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Thickening, layer, dark wool clouds lay seige to diminishing blue sky patches. Hi. Welcome to Frida, October 3, 2025 in Ashlandia. Rains which came yesterday will continue today, chilling the 50 F air and keeping it from getting much higher than the mid-fifties. Autumn is here, and winter is coming.

My wife and I chatted about this as we drove on errands. “I like days like this,” I said, appreciating, at that point, a cloudy sky with a blustery wind and lazy, low angle sunshine. It was about 68 F but felt warmer because the breeze carried in summery hints, like leftovers in the kitchen. Then I laughed. “But that’s how it happens with every season. There’s a sense of gladness and appreciation for the new season. Then.”

“Then you get tired of it,” my wife finished for me. “Summer sunshine is great, and the hot air feels wonderful for a while but then, OMG, it’s hot day after day and you get tired of it. Now fall is here, and it’s great but in another month, we’ll be complaining about how cold and wet it is. That’s human nature.”

After perusing news and skating through details of how Trump is wrecking the United States, I wonder when the MAGA will awaken and turn on him. Well, we know that answer. It’s been established that the vast majority of them won’t turn on him until they are personally aggrieved. They’ll wait until they can’t afford healthcare because premiums are skyrocketing. Inflation won’t bother them until suddenly they find themselves unable to buy the food they’re used to because tariffs and trade wars force them to go without. The shutdowns to colleges and universities and Trump’s decision to curtail the war on cancer won’t hit them until they or a loved-one are suffering cancer’s effects and they wonder, why can’t we fix this. Polluted skies and water won’t bother them until it’s their air they can’t breathe, their water they can’t drink. They’ll remain indifferent about Trump’s anti-vax campaign until their children are sick and dying, and they’re wondering, why? They won’t be upset with what’s happening to the immigrants until suddenly there are fewer people to wait on them, to provide services, or there’s less doctors, nurses, and healthcare providers and they can’t get appointments because trained professionals are no longer available. The MAGA won’t care until the military rolls into their town under Trump’s law and order banner and they discover themselves being thrown to the ground or locked up and held for days even though they’re citizens. They won’t care until the private voucher systems states are instituting start turning out ignorant children and they wonder, what’s wrong with schools these days. They won’t care about Trump gutting tourism with his fear and bullying tactics until there are no longer tourists providing tourist dollars and businesses are closing, leaving empty buildings and unemployment in their wake. They won’t care about the lack of infrastructure funding until their bridges collapse, killing friends and family, and inconveniencing them. They won’t care about free speech until Trump turns on them and warns them, “How dare you criticize me?”

Yes, so The Neurons turned to an old faithful for these MAGAts. They’re acting like zombies. The Cranberries came up with a brilliant song for ’em: “Zombie”. Zombie vocalist Dolores O’Riordan wrote the powerful song after a bombing conducted by the Provisional Irish Republican Army (Provisional IRA) killed and injured people.

There were a lot of bombs going off in London and I remember this one time a child was killed when a bomb was put in a rubbish bin – that’s why there’s that line in the song, ‘A child is slowly taken’. [ … ] We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I was quite young, but I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that’s why I was saying, ‘It’s not me’ – that even though I’m Irish it wasn’t me, I didn’t do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension.

— Dolores O’Riordan in 2017, on writing “Zombie”

h/t to Wikipedia.org

She sings, “What’s in your head, in your head, zombie, zombie, zombie?” Because a zombie is an unthinking creature who is just going along with what’s happening, never awakening to its impacts. That’s what’s in my head this morning, pouring through the morning mental music stream.

Peace and grace seem to be a long way off. I’m searching for some way to lure them in. Maybe a ritual. I hope they find and hold you. Until then, I guess I’ll depend on coffee. Think I’ll indulge in another gulp now, while I can still afford it. Cheers

Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Breaking news arrives. Many can be ignored — he doesn’t really think of them as breaking news, but whatever. Different strokes, right?

Today’s breaking news update said, “Nashville — Three children, three adults”

Breath held, he clicked to read more, fearing what might follow, hoping that the next words are safe. But no, the three children and three adults are dead, results from the latest school shootings in the United States. Another sigh is felt, more weariness is enjoined.

Well, at least everyone can own a gun. You know, in case they ever need to fight zombies.

Proved

11:30 PM. 72 degrees F outside. The night was still. Nothing stirred. Moon and starshine relieved the night’s black canopy.

He slipped outside with a flashlight and quietly looked up and down the street and around the bushes. Just as expected, he found no zombies.

He nodded to himself as he returned inside. This conclusively proved that zombies don’t like warm weather.

“Train to Busan”

“Train to Busan” is a Korean movie with English subtitles. It’s all about zombies but it’s the best zombie movies which I’ve seen in years. Taut, well-paced, human, with heroes to root for and villains to root against, we completely enjoyed it. The one problem was that it was on the Roku Channel. Sure, it’s free with your Roku account, but the movie had subtitles built in. The Roku system’s subtitles would come in over the movie subtitles about half a second later. Although the system’s subtitles were more legible, we needed to turn them off because the dynamic distracted and annoyed some viewers.

Part of watching such foreign movies is playing the ‘what if it’s made in America’ game. Who would play the villain and various heroes? Hope you can see it and make recommendations. It’s a movie I wholeheartedly endorse.

The Zombies Are Here

The zombies are here.

He wasn’t surprised. Not eating brains. Yet. No. Just a matter of time. Someone will probably tell them that eating brains will save them from the coronavirus or something. He wouldn’t put it past them.

He’d been expecting the zombies for a while. They’d quit thinking several years ago. Clearly were unthinking and undead, not caring about anything except themselves and the undermining of their so-called freedoms.

What else could they be but zombies? Living in such an alternative world, believing ridiculous conspiracy theories for which proof wasn’t offered. Well, okay, sometimes they tried to put up some ‘proof’ – or their idea of it – but then it was shot down. You know, like masks don’t work. Vaccines will magnetize you. The coronavirus is a hoax. No worse than the flu. There’s a secret child sex ring on Mars. Trump is still secretly POTUS. And take ivermectin for the virus that doesn’t exist, that’s no worse than the flu. Now they were trying to blame Biden for Afghanistan. Biden, who has been in office for seven months, who took office twenty years after the war in that poor country began.

Yep, the zombies are here.

The Zombie

He held his breath. Listened. Turned toward the sound. Looked for escape. Too late.

Sounds increased. Growling. Snarling.

Zombie.

A hiding place was needed.

Nothing was in the room.

Weapon, then. A defense.

Twisting, he crashed through the kitchen, jerking open drawers, pawing through contents. Snarling became a roar. The zombie burst in and rushed him.

Grabbing his coffee mug, he spun. “Here. Coffee.” His hand shook as he held out the steaming cup.

The zombie stopped. Accepted the mug. Breathed in the aroma. Took a sip. Sighed.

“Thanks.”

Turning, she shuffled out with muted growls.

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