Defiant and Alive

Dear you,

Christmas day in the bubble of coastal Florida.

Beautiful, warmish, breezy, scattered gentle showers.

My chubby brown girl cat wakes me, pawing at my face, nawing at the spine of the novel by my pillow.

I wake to peace and ease and feline antics.

I wake to NPR and the voice of Sedaris retelling Santaland Diary tales.

I laugh as I do every year, preferring satire to sentiment.

I stroll around the condo grounds between the waves of rain.

They come and go, those waves of rain, like waves of thought, memory, simplicity.

Ah, my lucky peace and ease between the waves of rain.

Chubby cat is napping now, like any other day.

She, like me, is in the bubble, but perhaps she dreams of brother and sister cats far away in war zones.

Perhaps she dreams of strutting triumphant under some country's flag.

Defiant and so alive.

She dreams between the waves of rain.

As do we all.

Defiant and so alive.

Love,

Joyce

Lame Mea Culpas

Dear you,

Breaking news: Powell and Chesebro (2020 election deniers and active participants in the attempt to overthrow the results) have written their apology letters.  Both are vague, one sentence statements that do not directly address their overarching intentions or admit to their misguided fealty to Trump. Sort of "sorry, not sorry" missives.  We need a bit more from them, and we need more than apologies from some other treacherous entities. See Texas:

Citizen Kate Cox was told by dudes (and their handmaids) she could not receive the abortion she needed. She did not meet the requirements set by Attorney General Paxton and his ilk.  The verdict from them:  forced birth.  She had to flee the state and get treatment elsewhere. Texas conservatives, can you muster up at least one sentence communicating your regret?  No, because you think women are cattle. 

See news-bits from frequently questionable sources delivered to our little phones, information tailored to freak us out:  This week, I received "must read" links to articles about BRICS (the Brazil, Russia, India, China and South African alliance) and how their future currency will destroy the dollar.  Run!  Empty your bank account now!  I am not (yet) dumb enough to fall for these types of alarmist predictions, but it did bother me.  Imagine what it did to more vulnerable types.  Hey, BRICS pimps, could you craft a "sorry" for agitating your elders?  No, because you believe in financial Darwinism, or something like that, believing the "weak" deserve to be destroyed.

And then see the ultimate misogynist chatted about on X (formerly known as Twitter which child Elon has pretty much destroyed, as was his motive all along) this week.  The man, vaguely referred to as a military type, was praised for how well he has trained his wife.  She does not eat until he has completed his meal. How about putting together one sentence admitting to your weakness and cruelty, tough guy? No, because you are a base level asshole.

There are many things I might be sorry for, but nothing I have ever done was intended to subvert democracy, dehumanize women in any way, or exploit the fears of vulnerable people. But I must share a one-sentence apology for "judging" them:

I am sorry Paxton is a douche, sorry the BRICS pimps are spiritually bankrupt, and sorry asshole husbands still exist.

Really, really sorry.

Happy Holidays!

Joyce

Artful Dodges

Dear you,

George Santos is no longer Congressman George Santos.  Today, he was officially expelled from Congress. Unprecedented action suited to these unprecedented-everything times.  Poor boy George, taking the American mythology of self-creation too far.  Such an obvious liar, caught in that old tangled web. I suppose we all lie, perhaps not on the Santos-Trump scale, but on the "lighter side" of deception, perhaps we just need to dodge something. The dodge lie is probably pretty common.  Most of us have made stuff up to avoid a dreaded encounter or consequence.  I recall these little dodges of my own:

In the eighties during my fabulous Manhattan days, I remember telling a "beau" I couldn't meet him for a date because I had to unpack my trunk. (What was I thinking and why did I choose a trunk when clearly I had not been traveling on a luxury ocean liner.)

Also in those heady eighties, I told a real beau that my relationship with another cast-member on the road in Best Little whorehouse in Texas was nothing to worry about since the guy was gay.  (As it turns out, the guy was gay.  And as justice would have it, the real beau dumped me.)

During a teaching gig in St. Pete., Florida, I told a particularly deplorable student that I couldn't meet him during office hours because I didn't have to have office hours due to my "special status".  (Of course he ratted me out.  I don't care; it was worth it.)

In a recent conversation with a neighbor, I told her I went to the doctor for a checkup every year. Truth is, I never go to the doctor unless something breaks or explodes. (I said this because the neighbor is actually a sweet soul, rare in this zone, and I didn't want her to worry about me.)

And almost every day in condo-world, I avoid "exciting" the schadenfreude types by never describing my real situation.  I might have a toothache, be aggravated by my maniac cat, annoyed by the idiots at the grocery store, or freaked out about the jury summons I just received, but they will never get to enjoy my pain.  My consistent reply to their creepy "How ARE you(s)?" is consistently this:  "I am absolutely fabulous, always."

Well, no true harm done in any case, right?  Maybe lying is just part of being human, part of our efforts to protect ourselves, create ourselves.  But consider this from Andre Malraux, "Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides."

And with that being said, I must now sign off.  I have to unpack my trunk. God only knows what I have hidden in there.

Love,

Joyce

Condo Boards and Congress, Fight Clubs!

Dear you,

This week, Republican Senator Mullin of Oklahoma challenged Sean O'Brien, Teamsters president, to a duel, a fisty one, right on the senate hearing floor. "Stand your butt up."  "You stand your butt up."  That was the challenge and the retort, very fifth grade playground. Fabulous Senator Sanders, brother Bernie, had to remind Mullin that he was a senator, for god's sake. And then, in the House, former Speaker McCarthy was accused of elbowing an enemy congressman in the kidney.

Is this happening or am I failing to distinguish between (once again) satire and reality? As for shenanigans in Congress, in the current online Onion, see "Woman Comes Out of Manic Episode to Discover She's Been Elected U.S. Representative."  (From Florida, naturally.) In the sassy piece, the fictional congresswoman comes out of the episode and recalls some things she stated at rallies that her supporters loved: "I do know I said something about foreign oil being a juice concocted by Jesus Christ that would make U.S. troops grow tall enough to marry the Statue of Liberty." Actually, this sounds like something many Florida folks would cheer for.

What a hot mess, petty violence and idiocy. Like here, in my zone and the utter shit-show of my HOA.  This idiocy was on full display during the yearly owners meeting last Saturday.  Newer owners with ego problems have been working on their own little version of January 6, Lilliputian insurrectionists.  On forums such as Eneighbors, one standout ego-maniac lobs personal attacks on older board members and accuses the management company of something close to fraud.  After the vote for  next year's Board of Directors failed to meet his expectations (the older, calmer souls were actually re-elected), he suggested the management company had purposely "botched" the election.  Yeah, like "the election was rigged!"  I could not resist responding to all the infighting by quoting from Palahniuk's real Fight Club:  "The things you own end up owning you.  It's only after you lose everything that you're free to do anything." I also stated that I would be happy to let my condo go for $50 and exit laughing since everything here is so ridiculous.  (Word has it the owners who are currently listing their condos for sale totally freaked out about that.  Talk about blowing the comps!)  Sadly, the infighting here will probably not end any time soon, as it will probably not end any time soon in Congress. It's all Fight Club, but without the philosophical inspiration or literary sizzle.

