn’t be seen. They didn’t want to hear about women being raped (because they probably deserved it anyway, in their minds, because of how they dressed or acted). Nor did they want to know about people born with a mix of gene sets that creates a spectrum of true and viable genders. God only created two genders, darn it, and science is bad because it teaches otherwise, so don’t trust it.
Factories were in America and all things were made in America, because it was and is and always will be the greatest nation in the world (because, god), and the houses were all the same clean cottages behind fine white picket fences, except for the wealthy but noble and pious people who lived in mansions on the hill, away from the riff raff. To achieve their goals, faustians will lie and pretend their leaders are wonderful people, overlooking or even rationalizing their crimes, and go to war to make peace, because they believe in god, and that makes everything that they do okay. Diversity is not good in the faustian world. Nor is critical thinking.
Anyway, that’s why I’m playing “Higher Ground”.
Stay pos, be strong, and keep leaning forward toward a higher ground. Coffee drinking is underway. Here’s the music. Cheers
FAC: Floof Action Committee (floofinition) –1. A consortium of animals joining together to achieve change or direct policy.
In Use: “The household pets knew where the treats were stored and egged on by the dog, formed a FAC to get to them. The cat was most instrumental, jumping onto the kitchen counter and then to the refrigerator’s top to knock the packets to the floor, but the dogs were the ones who tore them open for all to enjoy.”
Recent Use: “On a cold winter night, a dog found a small niche of shelter where she could stay warm. Soon another dog, and then a cat joined him, sharing their warmth and shelter, and creating a de facto survival FAC.”
2. A group of humans dedicated to helping and, or, saving animals, and ensuring their health and welfare are attended to.
In Use: “Many communities have volunteers which form a FAC to reduce the feral populations with spay-neuter-release programs, and have parallel programs to find the young and have them fostered, domesticated, and adopted.
Recent Use: “With wars and military actions reducing places to terrifying scenes of burned-out rubble, global FACs have formed to find and save the innocent animals, giving them food and medical treatment, and shipping them out to safe places as needed and able.”
Another foggy and sunny Oregon aunter day in Ashlandia, where the people are liberal. Well, mostly. It’s complicated. Of course. Everything is complicated in the information age in the modern United States.
It’s Saturday, December 9, 2023. We’re rolling through the upper thirties to low forties, depending upon which part of town you’re in, and whether it’s sunny there. My home’s overnight low was 28 F. The cats stayed in. Didn’t even complain about it. Just got themselves cosy and slept the night away, except for litter box breaks and kibble bowl visits. Reminds me, I need to clean the litter box and refill the kibble bowls.
Our high today will crest the mid 50s F.
Can’t stomach the news today. I start reading about Ken Paxton, AG of Texas and his efforts to stop a woman’s abortion and just want to puke. So much is wrapped up and on full display about Republican ‘values’. Doctors are behind the medically recommended abortion; Republicans are pushing their ‘religious beliefs’ to stop it, this in a country which is purported to advance freedom from religion. This s the death panel that they used to threaten would happen under ACA, the ones which never did happen. It’s typical of Republicans to project this way.
Remember, please, this is the party of small government. Limited government. Government that shouldn’t be in people’s bedroom. Right. Sure. That’s all more GOP smoke. Nothing they do is really about small government; it’s about control and power.
Like the Zieglers of Florida. They project in the same way. She, Bridget, is busy with Moms for Liberty, banning books, worrying about what these books she wants banned will do to children’s morality. In parallel to this bullshit, this morally upright Republican christian was having an affair with a woman. Actually part of a three-way with the woman and her husband. Her business, yes, except her business is directly contradictory to her political stands, causes, and ‘principles’. By the way, show me where in the bible they extol it says threeways are okay. Christ on a penny, this is who christians look up to for leadership?
All this exploded onto news pages because her husband, Christian Ziegler, is accused of raping the woman in the three-way. He is of course, the GOP party leader. Makes perfect sense. While innocent until proven guilty of the rape, this paragon of Republican virtue does admit to the threesome. There is video but that means little to the GOP; all that video of Jan 6, and Republicans claim those folks threatening their elected officials, breaking into our capitol building, smearing feces on the walls, threatening the police, and stealing things are just tourists. Or they’re really antifa or BLM. Anyone except Republicans.
See why I want to puke after perusing the news?
For the theme music, The Neurons have launched “War” with “Low Rider” from 1975 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark torpedoed). I honestly searched for why they plugged in this funk tune. I enjoy the song and haven’t heard it in a while. But why, after eating oatmeal with nuts and cranberries, drinking some coffee, feeding the cats, and reading the news, is that song going on? I can’t see a direct correlation.
Could have something to do with a general mood of mine, an overstretching sense of optimism that runs contrary to so much evidence. The mood, when I pause to feel through it, takes me back to when I was young and just starting out, and that is where this song was released. Maybe my mind is tuning into the radio of my youth. I can see myself in my old little ’68 Camaro, driving home from work in the Command Post in Fairborn, Ohio, back home to my girlfriend, who become my wife later that year. Nice scene to remember.
