Trumpsanity Rages
Trumpsanity continues to rage around the world. Trump orders attacks on Iran based on reasons he said before didn’t exist. Claims the war is not a war. It will be short — just as he said before. Just as he before said that the war was over when it started and has declared it over multiple times.
Just as Trump said he would cut prices and then claimed it was harder than he thought. Then Trump pivoted, declaring affordability doesn’t matter.
And it’s similar to how Trump complained about President Obama golfing too much. Trump said he would never golf because he would be too busy working. Now he golfs about 25% of his time.
It’s very familiar thinking to when Trump said he would probably release the Epstein files, then declared them a hoax, before changing his tune to demands people forget about them.
The week, we saw Trump crowing about his ‘new’ Air Force One. This is the Qatari Boeing aircraft they gave to Trump for a sweet deal.
Which takes us to your Trump Quote of the Day:
There is so much to say about this quote and aircraft. Built in the United States, Trump babbles that our country couldn’t build one like it. But it was built by Boeing, in the United States. Way to support America, Trump!
The aircraft was then heavily modified for royal use. That’s probably what Trump is talking about: all those luxury accoutrements.
Yet, luxury is not what the ultimate aircraft for We the People is all about. Air Force One was made to be safe and secure, not luxurious. Bowing to that, Trump ditched Qatari One, reverting to the old aircraft due to security. If Trump had the balls of steel he’s always making himself out to have, he would have said, “Damn the danger,” and stayed with Qatari One. He didn’t, because he remains a coward.
Struggling with declining popularity and growing problems, Trump wheeled out more distractions via Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!
I don’t blame him. This week had Trump talking about a country which doesn’t exist, veering away like he was confused on the tarmac in Turkey, struggling to walk, and appearing to fall asleep in a meeting. The last ‘could have been’ Trump focusing on a translator, but I’m giving Trump the same latitude that Trump and MAGA gave President Biden.
The optics are horrible. Trump looks like the feeble, doddering old person that he accused President Joe Biden of being.
With nothing new available, Trump returned to talking about Greenland, bleating about what a security threat it is.
That doesn’t change anything. The Epstein files are still out there, waiting to be released and fully expose Trump. The economy is still groaning and flailing from the Trump tariffs and rising prices due to the Trump war.
Some excellent posts are out there to help cope with the Trumpsanity.
The One Big Beautiful Bill was passed last year. Trump named it because it held everything that he wanted.
- Jan Ressenger wrote it in “One Big Beautiful Bill” Has Already Begun Damaging Children’s Well-Being: It Will Only Get Worse. She shows the One Big Beautiful Bill’s negative impact, noting it is deepening child poverty and inequality, reducing healthcare for millions, and shows why Congress needs to change it.
- Annie Asks summarized our political mess and candor in politics in her post, Mitch McConnell, Graham Platner, and Candor in American Politics. Schroedinger’s McConnell — both alive and dead until we see his corporeal vessel — has been generating a lot of press, along with what’s happening with Graham Platner and others running for our nation’s highest offices. It’s a good read to help filter the noise.
- Jill Dennison shares John Pavlovitz’s column about Graham Platner, reminding us as Democrats and Progressives in what we don’t want in our candidates in MISSING: Humanity | Filosofa’s Word
Pavlovitz finished his comments:
As the Democrats scramble to choose his replacement and try to salvage a victory in Maine, progressives, liberals, and moderates who are crestfallen today need to remember that in the loftier spaces that transcend politics, this is still a win.
Choosing not to align with indecency always is.
I agree with him. Likewise, choosing not to align with Trumpsanity is a step forward to a better world.
Thursday’s Theme Music — Heroes
Thursday, July 9, 2026 — Ashland, southern Oregon.
Gonna be another 90+ degree summer day in our Valley. Now is the time to be outdoor doing things, as it’s 70, with a light cooling breeze. Heeding that advice, that’s exactly what our Papi did. No moss grows under his paws.
Familial news front remains quiet. Mom’s house is going through the appraisal process today, needed for the buyer’s loan. Fingers crossed, you know? Fingers crossed is my favorite way to achieve good results, knock on wood.
We’re not at war again but Trump says the cease fire is over and we’re firing missiles at us, and they’re doing the same. The peace president declared, “This is really not a war so much. It’s a de-nuking of Iran, de-nuclearization of Iran.” To people who were in wars before, it seems like a war, what with all the bombings, explosions, and death. Classic Trump Double Standards.
Trump also previously declared that Iran no longer had any nuclear capabilities. Yet he’s attacking them again to get rid of their nuclear capabilities.
It all feels like more of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Other than MAGA, Trump’s popularity is dropping. Bombing Iran is unpopular, and will likely get worse as Trump shifts why we’re doing it and how long it will last, exposing him again to being unreliable. The war will drive prices up again, and cause drops in the stock market, affecting the 401Ks that Trump was just crowing about a few weeks ago.
But the ‘conflict’ gives him a private boast to his ego because he can unleash the military and say to himself, “Look how powerful I am.”
Meanwhile, prices will rise. Affordability will get worse.
Trump will get richer.
Bonnie Tyler passed away. I always enjoyed her voice and style. So, today’s song is a reflection of her impact.
“Holding Out for A Hero” is right as a song to remember Bonnie Tyler as well as a song for the moment. Trump and his cast of spineless GOP minions are not heroes. Many have abandoned their duties as part of the checks and balances system in a crass display to remain in power, to be relevant, and to enrich themselves.