To close, I wish you all well.  I shall now "stand my butt up" and try to carry on as the tragic-comedies continue.

Love,

Joyce

Look, listen, and STFU

Dear you,

Reading Dan Lyons' new book, STFU - The power of Keeping Your Mouth Shut in an Endlessly Noisy World, has shifted my perspective a bit.  How much pointless chatter do I create?  What do I choose to listen to and see?  Hearing him, this morning, instead of mainlining MSNBC, getting riled up and then X-posting (formerly known as tweeting) about it, I sipped morning coffee without Morning Joe and cared for my princess cat. During my workout and brunch, I listened to Vladimir Horowitz playing Scarlatti, Mozart, and Rachmaninov, a magnificent piano concert recommended by my friend, New York James. Bravo. Tips from Lyons and James made my morning-self stronger/zippier. And less stupid.

Choosing where to direct my mind, my spirit, is not hiding from the chaotic world but being in it with some sense of control.  And peace, even if fleeting.  Look and listen carefully, selectively and objectively.  Local example:

The other day, military jets were screaming overhead.  The sounds of war preparation, louder than I usually hear in this dual Air Force base location. I looked up and saw the white trails jets leave in the sky, our now bright blue cooler sky.  Then I looked down and saw a man at work by the pool, patiently shoveling sand into the six foot hole created by plumbing repair folk.  He surely heard the jet screams, but did not look up.  He focused on task, filling the gap, packing down the sand and then covering the surface with cement. Like him, those jet pilots were on task.  They could not see him but always "hear" him; they know he is theirs to protect and defend.

I looked and listened and saw something beautiful.  The pilots in the sky and the worker on the ground were on task in distinctly different yet artful ways. I didn't feel driven to immediately voice my opinions about military funding or workers' rights. I chose to Shut the Fuck Up and to Shut It (the purposefully inflammatory digital or televised chatter) the Fuck Off. 

Of course the irony here is I am creating blog-chatter on the subject of #STFU, not totally shutting the fuck up.  But my intention is to not go all anti-tech or anti-anything.  I will still enjoy Morning Joe with my morning cup of joe, still post mini-blogs, and still comment on "X", but in each case, will do so with less frequency and more intent.

Look, listen.

Joyce

Atlas shrugs.

Dear you,

Mythic Atlas holds the world on his shoulders.  Is he losing his grip?  It seems this is so.  

To type my spin on another war, the terrorist attack against Israel this weekend, is something I don't want to do.  My words fail, cannot capture what needs to be said.  I will, however, share a simple moment from this time.  I call it a Bubble Moment:

Sometimes I have to walk away from the coverage of world events; yes, I have the luxury of doing that. I frequently tune in to reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond, Mike and Molly, and Friends late at night.  I know the plots and everything gets resolved or at least tidied up in a thirty minute box.  A night or so ago, a Friends episode featured a view from a character's office, a perfect view of the Rockefeller Center Atlas.  This popped my bubble of escapism.  This god, forever, must support the sky. The Fifth Avenue statue depicts him supporting the entire globe. What happens if and when he can no longer bear the weight?  What happens if he (alluding to Rand's writing) shrugs? That is what I feel like has happened these days. Atlas has shrugged, but the sky hasn't fallen.

Atlas is us, the ones who hope to be on the right side of history. I want to be a part of that. I'll begin by turning off the reruns and emerging from all things "bubble".

That's all I've got this day.

Love and endurance,

Joyce 

Rednecks with Chainsaws

 Dear you,

This moment, the House votes to determine Speaker McCarthy's future.  The usual cast of far right characters are coming for him and they might get what they want.  During all this, the most deranged commentary I hear is about how all this is the fault of the Democrats, who, by the way voted with Republicans to not shut the government down last weekend.  I also hear how our unwillingness to vote to save McCarthy's hold on the gavel is the problem. Lot's of talk. But my focus remains clear and what I recognize is this:  the Gaetz-MAGA chaos machine is armed with chainsaws, happy to dismember and decapitate a functioning government; they dream of a not so good past life.  No subtlety, no negotiation, just slash and burn.  Like the "tree service" crew my condo board sent to oddly deface (and possibly kill) the formerly gorgeous holly tree outside my balcony.  That was Tuesday morning . . .

I was drinking coffee and mainlining MSNBC morning news when I saw the service truck pull up by my building.  Printed aggressively on the truck was the now empty phrase IN GOD WE TRUST. I winced.  In this area, that seemingly benign phrase is often used to cover brutal behaviors. I ran downstairs to inquire, what is up?  Do you intend to take down that holly tree?  "No, mam, we're just here to trim it back."  Fine.  It needed trimming and certainly shaping. I hoped for the best, but then the "boss" arrived". The workers with the trimming tools were told to yield and let him take over.  The boss jumped into one of those crane-lift chairs (sorry, don't know what they are actually called) and proceeded to move into the holly armed with a screaming chainsaw. I winced again. Rednecks with chainsaws, what could possibly go wrong?  And "wrong" went down.  The poor tree is now decapitated, taken down to the second floor level; entire branches hacked off.  It looks like a skeleton version of its old self.  I cried.

Now, again as noted above, I listen to the battle between rationality and chaos going down in the House.  Those who wish us harm (not just the Gaetz contingent but also the "centrist" republicans) push "parental rights" in education (a.k.a. puritanical repression), expansion of fossil fuel production, forced birth policies, and the erasure of equal rights for LGBTQ citizens. They might not all be literal rednecks, but they all wield metaphorical chainsaws.

Wherever you are today, pay attention, please.  So much is at stake, so much more than my holly tree.

Carry on!

Love,

Joyce 

To Do Lists

 Dear you,

My favorite absurd news of the week is the report about Trump using the back of classified documents for to-do lists.  His messiness and disregard for governance gets richer by the minute.  I would love to see the entries on one of those lists.  My recent to-do's (not jotted down on backs of classified docs) have been all about sweating the small stuff.  The small stuff should be easy, right?  Not so much.  I have dealt with some listing epic fails recently:

1. Mitigate mild anxiety by drinking decaf in the morning instead of espresso.  Result:  completely lost in a fog, exhausted, slightly depressed, but still anxious.  Epic fail.  Back to caffeine.

2. Front tires on auto look a bit soft; instead of driving to the oil-change and car-care place, do it yourself at the local gas station. I can do this!  Result:  I couldn't control the air hose and ended up blowing gravel dust all over my face. Epic fail.  Return to the usual dependence upon the kindness of strangers. I begged the station's cashier to help me air up.  She pitied me and did.

3. Print out car insurance renewal card at the library. Result:  the print-out card was not updated to indicate current coverage.  Epic fail. This meant I had to call the company which meant waiting for a call-back from Agent So and So.  Keep in mind I am at the library.  The phone rings, I try to whisper my needs to the agent, but my whispers are like most people's screams.  Angry librarian confronted me and asked that I take the call outside.  She did not pity me.  After an hour of send and resends of the required card via email, I finally received a correctly dated version. That was fun.