Be strong and positive, and lean waaayyy forward, right? I’ve had some coffee and I’m eager to tackle some matters that need tackling. Here’s the video. Cheers
Forty and foggy for Friday in Ashlandia, the weather mothers proclaimed. I saw no fog but forty F did come around. Even with forty and sunshine, les chats were all for coming in where the furnace warmed us and staying in.
It’s November 17, 2023, and the countdown toward holidays in the US and the year’s end is heating up even as our temperatures go down. We’re in the midst of a hot streak, and our high will be 62 F.
Now, I gotta tell you, I’m tired of a lot of things going on not just in the United States, but the entired world. War is one of them, mass shootings and killings with automatic weapons is another, along with climate deniers, and ‘cultural warriors’ who baked issues with women’s rights (abortion choice), teaching children critical race theory (doesn’t happen), GOP gerrymandering, and pulling rights out from under LGBTQIA+ people, just to scare and divide people. I’m tired of people trampling others’ rights, religions and freedoms because they’re claim in strident tones that they’re being persecuted. I’m tired of people who don’t like a book banning it to keep others from reading it. I’m tired of Evangelicals and White Supremacists and antisemetics all trying to pose as something other than the haters and evils that they are. Tired of media and pundits pretending that both sides are the same when talking about Democrats and Republicans as Republicans rise up to deny people equality and justice and burn the country down to get their way while Democrats fight to defend us and keep it all going. If you think they’re the same, you’re not paying attention, and I’m tired of people not paying attention, not applying some critical thinking, not doing research, not exercising their memories, not understanding their government, and trying to rewrite history. But mostly, I’m tired of damn Donald J. Trump and his whole tribe of lying, hypocritical supporters.
Out out of that, The Neurons fed “You Haven’t Done Nothin” by Stevie Wonder to my morning mental music stream (Trademark declared). It’s a solid theme song choice. This 1974 protest song was addressing another infamous Republican POTUS, Richard Nixon, you know, the one of Watergate, dirty tricks, and wiring taping fame. The one who resigned and was pardoned by his successor.
While written for the political environment and events of almost fifty years ago, this song is exactly what’s needed to address Trump and his stolen election lies and the many other facets of his re-election ‘campaign’, along with his constant insistent about how great he is, how he’s so incredibly fit when we can see that he’s not, what an amazing memory he is as he makes claims about things that never happened. I’m tired of the growing cancerous mass which he represents. Stevie Wonder could have written his song for Trump.
We are amazed but not amused By all the things you say that you’ll do Though much concerned but not involved With decisions that are made by you
But we are sick and tired of hearing your song Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong ‘Cause if you really want to hear our views “You haven’t done nothing”!
It’s not too cool to be ridiculed But you brought this upon yourself The world is tired of pacifiers We want the truth and nothing else
And we are sick and tired of hearing your song Telling how you are gonna change right from wrong ‘Cause if you really want to hear our views “You haven’t done nothing”!
Stay positive, be strong, stand up for your rights, and lean forward for a better future. Here’s the music. Coffee is up, if you want some. Hey ho, let’s go. Cheers
Yes, it is too a thing. People dress up in costumes in many places. Children in costumes often scurry from house to house being given candy and pumpkins are curved and lit up to welcome November. November is the eleventh month in our calendar, and eleven is a power number, so, to summon good energy and dismiss dark forces, we celebrate November Eve. November 1st is more seriously and somberly feted on the actual day, as the forces of the universe are frequently nursing cosmic headaches. If you’ve never had one of those, it’s like lightning and thunder.
BTW, November finds its name from the Latin, novem, which means nine. It’s comfortably fitting for the modern era that our eleventh month was originally the ninth month, and we kept that name.
Well, if this is November Eve, then this is October 31, 2023, the last day of the tenth month of this year, and also Tuesday.
Talking with folks the other day — I was more listening than speaking — many were mourning the current state of crap in regard to politics, various wars, inflation and the cost of existing in the US, gun violence and mass murder — you know, just an average day in 2023 — when The Neurons woke up. Sniffing out the general tone of comments and agreements, they injected “Black” into my mental music stream, where it still plays in the morning mental music stream (Trademark dark) today.
“Black” by Pearl Jam (from 1991) is a love song. Starts gently and then rises to a wail of emotional pain as the narrator/vocalist acknowledges that he and the woman he loves can’t find the balance to live together. He’s saying goodbye to her in his mind, wishing her the best and reconciling fate even as he rails against the moment.
So I can see why Der Neurons played “Black”: it’s an assessment of the present and sadness for the future and what will be. Actually, despite its status as a love song, it’s an accurate theme song for many people in the US and beyond who, as our singer does, ends up wailing, “Why,” and “Why can’t it be?”
The particular version is accoustic, from MTV Unplugged. Hope you enjoy it on this November Eve, where it’s 37 F in Ashlandia and the November Eve parade, colloquially called the Halloween Parade, is average. Gonna spark up into the upper sixties before the sunshine cuts its engagement with our town in the valley.
