Taxpayers Fund Pathetic Big Brother
According to several news agencies yesterday, an ad promoting Trump began airing this week. It says it was paid for by the government, despite a law banning taxpayer funds being used for propaganda.
I find Trump vulgar. I find his AI productions of himself as Jesus, as himself in a military uniform (applying honors to himself which he never earned), and his glowering portraits from public buildings inappropriate. Pathetic. Distasteful.
I find his fripperies and vanity projects disgusting. The man has no taste. He is erecting monuments to himself. He would destroy the Kennedy Center because he is jealous – he wrecked it.
I’m careful with my money. What offends me the most is that I am not reluctant to pay taxes; we earned government salaries, we respect the need for a government to provide services, and that good citizens pay their fair taxes. I object to paying for self-glorification, or “love-me” ads. I believe this is illegal – just as I believe our fight in Iran is illegal, was not discussed with Congress, and that the citizens paying for this war should be given accurate information, such as the tolls taken on our servicemen and women and on our installations during this war.
Why do we continue to let this fraudster operate with impunity?
He dares to put his face on the corrupts Justice Department, filling it with loyalists who submit to Trump’s policy of vengeance against his perceived enemies – those who would disagree with him.
He puts his face on the Labor Department, at a time when mortgages are once again hitting an all time high, inflation is hitting food and gas prices, and our young people cannot find jobs nor buy houses.
His vanity knows no boundaries. His ignorance is wrecking our economy. His vulgarity shreds our efforts at civility. His greed takes the food out of the mouths of the hungry, and medical care out of the hands of the sick and dying. He refuses to disperse funds already allocated to the powerless. He sells off our National Parklands, or leases off lands, for commercial exploitation, and invalidates environmental rules put into place to keep our food, water, and emergency systems in place.
In the previous entry in this blog, we see Trump and Melania glaring suspiciously at the camera, and the President of China looking at Trump with a look that appears to be pity.
Pity instead the poor taxpayers, footing the bill for this monstrous, vain, big baby.
Poof! Environmental Protections Gone!
From this mornings 1440.com:
| Pollution Limits Lifted |
| The US Environmental Protection Agency yesterday said it is repealing limits on planet-warming pollution from coal- and natural gas-fired power plants, a sector that generates about 25% of all US climate pollution. The rollback follows previous moves by the Trump administration to eliminate or weaken policies aimed at restricting planet-warming chemicals and gases. The EPA says revoking the power plant regulations will save the industry over $300B and lower Americans’ energy bills. Environmental groups contend that rolling back the pollution limits could threaten tens of thousands of lives and exacerbate the impacts of climate-related natural disasters. The proposal is expected to face legal challenges, but if upheld in court, the rule could prevent future administrations from regulating power plants’ greenhouse gas emissions. If the US power sector were a country, its pollution production would rank fifth globally—behind only China, the entire US, India, and Russia (see greenhouse gas emissions on this globe). |
Greed wins. Science loses.
All the years of careful bi-partisan crafting of legislation to protect our air, protect our water, protect our medical advances, protect our food supply destroyed by this wrecking ball of an administration.
Intlxpatr Turns Twenty Years!
Welcome to our virtual celebration, old friends and new.
Twenty years ago on this very day, newly arrived in Kuwait, I joined a very lively, edgy and welcoming blogging scene. It was frightening to me, but I had my reasons. There were bloggers I loved reading – I started by commenting on their posts. It was like a salon, topics and views and opinions everywhere, and also some facts.
There is an old story about Martin Luther, the priest who nailed his ideas for a better church on the door, and while the church didn’t change, the community in which he lived was willing to entertain his thoughts, and slowly, things DID change. When asked why he would take the risk – being called heritical could end to death – he said (in German), “I cannot other.”
Stepping into the blogworld was stepping outside a comfort zone and expressing thoughts some might think better left unspoken.
C’mon in. Here There and Everywhere has always worked to be a safe place for exploring new ideas, disruptive thoughts and how to make things better. We’ve got great virtual refreshments and a safe place to vent 😊.