4. Drive to Walmart and purchase cigarettes at a bargain price. Result: The liquor store there was out of my brand and the in-store stock was locked inside a glass security case. Key-keeper, somewhere deep in the bowels of Wally, far, far away. Epic fail.  I had to ask an annoyed employee who had better things to do to call for a key carrier. The keeper of the magic key appeared fifteen minutes later.  Once inside the precious case, he found only one pack of my favorite mistakes.  I drove twenty something miles round trip to save $1.50.

5. Keep fighting the idiocy of Governor DeSantis and work for any challenger who might defeat him. (This is far from "small stuff" but it is a daily effort.) Since Dems may have no shot in Florida, who else in the GOP might be better than Ron?  Result:  oh, the horror. I discover the latest potential challenger is Congressman Matt Gaetz. Epic fail indeed. Prescriptive action, just stay Blue and pray for Florida.

Well, that was yesterday.  Time to attend to today's list, wisely jotted on an index card that doesn't have national security secrets written on the back.

Enjoy your to-do's today.

Love, 

Joyce

Googling the Day Away!

Dear you,

Why the smoking ballerina photo?  Because I like it, I am a bit bored, and Googling can be diverting.  Go search "images" using simple words like "smoking ballerinas" and you'll get fabulous results.  Googling can be fun. Googling can also be instructive.  For example, consider the recent hurricane, Idalia. If you worried about being in her path, all you needed to do was Google this question:  where did The Weather Channel send Jim Cantore?  Yes, he was in Cedar Key, Florida, the big target. When a hurricane looms and you are wondering where to go, ask the machine where Cantore is.  Then run the other way.

Questions.  So many survival questions. What else can I learn from the Google? My findings:

How likely is it that Trump will be reelected?

President Biden and former President Trump have identical ratings in a new WSJ poll.

Why do I dislike children?

Because they are dirty, loud, selfish, stupid, dependent creatures. (Quoting Arianna from the chat site Quora.  Answers from experts suggested something is wrong with me so I am ignoring their assessments.)

How many times can I get Covid?

There's no limit to how many times you can get COVID-19. As the virus continues to mutate, reinfections are on the rise.

How is the liberal brain different from the conservative brain?

From the National Institutes of Health: "We found that greater liberalism was associated with increased gray matter volume in the anterior cingulate cortex, whereas greater conservatism was associated with increased volume of the right amygdala. These results were replicated in an independent sample of additional participants."

So, is having more gray matter better than having a swollen amygdala?

More gray matter is associated with better cognitive function. Studies have shown that larger amygdala volumes are associated with behavioral disorders.

Why does my fridge make a thud sound like something is falling?

"Check and secure the drain pan."  

What the hell is a drain pan?

The answers were so boring I don't even care.  But now I know I have a drain pan.

What Are the Odds of Living to 100?

Less than 1%.

Final question, directed to self:  What did I learn from all this Googling?  Trump might be reelected, so I need to renew my passport. Children are annoying; it's not just me and I know this because Arianna said so.  Covid is unavoidable and resistance is futile. I have a big, gray brain. My drain pan has insecurity issues. The odds of me living to 100 are pretty slim, so I best be signing off and do something real.

Out!

Joyce

PS - Tropical storm Lee is predicted to become a category 4 hurricane. Find out where Cantore is headed and don't go there. Google it.

About Last Night . . .

 Dear you,

Yes, I watched the first Republican debate last night.  Yes, I was horrified but not surprised by my horror.  One big car crash, I could not look away.  Of course the majority of players on that stage will support a (probably) convicted criminal if they themselves don't secure the nomination. And of course the main points of debate were about how depraved liberal cities are, how America as a whole is in decline, and how teachers' unions are the cause of all ills.  I won't rehash what you saw and heard.  I will, however, attempt to confront horror with humor.  Take Vivek, the empty bloviator "businessman".  Watching him, all I could think about was this:

Do you remember that Friends episode when Ross got his teeth whitened at a mall?  That's all I could think about when the camera focused on Vivek. Of note, after the debate when Hannity interviewed this isolationist barbarian, he made a big deal out of those teeth, complimenting his smile. "Politicians should smile more." (WTF.)

And then there was the poor governor of North Dakota, all banged up after a game of basketball.  Did you catch his final remarks to the audience?  He looked like he was on the rack; perhaps his pain meds had worn off.  He babbled about his work ethic and said something about his hygiene routine. It made no sense to me.  What the hell was his point?  My friend James in NYC clarified it for me:  "he showers at night".  Side splitting. This makes him an ideal candidate for POTUS.

Finally, there was poor Mike Pence reminding us about his born again status.  We learned (again) that Jesus is his personal savior.  This, in his view, makes him a leader of moral authority.  What do we know about right and wrong?  What do we "unsaved" know about the best way to run a country?  Mike's theocracy is the way to go!  Question, Mr. Pence, you might be saved, but who will save us from you?

Enough about that.  Just stay tuned; the comedy will continue.

Love,

Joyce

 

Trust?

Dear you,

A poem by Christopher Logue:

Come to the edge.

We might fall.

Come to the edge.

It's too high!

COME TO THE EDGE!

And they came.

And he pushed,

And they flew.

I love the three voices there; we hear the inspiring leader, the doubtful followers, the objective observer/teller of the tale.  The leader's assertiveness convinced them to take the risk and they flew. Happy ending. But if that leader was a shady con-man or con-woman, there would be lots of blood in the valley below the cliff.  It's a matter of trust. Sometimes we trust the wrong people. See the indictments and testimony about Mr. Trump. See what his "leadership" did to those who believed him. He pushed. They fell. All this is going down and yet he took time out of his day this morning to lash out at his fan-spokespeople on Fox and Friends.  From the New York Post:

“Why doesn’t Fox and Friends show all of the Polls where I am beating Biden, by a lot. They just won’t do it!” the former president posted on Truth Social. “Also, they purposely show the absolutely worst pictures of me, especially the big ‘orange’ one with my chin pulled way back.

Well, not that I typically want to defend Fox and Friends, but come on, Donald.  You are BIG and ORANGE and have NO PERCEPTIBLE CHIN. What other image could they use? Poor Fox and Friends, long time defenders of the Donald. They trusted a really bad guy; they trust him still.

It's always a matter of trust.  Zoom in to a Florida story, also featured in the New York Post.  A woman named Nichole Maks shared a home with an elder (a Mr. Cerasoli) who probably trusted her.  She murdered him, then fled to a local fast food joint. (Nothing like homicide to work up an appetite.)  There, she was apprehended by the police and taken into custody.  "After she was read her Miranda rights, Maks told detectives that she never entered Cerasoli’s bedroom and only set foot on the second floor of their shared apartment to “feed her spiders.” When asked about the weapons she had dropped, police said, Maks became “agitated” and demanded a lawyer. Police returned later with a warrant to test the woman’s bloodied body for DNA evidence. Maks then asked for a can of Diet Mountain Dew and police obliged her."  She then doused herself with Dew, attempting to erase the DNA. Well, the attempt failed.  She's legally doomed but at least she's not dead like poor, trusting Cerasoli. Bless his heart. The "I keep spiders as pets" thing should have been a major red flag.  He trusted a really horrible woman.