Be strong, don’t worry, be happy, if you can. Now I’m gonna smack my brain with a heavy douse of black coffee. Get it stirring. Here’s the video. Hope you enjoy it and follow my logic for making this song today’s theme music.
Another Monday is about us in Ashlandia, where the rain falls mainly in the valley, and the streams and rivers swell with the results.
The weather is 52 F, cloudy and rainy. Forecasters warn that today’s high will be 65 F, with intermittent clouds, but it won’t rain. It’s a good coffee and reading day.
As for the world outside of Ashlandia, there were no overnight miracles. The news reports that the ongoing wars are still ongoing, one in Europe, and one in the middle-east. Besides those two, the GOP still wars with the GOP in the US. I don’t look for a quick or happy resolution to the war in the middle-east, but expect it to trudge on as has happened with Russia and Ukraine in Europe.
To summarize, led by the hardline Gang of Eight, the Republicans outsted their own guy as Speaker, Kevin McCarthy, even though they’re all part of the majority party nominally known as the GOP. Since booting McCarthy, the House has not been functioning much.
Note: the House wasn’t doing much before losing its Speaker, mostly because the GOP was determined to be the Grand OBSTRUCTIONIST Party. This is largely because a Democrat is POTUS, and most of the GOP’s ideas involve stripping rights from others, banning books, and keeping fossil fuels as the nation’s primary energy source.
Steve Scalise, House Majority Leader, R-La, tried and failed to become the new House Speaker, and withdrew after that one attempt.
Jim Jordan, a hardliner from Ohio, tried and failed after three rounds of voting to become Speaker. Just couldn’t find the votes. He’s considered too hard right and has never been known to compromise. Besides that, he has a poor legislative record.
“Critics of Rep. Jim Jordan (R-Ohio) have increasingly pointed to this – most notably the fact that he has yet to get a bill signed into law since being elected in 2006.” h/t to UnionLeader.com.
A line during Saturday Night Live’s cold open captured the essence of Jim Jordan’s attempt to be Speaker: “I want to be Speaker so that government starts functioning again so I can shut it down.” That’s the gist of Jordan’s politics. He doesn’t like ‘big’ government.
These wars complicate the world’s already precarious situation. The biggest crises we face in 2023 is growing food shortages and rising food costs, per ReliefWeb. Food shortages are worsening because war is tearing up farms and arable land, and growing extreme weather is damaging crops and disrupting growing seasons.
What a mess we’re in, and so much of it is brought on by our own actions. But just as so many addicts of drugs and addictives are helpless to save themselves, so it seems, are we.
Let’s go on to more pleasant matters, like music.
My wife was telling me a story about a conversation between her and some friends. I thought, “Oh, shit, sparks are going to fly now,” as I laughed, because I knew the husband and wife involved and how they were going to react.
Boom, The Neurons pounced, delivering “Master of Sparks” by ZZ Top into my head, where it remains in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging). This feels like a case of needing to play it for others to unloop it from my mental music stream, so here we are, me presenting it to you as Monday’s theme music.
The song is part of the first ZZ Top album I ever listened to, Tres Hombres, from 1973. I was seventeen. My buddy, Scott, brought it into high school art class as part of the established routine of listening to music while drawing and painting. One take of that album and I was smitten.
“Master of Sparks” turned out to be one of those songs that caught my attention as I was drawing because I was struggling to figure out what it was about. “What are they singing, Scott?” I asked. He brought it in, so I thought he’d know.
Sweeping his long bangs off his face, he grinned at me with big eyes. “I don’t know. Sounds cool, though doesn’t it?”
Scott introduced me to many new rock bands during that time, and shaped my musical preferences. Highly intelligent, athletic, and creative, Scott started at our school in my junior year after being tossed out from a well-regarded prep school. We shared multiple classes and were on several sports teams together. We also were both very rebellious.
Taking the question seriously, Scott returned two days later and told me that “Master of Sparks” is telling a story about a ball-shaped steel cage that the narrator was in. My reaction was basically, “Whaaa?”
Scott explained that he and Rick listened to it again and again at Scott’s house, and decided that’s what the song was about. Thanks to the net, I know they were right.
High class Slim came floating in Down from the county line Just getting right on Saturday night Riding with some friends of mine They invited me to come and see Just what was on their minds And then I took my first long look At the Master of Sparks on high
In the back of Jimmy’s Mack Stood a round steel cage Welded into shape by Slim Made out of sucker gauge How fine, they cried now with you inside Strapped in there safe and sound I thought, my-o-my, how the sparks will fly If that thing ever hit the ground
Slim was so pleased when I had eased Into his trap of death He had slammed the door but I said no more And I thought I’d breathed my last breath We was out in the sticks down Highway Six And the crowd was just about right The speed was too, so out I flew Like a stick of rolling dynamite
When I hit the ground You could hear the sound And see the sparks a country mile End over end I began to spin But the ball started running wild But it was too late as I met my fate And the ball started getting hot But through the sparks and the flame I knew that the claim Of the Master of Sparks was gone
Michael Seidel, writer 