There’s a little bit of Soused Apple Cake left over from yesterday’s Fish Fry.
For those who, like me, have to be careful, we also have some relatively healthy finger foods:
Grab something to drink 😊
I miss our great discussions, and I miss the liveliness of the old blogging scene. I’m not so comfortable with the arguments and name-calling I find in other outlets, nor the need to be wary of those who are monitoring – and who are they, anyway?
Meanwhile, a good friend mentioned recently how political I have gone.
Honestly, in these times, even the apolitical are speaking out. I heard a priest today talk about his anger at the hijacking of the gospel, used for vengence and not for love. I found it very brave, those strong words. If we don’t speak out bravely now, the crushing forces seeking vengence and control create a world most of us won’t want to live in.
I want a government who subsidizes health care for ALL. I want science to recommend vaccines which improve our quality of life and save lives. I want corporations that have standards to meet for air and water and environmental protection. I want our police to protect the weak against the bullying and violence of those who think might makes right. I want to welcome the stranger, creating new textures and patterns in the fabric of our nation. I want every person’s vote to count. I want responsible, accountable, educated leadership, and congressional decisions created by working together to achieve doable compromises.
“Ich kann nicht anders.”
As a post script – this is my 5,900 published post 😊.
Monsoon Season
August in Pensacola is brutal. I walk in the early mornings, trying to get a majority of my daily steps in before the sun even rises. We run from our air conditioned house to our air conditioned car to the air conditioned store when we need groceries,
Between three in the afternoon and six, we have a tropical rainstorm almost every evening, We wait for it. We welcome the booming thunder and the sharp, blinding flashes of lightning. We love the sounds of the raindrops pounding on our roof. And then, when it is over, we have a brief respite from the heat.
Sunday at the Veterinary Emergency Clinic
My normal Sunday morning is quiet and contemplative. I get up early, whisper a quick “I’m going to church now” to Adventure Man and head out to what we jokingly call The Express Service. It’s for the quiet people who want to worship without a lot of embellishments and move on. Our priests are very good at respecting people’s time and creating a serene atmosphere for worship.
On my bathroom mirror is an ominous yellow sticky that says “wake me when you get up to talk about Uhtred.”
Uhtred is seeping blood and pus on his left flank. We know there are no options, we dress quickly to get to the Vet Emergency Care before the rest of the world awakes – we’ve been there before. It’s the only game in town, and weekends are busy.
We sign in. As they take Uhtred to the back to give him a superficial exam, a man comes in carrying a huge dog – maybe 80 pounds – who does not look like he is breathing.
We are updated on Uhtred’s condition and moved to a small room. A tech came by with water and an update – due to an all-hands-on-deck emergency, less urgent cases are on hold, Uhtred being a less urgent case.
We wait six hours. During these six hours, I take a break to go outside and walk; walking helps me calm my anxiety and keeps me sane. As I walk, I see another prostate dog come in on a stretcher, and desperate people with cages arriving. We’re under a high heat warning. It’s affecting our animals, too. We’re all desperate. We love our animals, and this is the only emergency treatment center open on Sunday in town. The wait seems endless.
A very competent doctor comes in and gives us two options: a stabilization one where we get him to our own vet the next day, and a complete treatment one, where they get to him when they can, but there are higher priority cases, and they just keep arriving, and they won’t get to him until late in the day. We opt for stabilization; we’d actually prefer Uhtred be treated by our own somewhat eccentric vet who has known us for years, and has treated all our cats.
We leave the clinic in relief after six hours with a cleaned-up, medicated cat in an “E” collar (for Elizabethan) to keep him from licking his wound.
As we leave, something extraordinary happens, something we have never seen before. The clinic closes its doors to incoming patients. There is one doctor, and 40+ situations awaiting her attention. Until they can bring in more emergency staff, they cannot deal with more. My heart goes out to them all, those who are trying to triage and treat these desperate cases, and those who are turned away when there are no other options.