We have to take risks; we choose who to trust every day in different contexts. We must trust or we'll never "fly".  But these are the days when our senses must be sharp and our choices well-informed. Go to the edge, please. But do your research first.

Love,

Joyce

Leprosy and Lies

Dear you,

I have become an indoor girl, more than ever before.  The brutal heat along the Gulf Coast is not slacking off. Yes, yes, yes, Florida is hot in the summer, but this is (the word of our times) unprecedented.  Bad as it is here, it is worse in Texas, so Texans on the run are packed in our rental units. This is a major drag. Add to this weather trauma the constant bad news for the sunshine state. Like the cases of resurgence of leprosy. Leprosy?! Another nightmare revival of something we thought was over, something that would never happen here. We melt, deal with crowds and accelerated living costs, and now worry about our digits dropping off.  Florida, a really expensive, annoying leper colony. Has Governor DeSantis blamed this on Biden yet? Give it time . . .

I have also become a metaphorically indoor girl in terms of local chit-chat, even in the friendliest of contexts.  The rage around here is defense of free speech and I just cannot endure having one of those conversations. The free speech right, of course, does not apply to artists, educators, writers, progressive activists, environmental warriors or anyone "woke" (how sick of this am I).  The defense is all about the thrice indicted Mr. Trump.  Any/all blaringly obvious charges noted in the Smith indictment are declared to be protected speech.  Even though the document clarifies that lies are protected, it asserts criminal actions are not.  This too is dismissed by the cult of DJT.  I don't know why any of us thought reality would cure their addiction to MAGA. Everything is just speech! Free, free, free speech.  We are dealing with this diseased perspective, a leprosy of lies. Trump's fans will believe and defend anything; current statements of support prove that to be true.  Those statements are so absurd, they rival these from my beloved satirical friend, The Onion.  From their piece "Republicans Explain Why Trump Is Innocent":

"Eyewitnesses, verified text messages, recorded phone calls, physical evidence, his own confessions caught on tape - It's just not enough to go on."

"Donald Trump came to me in a dream and told me that not only is he innocent, but that I am his one true successor."

(This one attributed to Marjorie Taylor Greene) "He doesn't have the ridges that characterize the skull shape of a criminal."

"Committing a crime or two doesn't mean you're not innocent."

"Title 18 S 371 of the U.S. Criminal Code is obviously a slut who's just lying for attention."

Now, consider NOT SATIRICAL statements made regarding Trump's indictments (DC and Florida cases):

"It is unconscionable for a President to indict the leading candidate opposing him."  That is from House Majority Leader Kevin MaCarthy who knows damn well the charges came from a special counsel representing THE PEOPLE, not from POTUS.

"If he wants to store material in a box in a bathroom, he can do that."  That is from Jim Jordan, House Judiciary Chair who  knows damn well . . . never mind.  He's an idiot.

With that, I sign off and send indoor regards from the land of leprosy and lies.

Love,

Joyce 

Look Closely

 Dear you,

Yes, the beautiful may be small. But consider a couple of not so beautiful small events, symptoms of our national/global fracturing and tilt towards dystopia.  First, there is the recent fire bombing of a Unitarian Church, a church in Plano Texas.  The church is known for acceptance.  This of course includes the LGBTQ community.  Prior to the attack (luckily, no one was hurt), an anti-LGBTQ troll visited the church with a couple of wingmen. The man, Bo Alford, creates Youtubes testifying to his war on this segment of society.  The aforementioned church visit was featured on one of those videos. See NBC.com news:  "At the end of the video, which has been viewed more than 200,000 times, the men stand by the church sign and ask viewers to "pray for these people," calling the church "pagan and satanic."  So yes, many see the link between the bomb and Bo.  Local authorities, however, haven't established that connection. Alford's defense, again from NBC.com. appears in an email (look for the spelling error):

“First and foremost, my prayers go out to anyone effected by the fire. As to the accusations, My channel spreads the message of Jesus and his love for us. If you watch the video you will see the members of the church having nothing but nice things to say about us. She enjoyed our conversation and even ended it with a hug. The fact we are being labeled as a hate group and being tied to this fire in any way is appalling.”

In his social media bios, Alford describes himself as, "Believer Of Christ YouTuber/ Boxer/Pro Lib Troller." His videos often feature him and his friends "pranking" politically and socially liberal Americans, particularly focusing on members of the LGBTQ community."

Oh, okay.  Not a hate group but a PRANKING group. Whew.  No problem, Bo. You are probably pranking all the educated libs with that homophone error too (effected instead of affected). Ha, ha, ha! I said HOMOphone. You are so funny, Mr. Alford. But, seriously, have you considered how your little videos encourage other idiots of your ilk to act out violently?  Have you considered your Christ and thought about the "what would Jesus do" message on that T-shirt you probably own?  Pointless to ask.

Next event, here in Seagrove Beach, FL.  My stroll studying visitor bumper stickers this week introduced me to another Texan and his point of view.  The sticker: an American flag with three words, "Jesus and Trump!"  I expected this. My assessment when I first saw the car's owner was right, unfortunately. The previous evening, I watched pelicans cruise over the coast while stationed at my south bedroom window. I heard a bang, looked down to the source of the noise, a man slamming the trunk of his vehicle. Trunk secured, he strutted to the driver's side costumed in tight denim slacks, tucked in long sleeve shirt (red, very red), pointy cowboy boots, and a big old cowboy hat.  So, what do you think my read on this guy was?  Besides the idiocy of all that hot clothing on a "feels like 110 evening", I judged him as idiotically conservative, probably a Christian Nationalist. I did a fast bias check and tried to shut down the judgment. Appearances mean nothing. Be cool, Joyce! But then, the next day, I saw the sticker.  Small but not beautiful.

I hate being right. Small sketches, big picture.

But as Kant advises, I must look for the beautiful small sketches too.  Right now, I look up and out and see clouds forming for a cooling rain, an ancient longleaf pine standing strong, cat Coco lounging on the bed, a delicious cigarette sending up smoke signals in a crystal ashtray, a happy child headed to the beach, twirling fans overhead, etc. etc. etc.

Looking Closely. 

Joyce

War On Woke

Dear you,

Where to begin? I'll begin here, right here in Florida where the assault on enlightenment continues.  Recently, Leon County banned the following books from high schools:

Push by Sapphire

Dead End by Jason Myer

Doomed by Chuck Palahniuk

Lucky by Alice Sebold

Me, Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews

According to Moms for Liberty (them again) who made the initial complaint, these books did not meet state requirements.  Key requirement? To "protect students from woke indoctrination in schools".  Once again, life stories (fiction or nonfiction) are labeled dangerous.  More voices silenced because they might wake people up.  The rage against the "woke machine" is pretty obvious in its motivation; keep them dumb, numb, and obedient. Keep them asleep. The Ragers have now extended their project beyond literature.  Actual history is being rewritten in the most 2 + 2 = 5 way possible.  The Florida State Board of Education now requires instruction about how "slaves developed skills which, in some instances, could be applied for their personal benefit."

Oh for the love of god.

