Day of the Last Beginning

Here on the last day of July, it's hard to conceive that summer's almost over.  But classes start tomorrow for Atlanta Public Schools (another inconceivable thought to me - my summer vacations used to last past Labor Day weekend). 

The autumn equinox and the start of the Fall season isn't until September 22, but the Universal Solar Calendar divides the year into five seasons - Childwinter, Spring, Summer, Fall, and Hagwinter - and there's only one more week left to the USC Summer season.

Which means only one more week of Sun Girl before a new avatar takes over for the Fall. Any suggestions? 

Day of the Third Angel

Kamala's in Atlanta today, and isn't it interesting that everyone seems to refer to her by her first name, when virtually every previous president went by their last name?

Not that I'm saying it's at all assured that Harris will win the election, but recent polling and reporting suggests that the Great Red State of Georgia is in play and might go Democratic again (Georgia went for Biden in 2020). If Georgia goes blue, other swing states are sure to do the same.

Not that it will make any difference. I'm still convinced that regardless of the outcome of the popular vote, or of the Electoral vote for that matter, Republicans will contest the results in court. Disturbing recent reporting suggests that the far right has successfully installed election deniers into key battleground districts, and they very well may refuse to certify any results that aren't for The Big Cheat-Oh, Their refusal will be appealed, of course, and the case will eventually work its way up to the Supreme Court, who will install their orange hero regardless of the merits or the constitutionality of the case before them. 

And why wouldn't they? After all, a President Harris is sure to endorse Biden's recent proposal for accountability and a binding Code of Ethics for the Supreme Court, and they can't have that now, can they? No, they'll flip the middle finger to America, announce Trump the winner, and what are you gonna do about it, punk? Move to Canada? Write a letter? Post a snarky meme to Facebook? 

This is the last summer of America-As-We-Knew-It. Enjoy the season, savor it as if it's your last, because it's going to be. 

Deafening Robes of Dawn

 

As we've already stated here many times, on every other day since March 27, we have walked at least four miles, usually five, and occasionally as many as six. That streak ended today.

Up until now, we've ben pretty successful at getting our steps in before or after the passing rainstorm. We didn't let chilly days in March stop us and we didn't let sweltering temperatures in July deter our miles. We were determined and always found a way. Until today.

We've had two weeks now of overcast rainy weather,  with either rain or the threat of imminent rain present just about every day. Getting up this morning to about the 15th dreary day in a row, I actually started to feel some sense of seasonal affective disorder.

The forecast was for some chance or rain, ranging from 20 to 80%, all day. My phone said the peak probability would be at 11:00 am, Yahoo weather predicted the worst at 2:00 pm, and weather.com thought it wouldn't come until 6:00. Every time I looked out the window, Mother Nature seemed to think it was about to hit the fan any minute. 

I decided to risk it around 2:00, Yahoo be damned, but even as I was starting to change into my workout clothes, I heard the roll of thunder for the first time today. I cancelled my plan.

It's okay to miss a day. After four months and 400 miles, I think I've earned a day off. My concern was that if I miss a day, I'd be primed psychologically to miss more days and less likely to sneak a daring walk in between two rain events in one day. But life is change, impermanence is swift, and nothing lasts forever. Instead of putting on my workout clothes, I threw them into the washer (they needed it) and I'll try again tomorrow.

Besides, the long term forecast looks like this god-awful humid and rainy spell may finally pass sometime in the next couple of days. I look forward to that.      

Update: Just as soon as I posted the words above, I saw the day's first patch of direct sunlight on the ground outside. The three oracles of Apple, Yahoo, and weather.com all agreed that I had a window of opportunity for at least the next three hours, so I took my workout clothes out of the dryer (they weren't yet fully dry, but they'd soon be soaked in sweat anyway) and started walking. It was still oppressively humid - it felt like walking through chicken broth outside - but I got in 5.3 miles anyway and the streak remains unbroken!  I have to admit that I feel better about myself for not giving in and getting out there despite the weather.

Day of Wages

 

It's been a humid, rainy month, but there haven't been any big storms. Still, the wet soil and moist conditions have accelerated the rotting of wood in dead and dying trees and I've seen newly fallen trees and downed limbs on my walks along the Beltline trail and the Chattahoochee NRA.

Today, the neighbors noted that a fallen tree had demolished a vacant house just up the road from me. The house used to belong to an elderly gentleman, one of the original homeowners on this block. His house is now vacant because he died when a different tree fell on him on the same property. Now another tree took out the house in which he used to live.

After the trauma of having a fallen tree demolish my roof in late October 2020, I consoled myself that now that the disaster has happened, I'm safe under the "lightning doesn't strike twice" rule. But this kind of questions that assumption, as two trees have fallen on a property just a few doors up the road, taking out a house and ending a life. 

Safety is an illusion.          

Fifth Day of Light

Kamala Harris listen to Charles Mingus, Roy Ayers, Louie Armstrong, and Ella Fitzgerald.

Donald Trump listens to Kenny G, Kid Rock, and Ted Nugent.

If you can't see the difference (if you can't hear the difference), then there's no helping you and I'm afraid we can't be friends.   

Fourth Day of Light

 

Despite just awful weather recently, I've still managed to keep to my every-other-day walking schedule. Just about this whole month of July has been oppressively humid here in Georgia, making exercising outdoors even more of a challenge, and all the moisture in the air has resulted in afternoon rain and/or thunderstorms. But each time, I've managed to start my walk early enough to get back home before the rain began, sometimes with mere minutes to spare, and was only caught out in the rain once (and it was a light rain at that).

I know it doesn't amuse anybody but me, but my cumulative walking mileage (393 miles) is equivalent to the straight-line distance from my front door to Bloomington, Indiana.

Oh, Bloomington. Back in the early autumn of 1972, I was on a cross-country adventure with some friends. Our car broke down somewhere in central Pennsylvania and we hitch-hiked from there, eventually arriving on the Indiana University campus in Bloomington. We came across a church group offering free hot dogs and lemonade, and I politely asked a church lady if the food was for the public or Indiana students only.  

"We're not allowed to turn anyone away," the church lady sneered, "but if you're gonna eat we'd appreciate your taking your packs and stuff off downwind so that flies don't get in the food." Despite her rudeness, we ate there anyway and before too long, one long-haired student who called himself "Roach" told us that the students there were all jocks and rednecks, and led us to a relatively quiet and safe spot where we were able to eat in peace.

Many, many years later (2006), I attended an intensive and intense Zen meditation retreat in Bloomington: Fifty minutes of sitting meditation and 10 minutes of walking every hour for 12 straight hours for four days. It was mind-bending. Afterwards, when I finally reconnected back to my phone and the world, I found a message from my sister telling me that my father had died, and she'd been trying to reach me for days.

