The Long Dim Under, 38th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Castor): I didn't die last night in a global thermonuclear war and I bet you didn't either. We can be grateful for that much at least.

Shortly after completing yesterday's post, I saw the news online, Stable Genius Announces Two-Week Ceasefire in Iran. Of course he did. TACO. It was all just more bluster and bravado.

But the bluster and bravado were literally terroristic threats to "wipe out" an entire civilization, "never to return." "Bomb them back to the stone ages." Irresponsible and reckless rhetoric from the so-called leader of the so-called free world, the man with the nuclear launch codes at his bruised and short fingertips.

Is the crisis over? No. Israel's already resumed bombing Lebanon, because that's what they do, and Iran is still throttling traffic in the Strait of Hormuz. But most significantly, a mentally incompetent, narcissistic despot is still in the Oval Office, and the world won't be able to even start working our way back toward anything even resembling normalcy until he's, well, no longer breathing. That's not a threat. It's just an observation that peace is apparently incompatible  with his existence.

The same regime still controls Iran, except now they're both more hardline, and, oh, we just killed their father, brothers and sisters, cousins, nieces and nephews. They still have enriched uranium, but now more motivation that ever to develop a bomb. The flow of some 20% of the world's oil is still under their control. And we're alienated our allies, gave Russia a financial lifeline, and emboldened China to seize territory they see fit to take.

And don't even get me started on climate change, the gutting of environmental safeguards, economic inequality, and making racism acceptable again.

I'm not happy withthis world and things are only going to get worse.            

 

The Quiet Turf, 37th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Betelgeuse): Not to sound overdramatic, but I am traumatized by recent news. A madman, a person truly unwell mentally, has his finger on the nuclear button and is loudly proclaiming his intention to use it. At 8:00 pm tonight.

I've seen this movie. It doesn't end well. 

I'm a boomer who literally had to do the duck-and-cover drills beneath my desk to defend against a nuclear attack. I remember neighbors building fallout shelters in their backyards, and my teachers made sure that we children knew where the school's shelter was and how to get there. 

I was eight years old during the Cuban missile crisis although I didn't really understand the situation at the time. But as my young mind tried to grasp the adult world of current affairs and the grim tones used during the evening news, it began to dawn on me that a thermonuclear war was the most likely demise not only of myself, but the whole rest of the world as well. 

I watched and was terrified by movies like Seven Days in May, Fail Safe, and Dr. Strangelove. Post-nuclear dystopias were a cliche in my comic books and monster movies. And then there were those weird gore-porn agitprop movies we were forced to watch at school for some reason that graphically imagined what life would be like after a nuclear attack. 

Basically, I realized at an early age that I would most likely either be instantly vaporized in a nuclear blast (if I were lucky), or painfully burn to death if I was a little further from ground zero at the time of impact, or (worst of all) survive the attack only to succumb to radiation sickness from the fallout, or starvation, or post-apocalyptic violence. 

All this before I was even 12. I basically lived with that low-level existential dread all through high school and college, and as the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. lurched from one crisis to the next, world politics resembled that last scene in Reservoir Dogs where everyone's pointing guns at every one else, barking warnings and orders until one gun finally fires and then everyone starts shooting.

Then, a miracle apparently happened. In 1989, the Berlin Wall came down, the U.S.S.R., our existential enemy, dissolved, and suddenly, it seemed like maybe global nuclear annihilation wasn't so inevitable after all. 

Oh, we were so naive beck in the 1990s. Yes, the U.S.S.R. was gone, but it didn't take long for new threats to emerge and new wars started, and while politics might have been less tense than at the height of the Cold War, the nuclear option wasn't off the table.

Now, the Stable Genius, an increasingly unhinged and erratic person, is vowing that he will completely destroy the nation of Iran unless they concede to all of his demands by 8:00 pm today, something they seem unwilling and unlikely to do. He hasn't used the word "nuclear," but his threats of wiping out a "whole civilization" with force "unlike anything ever seen before" more than hints at nuclear weaponry. 