These people told us what they wanted and they are making it happen.  The Christian White Nationalist dream is gaining traction.  Listen to Alabama Senator Tommy Tuberville defend himself against assertions of racism by stating throughout his life he has "dealt with" minorities as a coach, etc.  He dealt with them. We use that verb when referring to things we handle or tolerate.  We deal with annoying neighbors, we deal with inflation, we deal with toothaches, we deal with flight delays.  The senator wants validation for dealing with minorities.

Unbelievable bastard.

Tommy and his crew have a pretty clear mission statement:  WE WILL DOMINATE AT ALL COST.  WE WILL TELL YOU WHAT TO DO AND WHAT TO THINK.

This is where we are.  And I, in Seagrove Beach, Florida, am surrounded by the advocates of this fucked up dominance.  The sad thing is the majority of those advocates are getting screwed over by the people they support. They will remain uneducated, unenlightened, asleep. And they will continue to dump their money into the coffers of the grifters just like the poor dude I passed on the beach cross-over yesterday.  He wore this:

He paid for that; he chose to be an advertisement for Trumpism at his own cost. Poor dude. He was intoxicated, crimson from sun exposure, and rather unfortunate looking. I wonder why he didn't just buy a "Fuck Joe Biden" suit. Perhaps this trunk wearer didn't want to offend the women and children he surely believes he owns. I wonder what makes him tick, why he supports a movement whose key aim is to erase/rewrite truth?  Doesn't that require an awful lot of angry effort? Chuck Palahniuk answers that question in Doomed, one of those five banned books:

"It's exhausting, the energy it takes to unknow a truth."

Bless their weary hearts. Damn their twisted actions.

Stay energized, my friends.  So much to protect and defend these days. #TruthMatters

Love,

Joyce

Happy Muted 4th of July.

Dear you,

Post-Independence Day, I reflect on that (for me) muted holiday.  My joy is on mute.  As fireworks exploded around Seagrove Beach last night, I paced around grumpy.  Independence Day?  It felt like Dependence Day.  We depend upon the decisions of a Supreme Court to tell us how free we are. Last week's bloody verdicts, not so good for individual freedom, unless of course you are a white Christian nationalist.  We depend upon the cruel whims of certain governors like my DeSantis whose captive state legislature dropped more restrictions on citizen choice.  Among the worst there, a thumbs up for using toxic waste to build highways; yes, radioactive roads.  Add that to the list of fun things to enjoy in the Sunshine State.  We depend upon branches of government that are partly or wholly owned by a gun lobby.  See the list of 4th of July holiday mass shootings.  Overall, I am not feeling independent at all.  And yet, the flags flew, the grillers grilled, and the locals and visitors here donned their favorite red, white, and blue beachwear.  Party on. Me? I'd rather adopt my cat Coco's strategy; curl up and snooze with paw blocking input, a very effective muting action. Wake me up when it's over!

Today, the morning after, I am determined to turn off the mute button and regain my Aurelian sense of "carry on", and as always, comedy helps.  Case in point, the recent political ad by my governor attacking Trump for being too soft on the LGBTQ demographic. In the ad, we see shots of male body builders. I guess these represent his idea of masculine normalcy.  Oh, Ron.  Your fans may not get it, but that choice is so obviously homoerotic, one can infer something different than you intend. And we see this:

Ah, the dream of laser eyeballs that can target and eliminate those pesky "others".

Maybe that's not funny after all.  Moving on, I check out my foolproof source for laughter, The Onion.  Their current edition's Breaking News headlines:

Oath Keeper Shoots Out Other Eye

Mysterious White Powder Found In West Wing Identified As President Biden

Texas Governor Adds Backup Prayer System To State Electricity Grid

Critics Say Submersible Should've Been Tested With Poorer Passengers First

CEO's Skill Set Transferable To Any Job That Requires Dumbass To Receive Big Salary

Smiling temporarily!  But still, reality kinda bites right now.  Dependency bites.  You say this too shall pass?  Excellent.  Just wake me up when it's over.

Meow.

Joyce

A Sticky Situation!

Dear you,

It is quite difficult to concentrate in this beach-zone during the smoothest of times, but after this weekend?  Woo. I am suffering from super-fuzzy focus.  There was that horrible anniversary Saturday, the overturning of Roe V. Wade, and then the strangest Russian coup attempt ever.  The hangover effect of all that isn't helping as I try once again to find the perfect place to move.  I am kicking myself (quite challenging for someone with a bad knee) for not having gotten this done last year, the year before, the year before that etc.  Anyway, action must be taken. Once more, with feeling.

I Google "warm, liberal towns to retire in" and get lost reading testimonies and viewing local photos.  Two hours later, I grow weary, give up (for now), but do one more Google search just for fun:

"Stuck in Florida"

I wanted to listen to other people in similar sticky situations, hear their advice or humorous takes on being wherever they are.  But the machine is very literal; I got results like this:

Florida horse stuck in pool hoisted to safety with crane  (How did he get in the pool in the first place?)

Worker gets stuck in Florida sewer trench (Did he die from the stench?)

Florida man accidently gets stuck inside tornado while driving (Uh, why "accidently"?  I know this is Florida, but why would anyone intentionally get stuck inside a tornado?)

Florida State Fair patrons get stuck upside-down on ride (Did they all post upside-down selfies?)

Naked man rescued after getting stuck on Florida drawbridge (I don't even want to know.)

So sticky life goes on in Florida, literally. At least this absurd act of Googling made me feel better about myself. My clever cat will never require rescue by crane; I don't have to do poop-related labor; I wisely avoid  tornadic activity and freaky state fairs; I always like to dress for success when crossing bridges. (Spin that as you will.)

Enough procrastination. 

End.

Joyce

#Pride and a Better God

Dear you,

Pride month, and all over the nation (the world perhaps), we are celebrating all people's right to simply BE.  Even in the deep red Florida Panhandle, there are Pride events in little places like Niceville.  Thank you Niceville for being more than nice. Surely the local chapters of Moms for Liberty are peeing their proper panties and decrying these gatherings as godless. Well, their "god" is something to consider.  And reject.  Let a poet clarify what I cannot:

Prayer/Oracion

BY FRANCISCO X. ALARCÓN

I want a god

as my accomplice

who spends nights

in houses

of ill repute

and gets up late

on Saturdays

a god

who whistles

through the streets

and trembles

before the lips

of his lover

a god

who waits in line

at the entrance

of movie houses

and likes to drink

café au lait

a god

who spits

blood from

tuberculosis and

doesn’t even have

enough for bus fare

a god

knocked

unconscious

by the billy club

of a policeman

at a demonstration

a god

who pisses

out of fear

before the flaring

electrodes

of torture

a god

who hurts

to the last

bone and

bites the air

in pain

a jobless god

a striking god

a hungry god

a fugitive god

an exiled god

an enraged god

a god

who longs

from jail

for a change

in the order

of things

I want a

more godlike

god

AMEN to that.

Happy Pride Month!

Joyce

Brace Yourself!

Dear you,

It's my birthday month and I am not aging gracefully.  In fact, I am really pissed off. My left knee blew out over a week ago. The cause is perhaps too much action, too many hamstring curls and 80's style aerobic play (see photo).  Whatever the cause, age or chosen action, I found myself in that section of Walmart no one wants to be in, the one stocked with aids for the infirm.  So unattractive, all of it, the bunion buttons, hernia wraps, and my "aid", the knee brace.  I think it's called a sleeve. 