Those are my two Bloomington stories.

Back in the here and now, my weight continues to drop as I keep walking. Yesterday, I was below 190 pounds (189.6) for the first time since, well, forever ago.  That's 30 pounds lost in four months. People have noticed the change, and I can feel it. Of course, I'm doing this not to lose weight per se, but to reduce my blood glucose and lower my A1C to avoid diabetes. My next scheduled blood test is on 9/11 and I'll know then if my diet and exercise have been successful.      

Wish me luck.

Third Day of Light

Yesterday I paid my tribute to John Mayall, and then last night I learned that kora master Toumani Diabaté passed away in his home in Mali at age 58. Impermanence is swift. 

The kora is a traditional African instrument with 21 strings and a resonator body. The sound is something between a harp and a lute, and Malian masters like Diabaté use it to weave complex, hypnotic patterns of sound. It is so easy to get lost in the soothing sounds of the kora when in the hands of a master like Diabaté. 

Note: the name "Diabaté: is very common in Mali - it's like "Smith" in England or "Johnson" in the U.S. Toumani was born into a long line of Diabaté musicians and has traced his lineage back to 70 generations (!) of performers.

An adventurous collaborator, he's played with virtually every other African musician of note. He appears on Bjork's album, Volta, and recorded an album in Athens, Georgia. with blues musician Taj Mahal. He has a album of duets with the free-jazz trombonist Roswell Rudd (Archie Shepp Quintet, Liberation Music Orchestra, etc.). He's played with flamenco ensembles and collaborated with the bluegrass banjo master Bela Fleck.   

I first discovered him back during the file-sharing years of Napster and Usenet, when I would promiscuously download almost anything since there was no cost other than disc space. His music was one of those chance discoveries that makes me remember those days so fondly.

I could go on and on, but do your own research. I don't mean that dismissively or to be curt - it's more rewarding (and exciting) to explore on your own. As for Spotify, there's no such thing as a "bad" Toumani Diabaté recording, and you really can't go wrong with wherever you start. But be forewarned: once you "get it," the hook is set and you won't want to stop listening.

Second Day of Light

 

British blues-rock musician John Mayall died in his California home on Tuesday. He was 90 years old. Impermanence is swift.

I was a fan, although I must admit I kind of forgot about him somewhere along the line. To a degree, that's more a testament to Mayall's integrity than a knock against the quality of his music.  He played British blues rock, and for a period in the 1970s, that style was very popular and he got a lot of airplay on FM radio. But as styles and popular tastes changed, Mayall kept on playing the music he loved - British blues rock. He didn't go disco or punk when they were in vogue and he didn't put out a New Wave or alt rock LP. He stayed true to his original muse, consistently touring and putting out new albums of British blues rock, even though the masses had stopped listening. When the time came, I didn't replace my old vinyl records with Mayall CDs or MP3 files. I had forgotten, and it was only today that I fired up my Spotify account and remembered how good his music was.

I saw Mayall perform live on February 14 (Valentine's Day), 1975 at the old Academy of Music on 14th Street in Manhattan. Following the closing of the Fillmore East in 1971, the 3,400-seat Academy became a major downtown music venue, hosting a great many shows. In the mid-70s, some time after the Mayall show, the name changed to the Palladium, and in the 1980s, the Palladium was converted to a disco/nightclub by Studio 54 creator Steve Rubell and later operated by Limelight impresario Peter Gatien.   

In February 1975, I was living out in the town of Patchogue on Long Island, working as a handyman for an apartment complex. I dropped some acid the night of the show, but by that point in my life I was an experienced-enough tripper to easily navigate the Long Island Railroad and New York subway systems on acid and get to the Academy with a bunch of friends. One night in my life, I ran into Sun Ra on the subway, still dressed in full outer-space regalia, but I can't remember if it was the same night as the Mayall show or not. 

February 1975 was a transitional period in Mayall's career. The prior year, he released the album The Latest Edition, his first album to miss the U.S. charts since 1967 and his last for Polydor Records. Later that year, he released New Year, New Band, New Company on ABC, an unfortunate and uncharacteristic side excursion into funky, honky-tonk blues.     

I don't remember the setlist from the Academy show, although I do recall that he covered some, but not all, of my favorite songs of his. Nor do I remember who his side musicians were, although given the year, he was probably touring with the Latest Edition lineup, including Larry Taylor on bass, guitarists Hightide Harris and Randy Resnick, and Red Holloway on reeds. Even though the show was almost 50 years ago, I do remember that most songs included long instrumental solos, with the featured soloist often breaking down into minimalist passages, as if they were trying to produce as little sound as possible without actually stopping altogether. "Is the song over?," I kept wondering. "Should I be clapping now?" I also remember how people cheering "Mayall!" sounded to me like that were saying, "Mayo!"     

No telling who the opening act was. (Update: the internet's an amazing thing! I just found an archive of the NY Times from 2/14/75, including a listing for Mayall at the Academy. Also appearing on the bill were Keef Hartley, who played on several Mayall albums and whose Keef Hartley Band had played the original Woodstock, Hartley's side project, Dog Soldier, and the long-running Canadian hard-rock band, April Wine, none of whom I even remotely remember.)  

Anyway, considering that most people still alive today don't remember Mayall in his heyday, here's a link to a Spotify playlist of some of his best work:    

First Day of Light

 

American History 101: 2024 (Summary)

In the country formerly known as the United States, the events of  2024 were dominated by a right-wing coup to take over the government. The Supreme Court was loaded with far-right ideologues appointed by former President Trump between 2016 and 2020, giving the Court a 6-3 conservative advantage led by two older justices (Alito and Thomas) appointed by earlier Republican presidents. The two judges, who openly received lavish gifts from wealthy donors, made little effort to conceal their rampant corruption and ideological prejudices. The two were able to lead the other four conservatives on the bench into ever-more extreme decisions, upending and overturning decades of precedent. They even ruled that it wasn't illegal to pay off politicians, so long as the payment was made after a favorable decision and not before, in other words, a "gratuity" or tip and not an explicit bribe. 

In a stunning power grab, the Court overturned the so-called "Chevron deference," which allowed federal agencies to interpret congressional laws and acts in order to execute the mandates they received from Congress. In the decision, Chief Justice Roberts said that only judges, not regulators, could interpret Congressional laws. They further ruled that Presidents had absolute immunity from the law for undefined "official acts," and even "implied immunity" for the "outer limit" of official acts as President.

The latter decision was especially shocking in light of the multiple criminal cases against former President Trump. Earlier in the year, Trump has been convicted on 34 counts of felony for campaign financial fraud in the 2016 election, stemming from a hush-money payment to a star of pornographic films. Trump was waiting on sentencing for the convictions at the time of the Court's immunity decision, although he was not in jail and out campaigning to be elected to President a second time.