He wanted to use nukes on North Korea during his first term, but he had guardrails around him back then to dissuade him. Hell, he even talked about nuking a hurricane back then. The guardrails are not only gone now, but his black-out drunk Secretary of Defense, a former Fox & Friends weekend host, clearly sees the Iranian conflict in Biblical terms, and I'm sure he's leafing through the Book of Revelations looking for clues to convince himself that he's fulfilling some sort of prophesy. 

The Stable Genius is clearly unwell mentally, he's surrounded himself with crackpots, sycophants, and maniacs, and he has the authority to call for the nuclear annihilation of anther country if it so pleases him.

If he does "go nuclear," I doubt it will immediately trigger a global apocalypse a la World War III, with Russia, the U.S., and China all firing ICBMs at each other. But it would still be catastrophic, politically, strategically, and ecologically. Once the seal is broken and nukes, even so-called "tactical nuclear weapons," are used in combat, no nation could be sure any longer that the U.S. or any other nation won't go nuclear again, and will act accordingly in the interest of their own self preservation. Russia will use a nuke in Ukraine, China in Taiwan, and North Korea any random place just to show they're capable, too.  

In many ways, that would be worse that the WWIII scenario. Remember the three ways I imagined I would die - either instantly vaporized at ground zero, painfully burn to death, or (worst of all) radiation sickness, starvation, or mass violence? The Stable Genius is putting us on course for option three.

Even if nothing happens, we still have nearly three more years of this madness to look forward too. If he chooses not to nuke Iran, will he restrain himself during the next crisis? Will he go nuclear over Greenland and attack Denmark? Or NATO? Are Chicago and San Francisco exempt from his anger?

A malignant narcissist with a messianic complex, the attention span of a toddler, and no self-control has the launch codes, and all we can do is watch the news and hope for the least bad outcome. 

I always knew this would eventually happen.

 

Day of the Tower, 36th of Spring, 526 M.E. (Aldebaran): They're so stupid, they're so unbelievably fucking stupid, they believe they can make the American people forget that the undeclared war in Iran was not legally authorized by Congress, has little popular support, and is costing $1B a day, by spinning some sort of Saving Private Ryan story about the rescue of two downed airmen, without mentioning they they're the ones who put the airmen in harm's way in the first place.

The black-out drunk Secretary of Defense even made a religious analogy, pointing out the airmen were shot down on Good Friday, were missing in action of Saturday, and then resurrected (under his direction) on Easter Sunday.

I'm glad the airmen were rescued, not only because of human lives but also because the situation would have become immeasurably worse if they had been captured. The story is not about the skillful rescue of a couple brave pilots, it's about international war crimes, it's about the lawless and reckless actions of a senile, demented president, it's about the colossal waste of money and staggering carbon footprint of an obscene and illegal war.

The real story is what led to the surprise and unannounced decision to initiate the bombing. Distraction from the most recent and disturbingly lurid revelations in the Epstein files? Ask yourself who profits the most by this action. Israel and Saudi Arabia were Iran's biggest rivals in the region, and Bibi Netanyahu has long had the Stable Genius wrapped around his finger, and the U.S.'s chief negotiator prior to the bombing, Jared Kushner, has received a $2B business "loan" from the Saudis. And Russia is probably the biggest beneficiary of the war, as the sanctions against their oil exports have been lifted to partially offset the restricted flow through the Persian Gulf, renewing Russia's ability to finance their reprehensible war in Ukraine. One would almost suspect that the Stable Genius authorized the bombing to please Bibi, MBS, and Putin. Distraction from the Epstein files was just a side benefit.      

But let's not talk about that. Remember Saving Private Ryan?

 

Cryptic Tailgate of the Mourners, 35th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Helios):  Easter. The son has died and now the father can be born. 

All the right-wing pundits and agitators who keep screaming about an alleged "War on Christmas" don't seem to imagine a war on Easter, although from what I see, Easter is much less celebrated than Christmas, even though it seems like it's the more foundational Christian holiday. Virgin-birth mythology aside, the extraordinary thing about Jesus wasn't his birth but his supposed resurrection, but they seem willing to let observation of the latter slide while getting quite defensive if you're not as enthusiastic about the former as they deem appropriate. The cynic in me wonders if the reason isn't theological but monetary - it's harder to capitalize on Easter than Christmas.