Well, it could be worse.  I could be indicted!  Just like my fellow Gemini "pal", Donald.  Read the indictment.  Pick your favorite Trump quote from a witness.  This one cracked me up:

"I don't want anybody looking.  I don't want anybody looking through my boxes, I really don't. I don't want you looking through my boxes."

What an idiot. Doesn't that sound like a petulant nine year old?  I cannot believe we are trapped in this endless hell dance with Trump and his devotees.  The man is so twisted, so corrupt, and so possibly able to dodge this latest indictment.  Ooof.  Is our democracy suffering from some sort of degenerative disease, like my knee, is it too just ready to call it a day and check out?  I don't think the Walmart infirmity aisle is stocked with a cure for our Donald Disease.

My birthday wish?  Perfect success for Jack Smith, Esquire.

Maybe this time, maybe this time, we'll win . . . 

I shall hobble on!

Love,

Joyce  

Rescue me!

Dear you,

Cats find you.  That is what I hear.  And I have been found once again. Several weeks ago, a young female feline appeared in the parking lot.  She approached owners and guests without fear and was clearly socialized.  And hungry.  This little gal had been abandoned and wanted love, a home.  Of course, I took on the job of feeding her, aiming for clever placement of food and water bowls that management wouldn't discover.  Well, after a day or two, those bowls disappeared and I had to try something else.  I moved the feeding station up by my door on the top floor and placed a rag rug down so she would have a soft place to sleep.  This was a haven, precarious at best, but better than having her roam this big complex and possibly running into cat enemies, notably the human kind.

Four weeks later, she grew bigger.  Her color changed from a deep grey to a mocha brown.  Her green eyes became gold.  And then the hoards of summer season visitors started appearing.  As usual, these folks were traveling in packs, noisy, anxiety-ridden packs.  Little girl cat had to come in and escape stress. So, welcome home, Coco Ballerina.  Isn't she something? Isn't she lovely?

One week in to my second experience of living with a cat, the initial panic of "god, I am trapped; I can't take off and escape" faded, I am glad she is here.  Just like the she-cat who adopted me before her, Coco is a trip. She's messy and really bad at litter box protocol, but she's also a pleasure.  A treasure. Goddess Bastet, here I go again.

I wonder who abandoned this kitty.  I wonder what was going on in his/her life that motivated the abandonment.  Maybe they just couldn't take on the cost or the care and simply hoped for the best.  "Good luck, little one.  It's a big condo complex.  Someone here will love you."  That someone is me.

That's the way of the world, isn't it?  It has to be us, not somebody else. Even if our personal motto is Avoid Domestic Entanglements, random events will challenge our devotion to singularity.

And so, I am involved again.

Congratulations, Coco.

Congratulations, Joyce. 

Mint the magical coin!

Dear you,

Florida legislative session 2023.  Hell. A columnist for Tampa Bay Times (Stephanie Hayes) opines that bullies from 1980's movies are running Florida.  Think about the most abusive characters played by James Spader in that era.  And the "Heathers" sticking together to enforce their views on everything as, well, the law.  The session was a massive success in terms of restricting or criminalizing individual and even corporate liberty.  But hey, some people point out, there were some good results too.  Like, you know, establishing permanent tax breaks for children's diapers and adult incontinence products. Please.  Really?  Things are so messed up here we are celebrating tax breaks related to excrement.  

And things are pretty messed up outside our sunshine state borders.  Pick your topic.  How about the possibility of us defaulting on our debt?  I am very freaked out about this. I look for ideas, solutions, something never done before.  I am one of the weirdos who think the minting of a magical trillion-something dollar coin would be great!  I hear this is idiocy, but I am not alone.  I discovered I am part of a group called Coinistas.  We even have a hashtag, #MintTheCoin.  

Inspired by Warren Mosler, creator of Modern Monetary Theory, Carlos Mucha, came up with the magic coin idea back in 2010 noting Congress has already delegated to the Treasury all the "seignorage power authority it needs to mint a $1 trillion coin." See a recent vox.com interview with Dylan Matthews where Mucha added two other options:

"Treasury can issue perpetual consols [debts that never mature and continue paying interest forever until the government buys them back]. Since there’s no guarantee to repay the principal, it doesn’t add to public debt (which measures amount of guaranteed principal). The Fed can just donate the Treasury securities it holds back to Treasury.  Of the three [the above two and the coin], issuing consols is probably the least disruptive. Treasury can announce it is issuing T-bonds “payable at the pleasure of the United States” instead of a fixed term and can hold an auction later the same day. So that’s what I’d expect to see if Treasury runs out of money."

Perpetual consols and donating Treasury securities back to the Treasury.  This sounds really circular and made-up.  The whole financial game itself feels circular and made-up.  At least the coin option is concrete, like bartering with your landlord if rent is late.  "I can give you this nicely broken-in Barcolounger and whatever I have in the fridge instead of cash. And there is a lot of good beer in that fridge!"  That makes sense.  I never dealt with a landlord who accepted perpetual consols.

I say just #MintTheCoin.  Shut down the Republican intimidation machine.  Magically!

Love,

Fiscally risky Joyce

Comic Relief

 Dear you,

Tomorrow is the coronation of England/UK's new king. This monarchial ritual has been going on for centuries, but now the common folk get to watch the show.  For the love of god, I wish my sense of humor or appetite for pointless drama was operating properly so I could just enjoy the event like most normal people.  But I am way too de-centered and de-humored (I know, not a word).  Flip a coin. My daily mood is "either-or". Tails, I roll with the crazy; heads, I freeze and pout.  I don't know how the coin will land tomorrow, but I intend to tune in to the coronation even though:

1. Our banking system appears to be in peril.

2. Another random cat has appeared in my zone and I can't get the highly lauded 'rescue' people here to help me help her.

3. Someone out there, according to a notice in my mailbox last week, is trying to steal my identity (again) for employment purposes.

4. My life-line NPR radio station vanished from the airwaves for a couple of days (it reappeared yesterday) and I feared they had been axed by my not coronated governor-king DeSantis.

5. The debt ceiling!  The debt ceiling!  The debt ceiling!

6. Every day, another shooting.

Let it go, right? Just tune in and enjoy the show. My dramas are my dramas and everybody is going through something.  But that's not the real issue here.  The issue is a question of relevance; why are we celebrating monarchy in 2023?  Those jewels in that crown alone could pay for a squadron of fighter jets for Ukraine.  Apparently a "cocky" Brit agrees with my discontent:

Thank you, New York Post, for sharing this photo.  A penis mowed into a castle's great lawn.  A perfectly childish and absolutely HILARIOUS editorial comment about our obsession with monarchy.  Seeing this, I laughed for the first time today.

I suggest you too seek comic relief whenever, wherever you can find it.  Even if it is featured in a Rupert Murdock tabloid.

Carry on!

Joyce 

Curiosity Versus Neurosis - What are you reading now?