Other cases for Trump's criminality were also tied up in the Courts. A federal judge in Florida dismissed a case against him for illegally possessing classified documents, some of which reportedly contained sensitive information of "the highest order," because she felt that the Justice Department's special prosecutor who brought the case to trial hasn't been appointed by Congress (the decision was appealed). A trial in the State of Georgia for conspiracy to interfere in the 2016 election was tied up and delayed due to allegations that the Fulton County District Attorney had a personal, romantic relationship with a member of her staff.

Meanwhile, the incumbent President, the 81-year-old Joe Biden, who trailed Trump in most polls and had a low approval rating, was showing symptoms of senility, although he studiously avoided unscripted public appearances and press conferences. But on June 27th, during a televised live debate with Donald Trump, Biden's remarks were frequently incoherent and he appeared to be confused, tired, and forgetful. Despite his shocking performance, he initially insisted that he was fine and fully capable of holding office for four more years. He gave several subsequent interviews and held a press conference, and while he appeared more alert than during the debate, his diction and delivery did not alleviate the concerns of his Democratic allies and donors. He ended his Presidential campaign on July 23, endorsing his Vice President, Kamala Harris.

Pop Quiz: Which of the following accurately describes the remaining history of 2024 and the following years?

(a) The American electorate found the youthful vigor of VP Harris invigorating and enthusiastically rallied to support her, eventually electing her the 47th President, the first woman elected to the office and only the second person of color. Although the election was close and the results of the vote were contested in court, Harris prevailed and served two terms, replacing several of the corrupt, conservative judges on the Supreme Court in the process and ushering in decades of American prosperity and civil liberty. Aggressive measures to combat climate change are widely regarded as having saved the planet, and the global threat of authoritarianism and nationalism were effectively countered through skillful diplomacy and international alliances.  

(b) The 2024 election ended in a virtual tie and the conservative courts stepped in and awarded the Presidency to Donald Trump, who immediately started to avenge his political rivals and perceived enemies, suspending the rule of law in many cases. Following years of chaotic and confused ruling, Trump was killed by an angry mob in a coup attempt, but the right-wing party (formerly known as "Republican" but now called "MAGA") simply installed a new shadow president, suspended further elections, and imposed martial law. The country formerly known as the United States eventually fractured into competing kleptocracies ruled by warring corporations. Following several years of civil war and violence, a nuclear device was detonated during an uprising in the year 2032, triggering global thermo-nuclear annihilation and the end of humankind's domination of the planet.

Day of the Heavy Sight

 

The Gaming Desk wants you to know - and it can hardly believe it itself - that we're still playing Horizon: Forbidden West. 364 hours so far, third most of any game we've played, and those ones with more hours (Fallout 4 and Cyberpunk 2077) we're played through multiple, as in three, four, or more, times.

We finished the base game back in late June, and then spent some 40 hours in the Burning Shores DLC. Two weeks ago, we were about to pack it in, even selected and downloaded the next game we intend to play (Deus Ex: Human Revolution), but just before we closed out Horizon decided to peek behind the New Game + curtain to see if all our equipment and skills really would appear at the start of a second game. They would, and as soon as we went through the very initial scenes of the replay, we were hooked - we realized we're going to play the whole thing again. 

The New Game + replay is going along a lot faster than the original playthrough - my character is fully leveled up and stronger with all the skills from the first game, and I've solved all the tricky puzzles once already and even though I don't explicitly remember every one, I'm solving them a lot faster this time. 

Anyway, I fully expect to be playing Horizon for the rest of this month, and probably well into August as well. 

Rise of the Infanta

 

As you've undoubtedly already heard by now, President Joe Biden has announced he's ending his campaign for reelection.

This is truly historical. After yesterday's rant, I'm not going to say that I'm "old," but I have lived a sufficient number of years that I can remember, albeit faintly, Lyndon Johnson announcing he won't seek reelection in 1968. I was 14 then - too young to have followed politics seriously, but like many young people, I associated Johnson with the Vietnam War and was glad he wasn't running. As it turns out, Nixon was far worse, by so many measures including escalation of the war.  

I also remember Nixon's abrupt resignation following the Watergate scandal in 1974. I was 20 then, and thoroughly despised Nixon, the war, his stupid scandal, his treachery, his "war on drugs," and so many other things.

But even if you live 70 years like me, you only see this kind of thing a handful of times in your life - less than the fingers on one hand. Sure, I remember incumbent presidents losing reelection bids (Carter, Ford, Bush Senior, Agent Orange), but that was different. I've seen front-runner presidential candidates drop out of the race following scandals (Gary Hart, John Edwards), but never before an incumbent.

I remember the first Moon landing (I was camping in a Louisiana bayou). I remember the fall of the Berlin wall (CNN on tv in my apartment near Albany, NY). I remember 9/11 (Day Four of a week-long Zen meditation retreat). I'll remember this day, too - we may never see this happen again.

There's a lot more to be said, but I'm still processing my thoughts and others have already said  things about this better than I ever could. 

Best wishes to Vice President and presumptive nominee Harris, and thank you for your service, Joseph Biden. You've served your country well.

Day of Dew

Joe Biden's age isn't a problem, and it certainly isn't the problem.

The rampant and frankly disgusting ageism associated with Biden's candidacy disgusts me. Ageism is arguably the last socially acceptable form of discrimination left, and the press, television and social media are just wallowing in it right now.

Biden is 81. Bernie Sanders is 82, but no one's saying that he should retire due to age. Christ, Marshall Allen just turned freaking 100, and he's still playing alto saxophone with the Sun Ra Arkestra, and playing with fire and passion. 

It doesn't matter what number a person's age is. Discriminating against a person on the basis of the year of their birth is still discrimination.

Mental acuity, memory, mobility, and cognitive ability are all real issues. If there are problems with Joe Biden, and I'm not denying that there are, they're related to his cognitive abilities and speech pathology, not his age. I also won't deny that as a person ages, memory, acuity, and cognition become impaired, although at different rates in different people. But to say that year x is "too old" for a job, for a role, or for a meaningful place in society is prejudicial and discriminatory. 

Look at the DMV. As people age, eyesight can become a problem. But the DMV doesn't say that after some certain age, people are too old to drive. Instead, they require eye exams for everyone, and if you pass, your vision's okay to drive a car, regardless of whether you're 18 or 81. If you can't prove adequate corrected eyesight, you're denied a license, simple as that.

So stop with the ageism already. I swear, if I hear one more motherfucker say Joe Biden's "too old," I swear I'll, um, well, I'll do something. I'll get angry, I know that much. Say he lacks mental acuity, say he can't keep a train of thought, say he's forgetful - that's all fine. But none of those are the same as saying he's of any particular age.