Meanwhile, on the Democrat’s side of the aisle, we have the Graham Platner fiasco. We thought he was someone with principles and moral courage. Subsequent revelations showed we were wrong.
Now we’re again looking for heroes. People to stand up against Trump and help rebuild our democracy. Someone who will drain the swamp and restore our values.
I hope your day is beneficial to you in every matter that’s important.
Coffee is here.
RIP, Bonnie Tyler.
Cheers
A Dad Leak Dream
There was a leak in the bathroom.
A thick tube of clear water spurted out of the wall. White tiles had been removed above the tub about five feet up. Oh, dear, what a mess, with some black fuzzy thing happening in the opening.
A trio of engineers, casually dressed, of different styles, heights, ages, one woman, two men, came in on behalf of the townhouse association. Because this wasn’t unique to this townhouse. It’d happened throughout the complex. This trio was going unit to unit to assess and strategize. I was just watching them from back by the door, listening as they ignored me. The spoke of how to fix it, what must be done.
Leaving, I headed across a common through sunshine to my own townhouse because, hey, that had been my father’s place, which slightly changed everything. He wasn’t there to look after it, so I was acting on his behalf.
I entered my own townhouse where the same problem existed but seemed to be on a much smaller scale. Some wall had been removed from the bathroom to the right which didn’t seem to have anything to do with the leak. I didn’t understand what that was about but I knew where to go for explanation.
I sought that women and this little rotund blonde explained something that kind of made sense and eased my anxieties. Going off again, I found I had a broken arm. No, not broken, just not working right. I’d been advised to keep it in a sling. I didn’t have a sling, so I fashioned one, and then modified it again and again, decided this was a good place to keep things, like my wallet, keys, and glasses.
So I tucked them in but then needed more material, so I added other things, and reshaped it, and reshaped it. People were going past as I did this and I turned away, trying to keep things private.
I decided to call my stepmother to tell her about Dad’s townhouse. Then I realized that Dad was dead and this was a dream. That I had actually a dream in a dream, and that the townhouse with the plumbing problem wasn’t real.
But I called my stepmother. I said, “I was thinking about Dad because it’s his birthday.” Then I realized, that’s not right. I said, “No, because it was my birthday.”
She was talking but it came to me, this call isn’t happening; it’s also a dream.
I awoke.
The Naha Dream
Another dream from last night found my wife and I arriving on an island – not deserted but civilized, part of a nation.
We were younger, in our thirties. Don’t know why we were there, but we were returning.
After disembarking from a red and white ferry, we found our car, got in, and began driving home. Leaving the port parking area, we were behind a small, old, Army-green bus. I knew that the driver – a man about my age – had been on the same boat as me, along with a group of quiet, sullen children.
Both of us drove over and parked at a little office to get cleared to go. I arrived there, went in, got my paper and got clearance.
Back in my car with my wife, we prepared to go on. Watching that slow-moving old green bus, I said, “Oh, no, don’t get in front of us.”
He did, pulling slowly onto the narrow, paved road. The road had a few potholes and high berms where the shoulders had crumbled and the dirt washed away. The green bus belched dark smoke.
I figured I was in for a long, slow trip behind that bus. My wife and I talked about the bus. But the bus pulled over to the right. Getting out of the bus, the driver waved us down.
He asked, “Do you know how to get to Naha?”
“Naha?” My wife and I were surprised, taken aback.
He continued on his own, explaining, “I’m going to go fishing there.”
I thought, fishing at Naha? “Yes,” my wife and I answered, talking at the same time. I took the lead. “Keep going on this road. There’s a intersection where you go right. There’s a brown sign that says ‘Naha’ on.”
“Is it a big sign?” he asked.
I laughed. “No, it’s one of those little military signs.” He looked military so I guessed he would understand that. “It’s brown but it’s by itself. You won’t miss it.”
He walked away and my wife and I drove on. “Fishing at Naha?” we said back and forth, wondering, is he taking the children to go fishing at Naha? We could think of better places to go but that was his business.
Dream end
Crime & Plumbing Dream
The dream found me at home – not my real-life place – with my wife. I awoke to discover that she had hired people to fix the plumbing. Thick, dark dust filled the air from the work. Three men were going all through the house, looking at the pipes and changing things.
I was floored that my wife had apparently decided to do that without consulting me. “First that I’ve heard about it,” I huffed before going off.
Coming back later, the men were in another part of the house. The three were all older, with short hair, white skin, and wore coveralls. Weirdly, usually they stayed clustering, staring at the pipes and talking about what they were going to do.
I came across my wife in another room. Wrench in hand, she was working herself on plumbing in a bathtub. I was like, “What the hell?”
I noticed that she was working on the faucet and spigots but she was on the side of the tub and had the floor torn up; but the tub still had its faucet and spigots attached on the end. I wondered, is she putting in new ones on the side to make it easier for her? Or putting in a new tub? I didn’t.
Going outside, I saw that she had people working in the garden and was building something new out there. That worried me. I knew that she had evidence of crimes committed buried there. (I was thinking that it was a murder but I didn’t seem sure.) I went back and told her that I didn’t think that was a smart decision but she was busy with the pipes and didn’t respond.
Returning outside, I saw a large rock being moved; I knew that was crucial evidence. With a sigh, I also saw that a police detective I’d seen earlier was watching and saw the rock. A little later, the police began digging up the area.
I thought, my wife is going to be going away, because her DNA is all over that. That disappointed and saddened me but I also thought, I should be okay because my DNA won’t be there.
Dream end
Michael Seidel, writer 