As a child, Christmas was the greatest holiday of the year. My parents generously lavished their children with gifts and it was our major annual acquisition event. Christmas was when we got the toys to last us for the next year and clothes for the rest of the winter and hopefully the spring. Our material status rose or fell based on our haul on Christmas morning.  

Easter, on the other hand, had candy, which was cool, but it also had hard-boiled eggs which were kind of gross, and it also meant dressing up in uncomfortable clothes and sitting through a particularly crowded and stuffy church service. It also meant a blood-sugar crash sometime later in the day, and a realization that jelly beans and Peeps were our least favorite candies. Confection-wise, Easter couldn't hold a candle to Halloween.

Christmas smelled like evergreens and pies. Easter smelled like the vinegar used to dye the eggs. Also, pictures at Sears with the Easter Bunny were far more terrifying than pictures with Santa. 

Christmas was joyous and celebratory. Easter was something to be endured.

 

The Remnants of Bela, 34th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Electra): We're in the in-between season here in Atlanta. In between heating and air conditioning. It's warm enough to not need the heat, but cool enough not to crank up the AC. Warm enough to peel the comforter and heavy blanket off the bed, too cool to sleep under just a sheet.

Without the heat or AC running, the air in the house in still and calm. When I light a stick of incense during meditation, the smoke trails straight up toward the ceiling in a solid gray column. No dispersion, no chaotic eddies of curling smoke. A single straight column, like smoke from a campfire in the deep forest in a Maxfield Parrish painting. It's a beautiful sight, although looking at it after meditating, the calm mind is more inclined than usual to find beauty in the mundane and simple. 

As I slowly walk around the room between sitting periods, my motion disturbs the air and the smoke sinuously bends and snakes. I can even see it respond as I slowly approach and the mass of my body bulldozes the air in front of me. When I'm very close, the smoke is as chaotic and eddified as when the heat or AC is running. I don't see the column as I walk away as it's now behind me, but when I turn a corner, I notice it's returning to the straight gray column of before.

There's no metaphor here, no lesson to be learned. It is what it is. The weather's pleasantly mild, smoke rises, your humble narrator observes and finds joy in the simple physics. 

The end.

 

Day of Sargasso, 33rd of Spring, 526 M.E. (Deneb): We're in another inscrutable and senseless war for some reason of another, the economy's gone to shit, no one believes there will be free and fair elections this November, the climate's gone haywire, and, not unrelated, the most incompetent, irresponsible, and inappropriate people imaginable are running the government, but whitey's back on the moon.

Day of Kalimantan, 32nd of Spring, 526 M.E. (Castor): I have two minds. I only have one brain (of course), but at least two minds exist within that brain. Maybe more.

When I sit in meditation, thoughts naturally arise. I don't try to control them or direct them, nor do I try to stop or stifle them. I just observe them and let them wander freely as I observe.

But if I'm observing my thoughts, then my thoughts aren't me. Who's thinking those thoughts and who's observing them? And as you might guess, as I realize that there's a separate observer, I realize that there's also a mind that's observing the observer that's observing the thoughts. But I've never been able to hold all three in my mind at the same time: the thinker, the observer, and the observer of the observer. Once I become aware of the observer of the observer, the original thoughts seem to vanish as if into thin air. I can't tell if its like a hall of mirrors with an infinite number of reflections of reflections, or if I'm just switching back and forth between dual states - the observer and the observed. 

First there's the original thinker, the observer of thoughts. Then there's the observer of the observer. Is the observer of the observer of the observer the original thinker again, or some third state of mind? Is there an infinite progression of observers, or is it a cycle, or is it like a magnet switching between two polarities?

I don't know.

Today, the Stable Genius fired his Attorney General, the dishonest and duplicitous Pam Bondi. Last month, he fired his Secretary of Homeland Security, the puppy killer Kristi Noem. Bondi and Noem, while contemptible, or no worse than their replacements, Todd Blanche and Markwayne Mullen, or our black-out drunk Secretary of Defense or our grifting Director of the FBI. Why is it the Stable Genius only fires the women in his administration? 

I don't know.