Day of the Temple

 

In John Barth's comic novel, The Floating Opera, a wealthy but eccentric recluse, Harrison Mack, Sr., becomes so proud of his accomplishments and deeds that he begins to preserve everything he produces. Not only notes and transcripts of his thoughts, he even keeps his hair and nail clippings stored in jars, and his basement is full of pickle jars preserving his excrement. If he produced it, he decided, it must be worth keeping. On hot summer days, the odor from the pickle was noticeable throughout the house.

Legend has it that in his final days, Howard Hughes did much the same thing, at least with respect to urine, but I've read The Floating Opera so many times that it's become entrenched in my mind, and I frequently conflate Howard Hughes with Harrison Mack, Sr.   

I wouldn't put such behavior past Donald Trump, at least in the future if not already. The boxes of classified documents in his shitty Florida golf hotel hint at such excessive-compulsive hoarding. 

Last night, the Orange One gave his acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention. I tried to watch it, I really did, but could only take it for about five minutes. The man repels me, and I quickly go from outraged to exhausted by his constant stream of misinformation and outright lies. 

I changed channels and went back after about 30 minutes to hear the post-speech analysis, but he was still going at it. I went over to Comedy Central and watched an old rerun of The Office followed by The Daily Show, but when they were over, he was still talking. In all, he yammered on for some 90 minutes, setting a record for the longest convention speech in history (a commentator on MSNBC pointed out that second and third place are also held by Agent Orange).   

Apparently, from the clips I've seen, he spoke at times from the teleprompter and at other times ad-libbed, as per his usual style. It didn't take long before he started riffing on themes from his moronic rallies for which he's been widely ridiculed, e.g., Hannibal Lecter, electric sharks, etc. I'm sure that he was advised to "keep it Presidential," and not succumb to airing his personal grievances and odd anecdotes, but it seems that in his narcissistic mind, any thought that pops into his head is so profound and important that it must be shared with his followers, no matter how ridiculous, no matter how self-incriminating. 

"I am trying to buy your vote, I’ll be honest about that,” he said, referring to Wisconsin voters.  It seems there is no filter in his mind between his mouth and the random thoughts that pop up in his head. If he so much as thinks it, it must be worth sharing with the audience, the cameras, and the rest of America. In his malignant narcissism, everything his mind produces must have value. 

In this, he's not unlike old Harrison Mack, Sr. Free your mind and your ass will follow, they say, and if you believe everything your mind produces has value, it's just a matter of time before you think everything your ass produces must have value, too. We're probably not too far from discovering mason jars full of big orange turds stashed away somewhere in the bowels of Mar-a-Lago.        

Master of the Relics

 

It's over. America, that is.

The radical far-right Christian Nationalist fascists have control of the courts. No matter what happens in the upcoming election, no matter who runs, Republican senators will balk at certifying results they don't like, and news outlets will cover accusations of "widespread voter fraud" (even if the accusations are baseless), and the results of key swing states will be litigated. The corrupt, cynical, and compromised Supreme Court will ultimately anoint the Republican candidate as our new ruler, and that will be that for American democracy.

Sycophants at the on-going Republican National Convention are praising Trump, claiming he's foregoing the life of leisure and comfort his wealth would allow him in order to help rebuild America and make this country great again. That's pure horseshit. First, American doesn't need the kind of rebuilding they have in mind, and second, Trump doesn't give a good goddamn about anything other than himself. He's not running due to patriotism or sense of duty - he's running to avoid his legal and financial woes, and because his ego can't accept anything less than being the King.

His minions, supporters and enablers - and the puppet masters pulling the strings behind the scenes - are having him run not because they care or even particularly like Trump. They're supporting him to remove the last vestiges of any regulatory control over their own obscene accumulation of wealth. They will dismantle regulatory agencies like the EPA, the FDA, and the FTC. They will "privatize" agencies like NOAA, FEMA, and the Department of Education. They will neuter the enforcement capabilities of the FBI and DOJ. 

Don't believe me? Think I'm being paranoid and pessimistically speculating? It's what they're openly saying, and it's all documented in their playbook, Project 2025.     

I'm 70 years old. I've got maybe 10 good years left, possibly less. Almost certainly less if they take away my Social Security (which I involuntarily paid into for 50 years of my life) and Medicare benefits. I won't be around for long to be the grist in their mill, another serf working for the benefit of a ruling class. 

It's the children I pity . . . 

Day of the Heart's Release

 

Why do I keep blogging about my diet and walking routine? What am I, boring or something?

Well, yes, I am in fact boring. But the reason I keep writing about the miles and frequency of my walks is because that's part of what keeps me motivated to continue. And continuing is lowering by blood pressure, taking off weight, and fighting my diagnosed prediabetes.

But continuation is becoming a challenge. After a long drought through most of June, we've entered a rainy spell. Monday, I had to cut my walk short after four miles and got back home just as a severe thunderstorm was minutes away from breaking. The forecast for each of the next 10 days is a 30-50% chance of rain.

Today, I was getting ready to head out, but the forecast suddenly said rain in the next hour (my routine takes about two hours). I changed my mind and decided to wait it out until after the rain, but then, even as I was writing this, the forecast changed again and now just says "partly cloudy," so I gotta go before they change their minds again.

Day of the Horns

 

I'm no conspiracy theorist, although I do believe that we'll never really know the actual circumstances behind John F. Kennedy's assassination.

I refuse to believe that the sniper who fired at Trump on Friday was a Republican plant, that Trump, the GOP, or the Secret Service would approve of planting a 20-year-old introvert with no military training to fire at a candidate and not hit, but just graze, his head. I wouldn't put it past Trump or the GOP, but I can't believe that the Secret Service would condone a gunman killing random people in the crowd while shooting "toward" a candidate. 

And yet what we clearly see with our own eyes doesn't add up logically.  How was a gunman able to command a rooftop with a clear view of the campaign stage and well within the range of an AK-17?  In the early aughts, I used to work in an office building what was within the flight path of one of the runways of Marietta, Georgia's Dobbins Air Force Base. George W. Bush used to like to use Dobbins when he visited Atlanta, and every time he came or left, there were Secret Service gunmen on the roof of our building and all of the many other high-rise office buildings in the area, just in case some sniper might want to take a shot at Air Force One as it came in for a landing or took off. But a rooftop within 140 yards of the campaign stage? Nah, no need to secure that.

Right-wing theorists consider this flaw in security as evidence of a "deep-state" conspiracy to eliminate Trump. The fact that there's credible video of people at the rally who spotted the sniper on the roof and tried to alert police and security to no avail doesn't exactly refute their fears.