We have a family dinner later in the day, this one an adult-only dinner where we discuss family situations and discuss options. We love these dinners, meeting with our son and his wife quietly, relaxed and open. We make a great team.
My daughter-in-law tells me there IS another option, further north, where we can take our animals under emergency conditions, a place they really like. Another resource! I am so thankful; I’ve never heard of this place, and it relieves my future anxieties about our animal emergencies.
Here There and Insanity
I have a group of buddies who gather early in the morning to swim. Everyone needs a group that can help keep them sane, and this is the group for me. We share news updates. We share reactions. We share our own ups and downs. Some of us are elders; we share our aches and pains. And at all of this – we laugh. Thanks be to God; we help each other keep things in perspective and keep a sense of humor about ourselves.
AdventureMan tells me I have a special smile for when I am in Alaska, or when I am on a boat. Both sing to my soul. It’s hard coming off a great vacation, and even harder when a heat dome covers Pensacola and there is barely a whiff of fresh breeze, even by the shore.
I thank God, too, for the life I was given, my time in Alaska, and my time with my husband living in so many different countries in service to our own country. You know, old fashioned things like building alliances, learning foreign cultures and languages, building relationships.
So forgive me if I rant now and then about the craziness I see in our current situation. Sometimes I feel like the blog name should be Here There and Insanity; as Paul says to the Romans, we are doing the things we ought not to do and not doing the good we ought to be doing.
What to do?
Here is what I wish for you – a strong partner, and a loving family. A group, or two or three, of buddies who can help you laugh when insanity happens in the world, and a belief system that can keep you grounded when moral values are topsy-turvy, shaken and tossed out.
“There are places I’ll remember all my life – though some have changed . . . Some forever, not for better, some have gone, and some remained . . . All these places have their moments with lovers and friends I still can recall, Some are dead and some are living – in my life, I’ve loved them all.”
“Maybe . . . ?” His Own People are Saying
It’s not us empty headed liberal thinkers who are saying “Maybe” with that doubtful look on their face. You call “Wolf!” too many times and people just naturally start to get skeptical, especially the conspiracy crowds.
“You know the casings didn’t match the gun of the accused would-be assassin,” they are telling one another with worried frowns.
“You know that kid in Pennsylvania was a Republican? And how was he allowed to be on that rooftop? The whole thing sounds kind of loose to me,” they’re saying in the coffee shops.
These are not my people talking. We’re busy shoring up lawsuits against constitutional travesties, and fighting for voting rights for people who have paid the price of their felonies. We’re in the churches, and on the streets, helping people get the right ID to continue voting, their right as citizens of the USA. We’re protecting those immigrants who are good, honest, hard-working people, and not just another statistic to boost the extradition boasts. And we are busy fighting for US Citizens, against having their citizenship stripped at the whim of those who don’t like their color, or their religion, or their opinions.
It’s hard to believe we are really having this conversation in the United States of America.
Sunset 2 February 2026
Amd suddenly the polar vortex shifts and spring temperatures appear. AdventureMan and I scurry to uncover the plants. So far, so good; everything looks like it survived.
We are blessed by unexpected phone calls from old friends, out of the blue. Unexpected blessings rolling in as the cold winds roll away.
Waiting for Snow
Lest you think I sit around between trips finding things to rant about, I will share my Saturday with you.
I am religious. I am a believer. LOL, here is where Catholics and Muslims have something in common – when I say “I am a believer” my Catholic friends think I am Catholic, and my Muslim friends think I am Muslim. Sooner or later we get it all figured out. I believe in a Great Creator, without whom nothing was created, and who is magnificent beyone our ability to understand. I believe he cares about us on an individual basis, and that he wants only good for all of us, whether we agree or not. I do not understand why he gave us all free will, and I know it would be a terrible world without it. I believe God is infinitely merciful.