Day of Niagara, 31st of Spring, 526 M.E. (Betelgeuse): Asian countries, including China and India, are stepping up their usage of coal to make up part of the loss of oil coming through the Strait of Hormuz, adding to the war's already staggering carbon footprint. The Stable Genius announced that he's "seriously considering" pulling the U.S. out of NATO, giving Putin the gift he's wanted for decades. The Stable Genius also eased up on the oil sanctions imposed on Russia, another gift, and allowed a Russian tanker to deliver oil through the embargo that had been placed on Cuba. The umpire in last night's Red Sox-Astros game lost count of balls and strikes, and allowed a Houston batter to continue at the plate even after his third swinging strike. 

The world's going to hell along at least a dozen doomsday scenarios. I try to imagine the world five years from now and don't see many scenarios where things aren't apocalyptically bad. I have maybe 10 years left of life, probably no more than five good ones, so my losses will be somewhat minimized, but it's the children I feel sorry for. 

No future, indeed.

 

Plaint of the Host, 30th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Aldebaran): Aldebaran is the first of the six-day week in the New Revised USC, the equivalent to a Monday in the Julian calendar. As I had traveled back from Knoxville and Big Ears yesterday and this is my first full day back home, today feels like a Monday to me. Fitting it's Aldebaran.

I sat today for the first time since the Fourth Day of the Zenith, the 22nd of Spring. I was too busy to sit during the festival - hell, most days I was too busy to eat or sleep, much less sit. Knowing a gap was coming up in my schedule, I allowed myself to also miss sitting on the day before I left, so I could complete some chores like laundry, shopping, packing, etc., so today was my first time sitting in nine days.

It was worse last year. My records show that in 2025 I missed 12 days around the Big Ears festival, and after resuming sitting twice, I missed another two weeks for some reason or another before I got back in the rhythm of sitting every other day again. That gap in last year's schedule is a stark reminder of the need for vigilance to maintain my practice. 

Axios reports that the oil shortage triggered by the Iran war will spread globally in a slow-motion crisis, much like the covids did five years ago. The shock will unfold sequentially rather than simultaneously, a rolling supply disruption moving westward, dictated by shipping times and buffered unevenly by regional inventories. Asia is feeling the pain of lost supply now, but the pain is still muted elsewhere.

The average gas price in the U.S. is $4.02 today, up from $3.06 in January and a preview of the pain to come. Prices could get high enough to force people and companies to stop using oil, eventually taking cars and trucks off the road, ships off the sea, and planes out of the sky.

In his post-apocalyptic, post-peak World Made by Hand novels, James Howard Kunstler imagines the downfall of society and the modern world begins with severe disruptions to the global supply chain. In the novels, the disruption is started by a terroristic act on a container vessel, but in the reality we're all living through now, the disruption is predicated by the Stable Genius' terrorism in Iran and followed by Iran's blockage of the Strait of Hormuz, which could eventually collapse the entire global supply chain.

As you might guess, things don't go well for the world in the novels.

 

The Topaz Glove, 29th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Helios): I'm back from Big Ears, exhausted but happy for all the great music I heard. I only got about five hours of sleep each night since Thursday, so I'm quite exhausted now.  It was tiring, but worth it.

However, please be patient and give me one more day before I resume the usual posting. Thank you for your kindness. 

 

Day of the Ascendant, 28th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Helios): Last day of Big Ears 2026. I actually wrote and posted this several days ago and post-dated it for today, so for all we know I may have ascended myself by now, carried off to the celestial heavens on open-form improvisational music. I may be sleeping off a bender along the railroad tracks under the Gay Street bridge or I may have turned my car around on the way up for some inexplicable reason and never arrived up here. Who knows? I sure as shit don't.

But if all's gone according to plan, today I'm taking in the final day of the 2026 Big Ears festival and will head back home tomorrow, when "normal" (whatever that is) posting will resume.   

 

The Overheard Rites, 27th Day of Spring, 526 M.E. (Deneb): The Third Day of Big Ears in one possible version of the New Revised Universal Solar Calendar. If I had more time, I might be tempted to write something about all the rites I've been overhearing at the festival this year, but that would be forced and corny so it's probably just as well I don't have the time.  

It's also No Kings Day here in the United States. Find a local protest and get out there are be heard.