But watch the video of the stage for the reaction of the candidate and his security immediately after the shots were fired. Secret Service staff immediately, as per their training, threw themselves over the candidate to sacrifice their bodies as human shields, but as they hustled Trump off stage, his first and only words were that he needed to get his shoes (which somehow came off in the melee).  Surprisingly, instead of whisking him offstage, they paused and allowed him to retrieve his shoes and put them on. Then they allowed him to stand up, exposing his head, and give a clenched-fist salute to the crowd. Three times.

They didn't know if the threat was over. The Secret Service snipers that were in the area apparently made quick work of taking out the gunman and reporting that "the threat had been neutralized." But were the agents on stage so sure there was no other threat, no other gunmen, that they allowed Trump to pose and preen for the cameras? And if they were so sure there was no more threat, why take him off stage at all? 

It all makes no sense. Either the Secret Service was in on a "deep-state" assassination attempt and were giving the gunman or gunmen another chance to take a shot, or they were in on a GOP false-flag operation to make it look like as assassination attempt to add to Trump's list of grievances and his persecution complex. Or maybe they're just that incompetent, but if so, why have there been no close-calls on a President or a major political candidate since Reagan back in 1981?         

The whole thing makes so little sense and I'm afraid we'll never get an explanation. I heard on the morning news that the head of the Secret Service told a reporter that the building the gunman used had a sloped roof and for safety reasons they decided to secure the building from the interior. But that doesn't pass the red-face test for credibility. 

The most rational explanation I can think of is that a naïve, 20-year-old gun enthusiast just got incredibly lucky, caught the Secret Service asleep at the switch, used a ladder to get on the roof of a building that had agents on the inside but not on the roof, and found himself in the one cognitive blind spot of the security detail. He was able to get off a few shots, missing the candidate's head my mere millimeters but grazed his left ear. Or he hit a teleprompter and a glass shard cut the ear.

If that were in a movie, I would find it all implausible and just as outlandish as any "deep-state" or GOP conspiracy theory. And the sad thing is, we'll probably never learn the truth.

Child Found Within the Tree

Since late March of this year, I've kept to my every-other-day walking exercise schedule. Today, I got a late start (more on that in a moment) and got back to the house just as a severe thunderstorm was breaking. Still, another day added to my perfect record.

I got a late start because this morning I had to take my laptop back to the repair shop. They successfully wiped the hard drive and reinstalled Windows 10, and I successfully logged into my Microsoft account and installed Google Chrome, but the laptop was making a scratching noise, sort of like an old mechanical hard drive makes just before it crashes (I've heard that sound too many times in my life). 

The chipper young lady who took care of me last week wasn't there, and I hit it off on the wrong foot with the young man who was at the counter instead when he asked me, right at the very beginning, "Sir, how old is the computer? It looks like it's been around for a long time." For the record, I've kept the laptop in fine shape - it was me who looks like he's been around for a long time and the young punk was just extrapolating. 

I thought back and remembered that I bought the laptop in 2016. Granted, that was 8 years ago (time flies!), but it was an extremely powerful, top-of-the-line laptop when I got it, and it still kicks ass. But in 2016, the guy behind the counter was probably still in high school.  

He looked put upon as he opened the laptop to investigate the source of the noise, and then took it back behind the counter and out of my sight to look further. When he came back, he said the hard drive and everything else was fine, but the internal speaker was blown and making that crackling sound.  Why? "It's just old, sir."

"What?," I asked. "Speak louder! I can't hear you, sonny!" And then I said "Covfefe" and took out a gun and shot him.

No, that last part didn't happen, but I can't say it didn't cross my mind. He said it's fine to run the laptop as it is, even with the blown speaker, but I told him the sound was annoying and asked him to order a replacement. I was told it might take a couple of weeks to get the part for an older model like this but they'll let me know when it's in the shop. I might even actually return to the shop and let them install it when the part arrives. Who knows?

If Why Then Vanish

 

And just like that, the press stopped talking about Biden's age for, like, 12 hours.

Look, I wish I didn't have to say it, but of course I deplore violence of all sorts, including political violence. Episodes like last night's are a part of the reason I'm so anti-gun. 

But a quick reminder that after someone broke into Nancy Pelosi's home and attacked her husband with a hammer (the attacker told the police he was looking for Nancy), Republicans made jokes about it and Trump helped spread a conspiracy theory about the incident.

Quick reminder that after that his Mom dropped that kid off in Wisconsin to shoot and kill Black Lives Matter protesters, the right tried to make him into some sort of national hero.

Quick reminder that Republicans were silent about the plot to kidnap Michigan Governor Gretchen Witmer. 

But, yeah, I'm glad that the assassination attempt against Trump wasn't successful, that but a turn of his head or the slightest of breezes avoided the bullet landing in his brain by millimeters, but I can't help but believe this is the karma for violent rhetoric and embrace of fascistic brute force the Republicans have embraced. This is what happens when you flood the streets with all matters of guns and weaponry, and refuse to enact any meaningful gun-control legislation.      

Trump was surrounded by heavily armed Secret Service guards. There were armed snipers on surrounding rooftops. Magnetometers were used to screen the crowd. Trump was arguably one of the most protected humans on Earth, and still it's only by sheer luck he's still alive. Guns couldn't protect him and they won't make you any safer. They just make the world a more dangerous place.  

Day of the Wand

 I don't care how old Biden is.

When the alternative is authoritarianism, I'd vote for Methuselah before I vote for Trump.

Fuck MAGA! 

Day of the Dealt Hand

 

It's Day of the Dealt Hand, the 48th day of Summer in the Universal Solar Calendar. Time to deal out Jacks or better on a table by the beach.

Yesterday, I for dealt a bad hand. I received an email, allegedly from PayPal, telling me that someone was requesting $225 for some unspecified goods or service. It had two button: Pay Charge or Deny Payment.

I've seen these before and didn't fall for it. I didn't push either button, I just deleted the message and forgot about it.  

Later that day, I got another email from PayPal, stating that a fraudulent charge for $225 on my account has been cancelled, and that I should call a provided phone number. The domain name of the sender's address was "paypal.com" and the message looked legit, but again, I didn't follow any links or call the provided number. Instead, I went to my laptop and opened my PayPal account.

To my surprise and disappointment, the cancelled charge was actually there. The PayPal website clearly showed that the charge was cancelled (there was a strike-through line through the total, and it said "cancelled"), but it also said that I should call the same number as provided in the email to delete the charge.

I wasn't sure why I needed to delete a cancelled charge, but I called the number listed on PayPal's website anyway. The gentleman who answered didn't ask for any personal information, account number, password, or anything like that, just the transaction number of the cancelled charge. He directed me to another website with a name something like "account-dispute.com" to remove the charge from my account. Trusting that I was on the phone with a PayPal rep, I entered the link in my browser.