Dear you,

I am curious and have never, until recently, wondered why I am built that way. I know, never assume, but I have assumed that people generally want to discover things, answer random mind-tripping questions, hear about the experiences of others.  Anything I read is prompted by those desires.  I usually read two books at once, sometimes three. I mix modes, taking in expository information, fiction, poetry, biographies and essay collections.  Currently, see above photo, I am reading and re-reading that text on Buddhist practice and true accounts of bad-girl behavior from excellent women writers. They work together in a "be true to yourself" kind of way.  Their revelatory bits and pieces aren't standard stuff; they certainly don't align with the Christian Nationalism-purity agenda.  If given the opportunity, conservative book banners would put these two on some sort of hit list. "Atheist propaganda!"  "Lurid tales of fornication and guilt-free fun!" 

Imagine a day not so far away when these simple texts are forbidden. What will happen when these two books are not on a library shelf?  Who will answer questions about religious practice and breaking bad?  Some questions cannot be sufficiently answered by a Google search.  Curiosity is nipped in the bud because some/many people fear books.  A perverse obsession, considering the other problems we should be addressing. The situation is so absurd, this conservative obsession, it is best described in satire.  Thank you, opinion writer Rex Huppke of USA TODAY for your comedic spin in "Please stop asking me to address gun violence, I'm busy banning books."  An excerpt from that satirical delight: 

"The other day, while I was not considering a way to address the frequent and uniquely American issue of school shootings, I came up with a list of the greatest threats our children face: wokeness; Disney; lesbian M&Ms; diversity; equity; inclusion; Renaissance art (aka, statue porn); the word “gay” and it being said out loud; and probably mail-in voting.

These are all things we can and should ban to keep our children safe. But guns? Who’s that going to help, aside from the people being killed by guns?

No, as Rep. Burchett suggested, we can’t possibly stop school shootings. But we can put a stop to what me and my fellow Republicans see as the most dangerous thing that happens in schools: learning."

Brilliant, Rex.  Sadly true.

We are witnessing a war against fluid intelligence and curiosity. Neurosis v. Open Minds. But our neurotic friends face clever opponents:  bad ass librarians, teachers, old-school libertarians, creatives, progressives, good-trouble makers, lawyers with souls, and - of course - bad girls and Buddhists.

Happy end of April.  Support your local libraries and bookstores!

Love,

Joyce

Florida Follies, Blob Save Us!

(Oh dear god, don't let that happen.)

Dear you,

Cognitive dissonance continues in the Sunshine State.  We have survived several weeks of spring breakers with more coming, and they are all (Miami Beach chaos aside) so very happy!  Why not?  Up here in the Panhandle the weather is lovely, breezy and not too hot.  We don't have news stands featuring publications with high-anxiety producing headlines.  The free weeklies you might see only aim to convert (church ads) and tempt you to drop a few dollars (family friendly restaurants happy to seat your party of fifty). Florida doesn't want you to worry your little head about a thing!

I don't get it. Why aren't intelligent tourists boycotting this state? Things aren't as heavenly as they seem despite the big sell:

Visit Florida!  Where the governor responds to being called sanctimonious by Trump saying he doesn't even know what that word means.  Yes, he said that.  The governor currently eviscerating education doesn't know basic vocabulary.

Visit Florida!  Where the "Don't Say Gay" mandate is being expanded to include ALL public school grades. Yes, your seventeen year old will have no "schooling" about Oscar Wilde, Walt Whitman, Storme DeLarverie, Harvey Milk, Alan Turing, Freddie Mercury, King David, Alexander the Great, Sappho of Lesbos, Michelangelo, etc. etc. etc.  Well, at least they will know something about RuPaul if they stream TV.

Visit Florida! Where a bunch of wrinkly old white dudes and servile old white chicks are pushing a law that guarantees there will be no discussion of a female's menstrual cycle until the 6th grade.

Visit Florida! Where open carry is coming soon!  Wear your weapon in public!  Take it to Dirty Dick's bar and grille and watch the possibly liberal waitstaff squirm.  It's fun to abuse 2nd Amendment rights and you can do that here!  (Unless, of course, you are Black, Latino, LGBTQ, Native American, or a female with a brain.) 

Now, I might be wrong here.  Perhaps the majority of these breakers breaking don't agree with our "rulers".  They probably just want to be warm and away from wherever they come from.  I hope that is the case.  But they need to keep in mind that Mother Nature herself is resisting fascist Florida, using any means possible to punish our expanding stupidity. From the insider.com website:

"A giant blob of seaweed called sargassum is on its way to the coast of Florida.  Pollution and warming temperatures are causing the algae to grow more quickly.  It can be seem from space and weighs about 13 million tons."

My favorite reaction to that news can be found in our satirical treasure, The Onion. On that site, the fictional average guy, Frank Galonski, Systems Analyst, opines “DeSantis will just make a big show of putting it on a bus to Washington.”   He probably will.

Visit Florida!  Where in-your-face evidence of our disregard for planet Earth is about to wreck your break!

Welcome to paradise, darling.  More than "woke" is about to die here.

Joyce 

Dystopia.

Dear you,

Tennessee governor, Bill Lee, signed a bill into law that essentially bans public drag performances. Who voted for this man?  Who votes for someone who wants to criminalize people doing their thing? It just keeps getting sicker in Republican-land. Last year, in currentaffairs.org, Nathan J. Robinson warned us. He reported on the Texas Republican platform, his subtitle: "We need to understand the very, very dark forces that we are up against".

Dark indeed.  Their assaults on individual rights (and actual individuals) is matched by their assaults on democratic governance as a whole.  We are seeing it now, the calls to eliminate essential oversight bodies like the EPA or FDA.  Yes, Robinson warned us, referring to the Texas platform as their intended national model.  He wrote: "The Texas GOP also wants to repeal: all estate taxes, all business franchise taxes, the federal income tax, and all property taxes. The answer to the question of “But if you eliminate all the taxes, how will you fund government services?” is, of course, that there will be no government services. The platform calls outright for eliminating most of the federal government. The EPA’s power has already been gutted by the right-wing Supreme Court, but the plan is to abolish it altogether. And that’s just the start. 

In a section entitled Unelected Bureaucrats, the agenda proposes eliminating altogether: 

The Internal Revenue Service (IRS)

The Department of Energy

The Department of Education

The Department of Housing and Urban Development

The Department of Commerce

The Department of Health and Human Services

The Department of Labor

The Department of the Interior

The Transportation Security Administration (TSA)

The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF)

The National Labor Relations Board (NLRB)

The Food and Drug Administration (FDA)

The Centers for Disease Control (CDC)

The Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC)

The Occupational Health and Safety Administration (OSHA)

Holy fuck.  Imagine this week's bank failure (Silicon Valley Bank) without the FDIC protecting at least some of the deposit money.  Been brave enough to fly recently?  Imagine how fun that is going to be without a TSA.  Work through that list and consider the dystopian possibilities.