So in the midst of some of the political horrors of January, I texted a friend and said “I need a meet-up.” We met up this morning at a local cafe and hashed out our lives, just normal stuff, families, husbands, children, and what we CAN do to make a difference. I have a friend from high school, and a friend from college, and friends from almost every post where we lived. We don’t always see one another, but when we need a good connection, we get on the phone – yeh, old school – and it’s like we’ve never been apart. When I need to re-balance, when my emotions are unmanageable, my friends help me recenter. Thanks be to God. At the cafe, I also saw another old friend, of a different political persuasion, and we were delighted to see one another, reminding me that our current differences are temporary, and mendable.
I arrived back home to the aroma of garlic and peppers sautéing; AdventureMan is making beans! We have been informed it MIGHT snow tonight, it is hovering just above and below freezing and a big pot of beans is a perfect hot weather meal.
Birds on the Bayou are chowing down, the fish must be running. We have pelicans plunging, an eagle chasing off a hawk, a cormorant and a heron.
Last year, almost this same time of year, we got several inches of snow. In previous years, I have seen a flake of snow here and there, but last year was a special confluence of factors – humidity, cold, polar vortex and a series of cold dry days in which the snow first fell, and then stuck around. It was like wiping away all the bad, a clean, clear new earth, few cars driving, lots of walking and lots of playing. Maybe we all need to play a little more. Pensacolians love a good snow, and it doesn’t stick around long enough to get old.
Our house is warm, we have a big pot of beans cooking, we have friends, I’ve recovered all my lost-for-a-very-short-time passwords and life is sweet. May you be equally blessed; may all your problems be little ones.
Oh Those Poor White People, Those Poor White Men
First, a disclaimer. I like men. I like men a lot. Some of my best friends are men, of all colors and nationalities. I am married to a white man.
Our Glorious Leader, the Bone-Spur Coward-in-Chief declares (as he has in Executive Orders from Day One of his Regency) that diversity, equality and inclusiveness are discrimitory against white males, and are hurting them.
I challenge Trump to take a look at statistics. I challenge him to tally the ranks of CEOs and Executives in the USA to see just what percentage of each sex and race are in those positions, and in what proportions. IF white males are not dominant, I will eat this post.
Yes. This is a rant. Yes, I am livid. As a woman, I was privileged to go to university, privileged because my own father was sure that women’s place was in the home, having children, taking care of you know, women things. He was shocked and horrified that I didn’t get a teacher’s degree or a nursing degree, or why had he sent me to college?
A very small percentage of women and people of color have managed to get to the highest positions of influence, power and wealth in the United States. So tell me about the poor white men!
For my American friends who scorn the Middle East; I lived in three countries, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia where the voters – men – recently voted for the women in their countries to have the vote. These were men who love their mothers, sisters, cousins, wives and daughters and wanted them to have the dignity of choice of leadership in their own countries. They educated their daughters, and even, in Saudia Arabia, would take their daughters out to the deserts and teach them how to drive, even though it was illegal in Saudi Arabia for women to drive. These Arab, Islamic men you denigrate supported the right of females to vote, to have access to good education. At one time they sent them to the United States. I don’t imagine they will be sending their daughters -or their sons – here now.
It is unthinkable to me that these statements are issuing from privileged white men in charge of our country. We’re looking at universities in Ireland and Scotland where universities will, as US universities once did, encourage free exchange of ideas and fraternity, and equality and respect and dignity of all people.
At one time, not too long ago, in our country, we had laws, and those laws were obeyed! We had laws protecting the cleanliness of our air and water, we had laws protecting the rights of citizens – and non-citizens. We had laws against profiting from public office, laws requiring the disclosure of personal interests, and recusal from decisions that might enrich the decision-maker. We had laws requiring oversight of government policies. We had a Supreme Court that acted with impartiality. We had a President who was not above the law. We had alliances with countries with whom we stood shoulder to shoulder for decades against bullies and thugs.
I expect my son will call and warn me that our Orange Acting President of Venezuela is about to take away my citizenship and send his Goons to my door with zip ties for speaking out. Or maybe just come and shoot me in the face as I offer cookies and ice tea?
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Early Voting in Florida