That's when things went to shit. Soon after landing on the site, my screen went to a very sketchy shade of blue (not the Windows "blue screen of death" blue, but a brighter, almost neon, blue) and the words "Program Downloading, Do Not Turn Off Your Computer" appeared on the screen. I asked the "gentleman" on the phone what the hell this was, and he just calmly said, "Don't worry, sir, it's just part of the security system."

Bullshit. I turned the laptop off before the program could complete the download. The "gentleman" hung up on the phone as soon as I stopped the download.

A few minutes later, I turned the laptop back on, and that download screen instantly reappeared. I turned the laptop off again, and waited about an hour. When I tried again, things looked normal and I ran a quick virus scan. But before the scan was done, there was that download screen again. 

Whatever that website had downloaded to my laptop was executing before I could even find the file, much less delete it. I turned the laptop off, unplugged it, and took it to my local PC repair and service shop.  After I brief discussion, we decided the safest thing to do was just completely wipe the hard drive, delete everything, and then re-install Windows 10. I'll lose everything, but after my hard drive crash of 2016, I've learned to keep important things backed up on external hard drives and the cloud. I'll lose some things, sure, but that laptop hasn't been my principal computer since 2020, when I bought a gaming computer that quickly became my primary computer. 

The laptop's still at the shop now, and we're hoping they're done before close of business today (they're closed weekends). I've been checking my PayPal and bank accounts almost hourly for any suspicious activity and changing passwords on everything I can think of in case they were able to get any data off my laptop before I shut it down.

But what really pisses me off is that I called a number listed on PayPal's legit website (the number's still online there) and still wound up in the hands of scammers. To be sure, the fraudulent number is listed under the cancelled charge, and I realize now that the number is part of the charge description written by the scammers, not independently listed elsewhere on the website. 

Be careful out there, folks. The dealers have cards up their sleeves and are dealing from the bottom of the deck.

Billows in Possibility

 

It's amazing after a week of temperatures in the high 90s and heat indices over 100° how cool 91° and relative humidity under 50% can feel. I took my full 5-mile walk today (actually, 5.7 total), even including the shadeless areas  out in the mid-afternoon sun.  

In the evening, I watched Biden's NATO press conference. It's unfortunate that all anyone will be talking about is how, early in the conference, he flubbed his line and referred to "Vice President Trump" instead of "Harris," and no one will be talking about how he got much more coherent and much less prone to gaffes as the hour progressed. He even gave a long and detailed talk about China and foreign affairs in general, correctly name-dropping several Mideast leaders. It was a nuanced and well-informed 10 minutes that one would ever in a hundred years expect to hear from Trump. But no one's diagramming his every sentence to look for errors - not that they don't think there are any (they are legion), but no one cares. Biden said "Trump" when he meant "Harris," the narrative's going, and so now must leave Washington forever and never return.

I'm not saying it's not unfortunate we don't have a younger, more articulate candidate in the race. I'm just recognizing that we don't, and am dealing with it.      

Grain Passage

 

Fun with climate change: Beryl is tracking as predicted and is over Detroit today, with heavy rainfall (2 to 4 inches) expected across portions of the southern Great Lakes, central and northern New York, and northern New England tonight. A few tornadoes are possible today across upstate New York, northern Pennsylvania, and parts of New England.

Meanwhile, a broad trough of low pressure located a few hundred miles off the Georgia coast continues to produce disorganized showers and thunderstorms. Environmental conditions appear only marginally conducive for development of this system into a hurricane over the next couple of days before it moves inland over the Southeast by this weekend.

There are the days that test my resolve to keep my every-other-day walking routine. Yesterday, although the high temperature was only 92°, the mid-afternoon relative humidity was 56%, making it feel like 102°. There were some clouds in the sky, but every time I was between shady stretches, the sun was beating down ferociously. At these temperatures, heat cramps and heat exhaustion are possible, and continued activity could result in heat stroke. I still completed my walk, though (5.1 miles). Seasons change, however, and in a few months I'll be craving some of that warmth, should I survive this summer - that is, if the heat and the hurricanes don't get me first.

Bugling It

 

I forgot to post anything here today. Slipped my mind. 

Today is July 9, the 290th day of the year. The Universal Solar Calendar calls today, Bugling It. I had the Midjourney AI make a picture of the sun girl playing a bugle for this day.

Cognitive capabilities willing, I'll resume blogging tomorrow.

Last Awe of Sentries

I got up this morning (as I usually do), made coffee (as I usually do), and then unplugged my phone from its overnight charge to check for any emails, texts, or whatever (as I usually do). No crises. 

I turned on MSNBC's Morning Joe (as aI often do) for a dose of the television equivalent of doom-scrolling. I think I was as surprised as the hosts were when Joe Biden called in for a lengthy interview/discussion and to insist that he was not dropping out of the race.

Look, I wish there was some other progressive candidate in the race who could challenge and defeat Trump. But with Biden insisting on staying in the lead, and with the delegates needed to win the Democratic Convention all but locked up, any attempt to replace him will be contentious and divisive. Whoever emerges from the Convention other than Biden will not be everyone's choice and will have precious little time before Election Day to consolidate support among Democrats, much less the rest of the electorate. Whoever emerge may not be fully vetted and subject to some "October surprise" that could diminish their chances. And most worryingly of all, these is no candidate, even the most obvious contender, the Vice President, raising their arm and saying, "I'm in. Pick me."

Who would run? Kamala Harris? She's already considered the embodiment of ineptitude by most Republicans, and relatively few Democrats have expressed warm support for the idea of her candidacy. Personally, I like her and firmly believe she could do the job and do it well, but I worry about her electability. Gavin Newsome? Mr. California? The whole race will become a referendum of California's abundant problems, and voters in many states will vote to keep, say, Missouri from becoming "another California." Pete Buttigieg? Hakeem Jeffries? Gretchen Whitmer? Elizabeth Warren? AOC? 

Fine candidates all, and I like them - some for reasons other than the rest - but none are hands-down, slam-dunk favorites to replace Biden in August's convention, and then run a successful campaign in the 70-or-so days between then and Election Day. 

We need to wrap our hears around the reality that the candidate is Joe Biden and then, not only that, get fully behind and support that candidate. Biden, for his part, needs to help us by stop hiding behind press releases and teleprompter speeches and do more candid conversations like today's Morning Joe interview. Stop with the gaslighting ("I had a cold," "I was jet-lagged," "One bad day in June won't decide the election") and help us get behind and support him.

One more thing: I've heard and seen a disgusting amount of ableism and ageism from both sides of the political spectrum regarding Biden. His age isn't the problem, and age isn't a problem. Bernie Sanders is 82 and Elizabeth Warren is 75, and no one's complaining about their age. Shit, Marshall Allen is 100 fucking years old and still blowing the roof off stages with his fiery saxophone playing in the Sun Ra Arkestra. 

