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The Night America Turned 250 and Lost Its Mind

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  It was a surreal spectacle. After a blistering‑hot day, a line of strong thunderstorms with “destructive winds” — as the NWS so helpfully phrased it — blew into my area. Before I could even call for Auntie Em, gusts topping 80 miles per hour ripped through the neighborhood, blowing through the house like a poltergeist as curtains snapped and light décor scattered. Worse, the winds caught my large deck umbrella like a sail and took it — along with the glass‑topped table it was attached to — flinging the whole thing onto its side and into the still‑smoldering charcoal grill, risking a fire. In a matter of seconds, my calm Fourth of July evening had become Bedlam. After I closed my slack jaw, I immediately ran onto the deck to save the table and avert a possible fire. As I stepped outside, I was buffeted by impossibly strong gusts of wind that made the tall oaks on my property dance like tortured spirits in the night. Adding to the end‑of‑the‑world vibe were loud cracks of thunder, ...
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A Shadow That Can Only Mock

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And I am back! I wasn’t gone that long, but somewhere along the line I got addicted to these late‑afternoon blogging sessions, and any absence longer than a week feels like a small eternity. Part of the break was my seasonal affective disorder acting up — the garish summer sun loves to inflict cluster headaches on me. (Long‑time readers know my feelings about summer. Don’t worry, that rant is coming.) But I was also waiting for my new laptop. Believe it or not, I’ve been doing all my blogging on a seven-year-old  Chromebook . A pre‑COVID Chromebook , mind you, back when they had the processing power of a determined potato and a three‑year expiration date before Google cut off updates. The fact that I coaxed it into lasting more than twice its intended lifespan is a minor miracle — one that required creativity, alternative apps, and the patience of a monk as I waited for my keystrokes to appear a full second or two after I typed them. What can I say? I’m loyal to my tech and aller...
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In Defeat: Acceptance

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It must be hard to be a Trump voter these days. Consider your track record: You voted for a felon to become richer, and now you are poorer You voted for an insurrectionist to "own the libs", and now the right-wing has never been weaker You voted for a draft dodger to make America stronger, and now the nation has lost a war in a little over one hundred days But, hey, who needs fancy book learnin', right?  What do experts in foreign policy know that a corn-shucker in Iowa doesn't? Isn't that right?  You damn fools. You mouth-breathing, reality TV-addicted, cage-match cheering rubes.  What have you done... 💀💀💀💀💀  When I wrote in a previous blog post that 'Unconditional Surrender' Trump had surrendered , I didn't expect that to be literally true! What I was anticipating was Trump slinking away with his tail between his legs by agreeing to some nebulous ceasefire terms that never progress beyond the discussion phase, with Trump declaring victory despit...
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It's Over...And Not Just the War

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  Just a quick post today, so I'll let the front page of the New Zork Times speak for itself. The übermensch Donald Trump has officially thrown in the towel on a war he launched alongside Israel, one begun with unclear goals, sustained with no plan, and ultimately, predictably, lost after a brief 108-day campaign. The only thing achieved was global chaos and regional instability.  Never forget this, because you are living through history. America the great, America the 'Hooah!' mighty, has lost a war to a mid-tier regional power—and did it in record time. Once upon a time, it took Washington at least a decade to retreat from a conflict. No longer! Under the stunning leadership of the Epstein-class and a manly-man 'Secretary of WAAARRRRRR!!', the world's last superpower has finally earned the right to book a room for one of its presidents at The Fletcher Memorial Home for Incurable Tyrants and Kings, and with that booking, retreat into global retirement. And be ...
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The Summer Doldrums Before Summer

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  I had fun writing my recent post about why Bethesda's Starfield  was getting mixed reviews despite being an objectively good, if not great, game.  It was enjoyable to get away from the poisonous politics of the MAGA era.  So enjoyable that, truth be told, I am finding it difficult to return to political blogging.  Part of the reason is that the Trump regime has slipped into a pattern reminiscent of the quiet summer months, when large parts of the US government, as well as the American people, are out on vacation, resulting in a slow news cycle.  That is the vibe I am getting now. It is like the government has slipped into the summer doldrums before the summer has arrived! 😴😴😴😴😴  I believe a big reason why the Trump regime has suddenly become "low energy" is because they are on one heck of a losing streak.  Perhaps this can best be symbolized by Trump's mortifying visit to Madison Square Garden for Game 3 of the NBA Finals.  Standing in...
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Tilting at Starships: Starfield and the Knights of the Sorrowful Face

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  Eddie Muller, the "Czar of Noir", once opined that peak American culture occurred in the 1950s.  For all the failings of America during those early post-war years, it is hard to argue with that take. Not only was it the latter portion of the "Golden Era" for Hollywood, but it was also considered a golden era for science fiction. It was during this time that such greats as Ray Bradbury, Robert A. Heinlein, Alfred Bester, and the visionary editors of Galaxy Magazine,  who pushed the genre toward psychological and sociological storytelling, came into their own.  Even radio, the then-dominant entertainment format, got in on the sci-fi act with such wonderful programs as X Minus One and Exploring Tomorrow .  You can still listen to many of them today . These radio series can be an excellent ‘deep core’ survey of the genre, covering tonally diverse classics from Tom Godwin’s heartbreaking hard‑sci‑fi tale The Cold Equations to Robert Sheckley’s lighter, satirical T...
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Voting for the Devil

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  As a student of history and political philosophy, I've always known that America's role as the global good guy would, like all things, eventually come to an end.  When it did occur, I envisioned an America that had fallen into the clutches of a super-villain, a Julian Felsenburgh-type character: intelligent, accomplished, charismatic, and, of course, possessing a satanic evil secreted beneath those virtues. What I did not imagine was that America, in fact, would fall to the complete opposite: a man whose only noticeable accomplishment was squandering the wealth he had inherited from his father, whose evil was a bragging point and whose virtues were nonexistent.  Of course, I am referring to Donald Trump, a man who has infamously bragged about sexually assaulting women and getting away with it, who is a convicted felon for bribing a porn star to keep quiet about their extra-marital affair, and a man who led a televised violent insurrection against the US government so he...
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