Age isn't the problem - the rightful concern is potential dementia. Age isn't the problem - but holding on to outmoded ideas and solutions could be. Age isn't the problem - but health and longevity are rightful concerns. To say Biden is "too old," is like saying Obama was "too black" or Hillary "too female." Criticize any of the candidates all you want for their policies but race, gender - and age - are not their liabilities. Stop with the goddamn ageism, already!!

Tremendous and Shear

Panic in the morning: I got up (as I usually do), made coffee (as I usually do), and then unplugged my phone from its overnight charge to check for any emails, texts, or whatever (as I usually do). The phone was dead - wouldn't start up, just a black screen. I plugged the phone back into its charger to make sure it had power, and the screen still remained black. Nothing. The phone was dead.

I went on line for advise on what to do, but the internet was not very helpful, just instructions on "how to turn on your iPhone." If that didn't work, they said to get in touch with Apple Support, but how do you do that if the phone's not working?

Old men and technology - it's been drummed into our heads that we can't figure this stuff out, and the snarky "user error" claims just reinforces that anxiety. 

The dead phone made me realize how dependent I've become on that slab of tech. How do I reach out to the world? Why take my routine walk if my phone isn't recording and tracking my miles? What's the weather going to be like? I resolved that the first thing I had to do today was go to the Verizon store to buy a new phone.

But just by dumb luck, I plugged the phone back in one more time and pushed the cord extra hard into the charger slot, and a dim "battery charging" icon appeared. It was all the way down to "no charge," but I gave it some time and it finally did recharge. Crisis averted.      

  

With my phone and its pedometer app now working, I took my 5-mile walk today, the 52nd consecutive every-other-day walk since Big Ears. For those of you keeping score at home, my phone shows that I've walked a total of 333 miles, or the straight-line distance from here to Memphis, Tennessee. Along the way, I also dropped 25 pounds (my phone is also connected to my blue-tooth enabled bathroom scale).

Every revised forecast for Hurricane Beryl on the phone's weather app has it tracking more and more to the north-northeast and further from Georgia. At this point, Detroit is more in line with the storm than Atlanta.

Last week, I finally finished playing Horizon: Forbidden West and last night I finished the Burning Shores DLC.   According to Steam, I've played 293.6 hours, the 7th most of any game (and the most hours of any single play-through). 

Panic in the afternoon: after writing the paragraph above, I checked my Epic Game Launcher to see how my 293.6 hours compared to the games I own not on Steam, but on the Epic app. But on logging in, all of my games were gone. My Library was empty. Where did all my purchases go? 

Again, the web wasn't helpful. On-line advise was to check Settings and make sure "Hide My Library" wasn't checked (it wasn't), and after that, restart everything (done, to no success). Finally, it said that maybe I had refunded the games or the games were time-limited releases and other unhelpful, asshole suggestions.

Old men and technology, Chapter Two: Can the old boomer recover his Epic game purchases?  

I remembered that I had a backup copy of the Epic Game Launcher on my laptop computer (I was on my gaming computer). I opened it up on the laptop, and all my old games were still there. Whew. I checked all the settings and log-in information carefully, and saw that although the User name and password were the same on both versions of the launcher, they were linked to different email addresses (I've got a few). I switched the email address on the empty version to the one on my laptop and, voila!, the games reappeared.  The old man found his purchases!  

It's Sunday. I'm not going to do any more technology tasks, for fun or for profit, until tomorrow, as my track record today seems cursed.

Which Past Was Hers

Hurricane Beryl is now over the Gulf of Mexico and is expected to increase in intensity as it crosses the warm water. The storm has taken a track more to the north than previously observed, and is now forecast to make landfall somewhere on the Texas coast between Houston and Corpus Christi instead of the southenmost tip of Texas.

After making landfall, current projections show the storm tracking toward the northeast, crossing the Mississippi near New Madrid, Missouri.  That trajectory would miss Atlanta, but those storm-track projections are always subject to change.

Earlier this morning, I head the unmistakable sound of a tree falling - the cracking of wood accompanied by the thrashing of leaves and branches. Didn't hear the final "thump" as it hit the ground, though. I was surprised that the power stayed on (falling trees around here usually tend to hit power lines), and I drove around the neighborhood but didn't see any fallen tree. This will be another one of life's many mysteries - if a falling tree makes a sound but no one sees it fall. . .    

Apparent Doorways

The Fifth of July. Almost the working definition of "anticlimax." The day after the big celebration, when the fireworks and cookouts are over and all that remains are ashes, spent casings, trash, and the acrid smell of gunpowder still lingers in the air. 

Hurricane Beryl, after crossing over the Leeward Islands of Grenada and St. Vincent & the Grenadines, traveled west-northwest across the Caribbean, passing just south of Jamaica and the Caymans. It has made landfall on the Yucatan Peninsula, where it resides right now. 

The storm is expected to regain strength as it crosses the Yucatan and emerges over the Gulf of Mexico.  It is expected to make landfall on the southernmost tip of Texas and then travel north toward Austin and then northeast toward College Station, because nobody, not even the Gods of Weather, like Texas A&M. 

It's unclear how much strength the storm will have after that or where it will go next. My fatalistic assumption is that it will keep going northeast and beeline right for Atlanta, Georgia, where it will drop many, many inches of rain and large trees right onto my house. 

Of course, I could be wrong.   

Vibrant Threshold

 

Happy Independence Day, or as the Universal Solar Calendar calls it, Vibrant Threshold. Reminder that on July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence claimed, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.” America was founded on the radical idea that all men are created equal.

Four score and seven years later, Abraham Lincoln said, “our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” 

The men who signed the Declaration of Independence pledged their lives, fortune and honor to defend the idea of human equality. Lincoln reminded Americans of those sacrifices when he wished “that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

The corrupt Supreme Court has turned its traitorous back on the Founding Fathers and on Lincoln. 

Each Note Felt

 

Almost anything else seems besides the point and not worth mentioning. Hurricane Beryl? Climate change? My health? Exercise and diet? Trivia, all. There's been a bloodless (so far) coup and America's been taken over by an extremist, far-right, junta of Christian Nationalist judges, and that's all that is worth talking about. 

Okay, maybe we could talk about the opposition. Ever since Joe Biden's pitiful, halting, forgetful (but not forgettable) performance in last week's debate, he has made no public appearances other than a few carefully stage, scripted appearances at a rally and a news briefing. No press conferences, no interviews, no televised appearances on t.v. assuring an anxious public that he's alright. Just gaslighting and talking points by White House apparatchiks saying the debate wasn't that big a deal.

In politics, its often said that it's not the crime, its the coverup that matters. I was dismayed but still on board with Biden the Friday morning after the debate. But as day after day passed and the White House kept Joe hidden from the public, I lost faith.

To me it's clear what needs to happen. One role of the Vice-President, the major role it can be argued, is to fill in and replace the President in the event of a catastrophe. If it were a bullet or a stroke that hit Biden, VP Harris would automatically become President (unless the extremist, far-right, cabal of Christian Nationalist judges decides that the 25th Amendment doesn't apply to Democrats in election years, and awards the presidency to Trump). But if whatever combination of old age, absent-mindedness, dementia, and forgetfulness plagues Biden makes him incapable of running for President, the V.P. needs to step up and assume the candidacy.

Kamala Harris would bring a lot to the table. She's been Veep for almost four years now and can claim at least partial credit for all of the Biden Administration's many achievements. As a woman, she can credibly champion the case for reproductive rights, bodily autonomy, and establishment of Roe v. Wade as national law. She's smart, quick-witted, and as a former prosecutor, aggressive enough to take the fight to Trump in ways that Biden couldn't, or wouldn't. Or, at least, didn't. 

What would be a disaster would be to spend more time dithering, and then decide to hold a political beauty contest at the Convention, only to emerge with some midwestern state politico that no one actively dislikes but doesn't bring a lot to the table electorally. Save that for choosing Harris' running mate.

Kamala needs to sit Joe down, explain to him that he may still feel like he could beat Trump, but the voters no longer have confidence in him, and that for the good of the country that he loves, he needs to make the hard choice and step down. 

It may already be too late and the fix already in on the 2024 election, but it's our only shot and we should at least go down swinging.

Pacing and the Unshed

 

It's a coup. The United States of America has been taken over by a radical extremist right-wing junta of six activist judges, half of whom were appointed by the worst, most rotten president in U.S. history with the willing assistance of the Senate's Moscow Mitch. 

The court was already leaning far to the right with Citizens United, allowing almost unlimited corporate money for political campaigns, and the repeal of the Voting Rights Act. But with the appointments of Anne Gorsuch's son, Keg-Stand Kavanaugh, and the handmaiden Amy Bony Carrot, any and all restraints were removed. They reversed Roe v. Wade, narrowed the scope of the federal bribery laws, affirmed the right to discriminate against gays, approved gerrymandering, and denied student-loan forgiveness while still allowing subsidies to big oil and other industries. 

And for the finale, to complete the coup and give themselves absolute power, they made it harder to charge January 6 defendants with obstruction, overturned Chevron and ruled that the justices, not government agencies, can interpret Congressional acts to set standards and enforce regulations. Then they ruled that the President has absolute immunity for official acts, and they are the only ones to determine what's official and what's not.

Does anyone honestly believe that they wouldn't rule that Trump paying off a porn star is an official act, but that Biden implementing immigration reform isn't?  

The six right-wing justices have basically neutered Congress and set themselves up to oversee the Executive Branch. The President is no longer the most powerful person in the world, or even the country. The six justices are. 

Like this country's Founding Fathers, I bow to no king, and I will not bend the knee to this court or its manufactured chief executive. I do not recognize their legitimacy or their authority. On this matter, I do not think, or speak, or write with moderation. I am in earnest, I will not equivocate, I will not excuse, I will not retreat a single inch, and I will be heard.  

Day of Fallacies

Hurricane Beryl, a Category 4 event and the second named storm of the 2024 hurricane season, has hit Grenada and Barbados and is heading west into the Caribbean en route to Jamaica and the Yucatan. Where it goes after that is anyone's guess. Meanwhile, Tropical Storm Chris, the second named storm of the season, made landfall in southern Mexico this morning and then dissipated later in the day.

The frequency and number of hurricanes may not be a direct result of climate change, but the increased intensity of the storms is. The EPA should be able to do what it can to limit the release of CO₂, but the Clean Air Act didn't specifically identify CO₂ as a "pollutant," and with the overturning of the so-called Chevron deference last weeks by the Supreme Cunt, it's just a matter of time (weeks probably) before the power companies and oil lobbyists sue and get any attempt to regulate CO₂ declared "unconstitutional," because who knows better how to regulate the environment, climate scientists or judges? 

Speaking of global warming, I completed my 5-mile walk today. By the time I finished, it was 95° outside, but with the humidity, it felt like 101°. But perseverance over perspiration - it was my 48th day walking since Big Ears in late March.

The Supreme Cunt is doing everything it can to destroy America, and today it just might have succeeded. After a long string of abysmal, misguided decisions like Citizens United and reversing Roe v. Wade, after overturning Chevron and striking down the EPA's Good Neighbor rule which regulated smokestack emissions based on effects of downwind states (apparently, if West Virginia can't rip a fart in Maryland's face, is there any freedom left?), after ruling that paying off legislators after the fact is a legal "gratuity" and not a "bribe," and deciding that the January 6 rioters can't be charged for obstructing a proceeding of Congress because of "reasons," they topped themselves today, the last day of the current session.

As many people feared, today they ruled that the President of the United States has "absolute immunity" from criminal prosecution for official acts of the presidency, and "presumed immunity" over a  broader range of other activities. 

When we hold one person above the law, that effectively makes him a king (or her a queen). We have entered a new, Second Chapter in the history of America. “The court effectively creates a law-free zone around the president, upsetting the status quo that has existed since the founding,” Justice Sonia Sotomayor wrote in a dissenting opinion, joined by Justices Elena Kagan and Ketanji Brown Jackson.

Insulating the president of the United States, the most powerful person in the country and possibly the world, from criminal prosecution when he uses his official powers will allow him to freely use his official power to violate the law, exploit the trappings of his office for personal gain, or other evil ends.

“Orders the Navy’s Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune," Sotomayor wrote. "Organizes a military coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon? Immune. Immune, immune, immune.” She added, “Even if these nightmare scenarios never play out, and I pray they never do, the damage has been done. The relationship between the president and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably."

Back on May 31, after Trump was found guilty on 34 counts of felony, I predicted that Lindsey Graham (the South Carolina Senator who tried to have my Georgia vote nullified) would say something asinine about the verdict. Well, sure enough, Sunday he told CNN that, “The Democrats keep calling President Trump a felon. Well, be careful what you wish for. I expect there will be an investigation of Biden’s criminality at the border.” Well, the joke's on you, Lindsey. Biden's actions at the border were official acts of his presidency and therefore enjoy "absolute immunity" from criminal prosecution according to your buddies on the Supreme Cunt. How does that taste, Lindsey?   

This Supreme Cunt has put more power into the hands of a single person, the President, than ever before, while also making it harder for the people to vote for that all-powerful ruler. They also grabbed a big chunk of power for themselves, and left Congress, arguably the most representative chamber of government, with far less power than ever.  

We're doomed. This grand experiment in representative democracy - government for the people, by the people - is over. Our government no longer derives its just powers from the consent of the governed. This goes way beyond owning the libs - this is indeed the last and greatest betrayal of the last and greatest of human dreams.