As for lesser impactful politics/voting, zoom in to my condo zone. The board and management are freaking out over a lack of votes (quorum) about an assessment. Many (like me) didn't vote because the whole deal is totally shady. The assessment estimate?  Inflated and vague. The intended "projects" focus on tree and shrub killing. Other idiotic priorities include spiffing up the corn hole area and the poolside public bathrooms. Those of us who abstained are receiving calls and emails yelling at us for "not caring".  This reminds me of an old South Park episode. Stan refused to vote for the school mascot because the choices were either a douche or a turd.  He was exiled and berated by Puff Daddy who said he must vote or die.  I don't recall if Stan caved and voted.  But I am not going to cave.  A "yes" supports destruction and tackiness and a "no" would suggest I don't want other sensible things on the list paid for (like new pool fencing to replace the rotten wood ones we have now).  I won't vote and I certainly won't die.  In the end, in this silly circumstance, no real harm will be done one way or another (except for the death of beautiful green things).  Wish I could say the same for our current national dilemma where it appears too many voters are choosing something very, very dark.

Who are these people?  What motivates their allegiances and alliances?  Vote or die becomes they vote and we die.

This is going to be one hell of a fight.  Embrace the light!

Love,

Joyce

Criminal blogging.

Dear you,

Oh, if only I did not have to comment on #DeathSantis, governor supreme, ever again.  But it is state legislative session time in Tally and Ron's goon squad of GOP code creators are on fire!  Setting liberty on fire.  See The National Review's (a traditionally conservative platform) Charles C. W. Cooke:  "An idiot in the Florida state legislature has introduced a bill that would require the registration of bloggers who are critical of the state’s government."

The idiot's name is State Senator Jason Brodeur.  His handiwork is S.B. 1316 and it requires any blogger who writes about the Gov. (and gets paid for their work) to "register" with the state ethics commission or some other Big Brotherly body.  I am happy to say I AM NOT PAID TO SPEAK MY MIND HERE IN THIS BLOG-SPACE.  And, dear senator, my mind-speaking today is simply this:  leave professional journalists the hell alone.  You come for them, you come for all of us.  And yes, you are an idiot because you are going to be ripped by the left, the right, and the center. Foxnews.com quoted Sarah Rumpf, contributing editor of Mediate, who shared a picture of the U.S. Constitution and declared:  "Here's my documentation needed to write about DeSantis, Moody, Bordeur, or any elected official. I'm not filing any 'registration' or reporting my salary to Tallahassee. Go step on all the Legos with this unconstitutional nonsense."

Go step on all the Legos, a child and idiot-friendly version of "go fuck yourself"!  You are fabulous, Ms. Rumpf.

That's all I got today . . . 

Please pray, fight, speak (choose your verb, any verb) for Florida. It is going down here and it could happen to you.

Love, Joyce

Animal spirits/Spirit animals

Dear you,

The official national animal of Ukraine is the common nightingale.  In their folklore, the bird is a harbinger of spring and a sweet voice of joy. On the anniversary of Ukraine's invasion, we long to hear the nightingale's voice heralding victory.

Throughout the war, stories about wild things under siege, birds, cattle, cats, dogs, ducks, zoo animals etc., have moved us. Brave organizations like @k9rescue.org are on the ground there, doing miraculous work. They give us hope. We see reports of rescue as pictured above, one majestic lion in his cage in Odesa who made it out.  As reported by cpr.org in 2022: 

"Nine lions airlifted out of Ukraine have now settled in Colorado’s Wild Animal Sanctuary.

An 11-lion pride was rescued from the Bio Park Zoo in Odesa, a port city in southern Ukraine, during the early stages of Russia’s invasion. The pack of lions arrived in Romania in May after traveling more than 600 miles. Once there, rescue officials worked out a final destination. 

The Wild Animal Sanctuary in Keenesburg, a small town in Weld County, immediately offered to bring the lions into their facilities. A spokesperson for the sanctuary said their executive director worked with several global agencies to ensure the lions were resettled to permanent homes."

Thank you, Colorado.

This lion, the symbolic nightingale, the kittens and puppies we see wrapped in the arms of Ukrainian warriors, all remind us of how precious wild things are and how we should honor their spirits.  Some say we each have our own animal spirit. I thought mine might be a cat just because I like them. Was I right? Good excuse to play around on the internet when I should be doing something else. I logged on and took some quizzes.  One test revealed I am an owl. So not a cat. "The owl spirit animal is emblematic of a deep connection with wisdom and intuitive knowledge. When the spirit of the animal guides you, you can see the true reality and see beyond illusion and deceit." Gee, thanks for the compliment, but I never thought of myself as that deep and certainly not that wise. I took the quiz again to verify and once again got the owl result.  Still not convinced, I took another assessment on BuzzFeed.  Those results revealed my spirit animal is a Shiba Inu (a doggie with a permanently smiling face) because "You're very curious about the way things work, but that doesn't mean you don't have a smile on everywhere you go. You're friendly, loyal, and you have a certain fondness for misspellings."

Well, I do have a "certain fondness for misspellings." And I am loyal. Not so sure about the smile or the friendly thing though. My "elfin" grin often reflects a mischievous train of thought, more wicked than warm. Friendly? Does transactional friendliness count?

Overall, the smiling pup and wise owl don't seem to match my self-perception. There are other options. Check out a list of all the spirit animals online during your next procrastination event. While we all might want to be tigers, horses, or eagles, that list includes creatures like the inchworm or the jellyfish. Bummer.  But wait, even those less than glamorous beings represent excellent qualities. The inchworm is logic, transformation, subtlety, concealment, and transmutation. Cool! The jellyfish is faith, transparency, illumination, acceptance, sensitivity, protection and intention. Who knew?

It seems all creatures, great and small, are as significant as the regal lion or glorious nightingale. Thank you to all who work to protect those creatures, especially in Ukraine.  Ah, Ukraine; soon, soon, soon, I hope, your lions will roar and your nightingales will sing of victory.

#StandWithUkraine

Joyce

DeSantis v. Da Vinci .....

Dear you,

Participating in Florida's raging education debates is a total mind fuck. Governor DeSantis' antics (the latest being a purge of New College in Sarasota, installing a "conservative" ruler there) cannot be described with an elevated vocabulary.  What he is doing is vulgar.  Beneath vulgar.  First, some context, some stats on Florida's education level:

High school graduate or higher, percent of persons age 25 years+, 2017-2021 89.0%

Bachelor's degree or higher, percent of persons age 25 years+, 2017-2021 31.5%

Essentially, the state's citizenry functions on a 12th grade level.  This can vary by county; case in point, Leon County (home to Florida State and the capitol) has a majority of college grads.  Overall, our colleges and universities are highly rated, even if our "general population" is not.  But these little slices of smart bother our governor.  Enlightened, critical thinkers tend not to bend a knee to autocrats.  For anyone who thought his early attacks were simply meant to defend the "innocence" of very young (K through third grade) students, I am sure you've caught on.  This little war on intelligence has no limits.  

For example, the book purge in all public schools as noted in this excerpt from a Duval County news outlet:

JACKSONVILLE, Fla. — Reports of empty classroom libraries and an extensive review of a book about hall-of-fame baseball player Roberto Clemente have put Duval County Public Schools in the hot seat with the Florida Department of Education.

The 40-page picture book has been prevented from going on library shelves for months, as the district reviews it to ensure it complies with new state curriculum laws.

“This is absurd,” said Florida Education Commissioner Manny Diaz in an exclusive interview with Action News Jax.

Roberto Clemente Jr. said the book is about his dad's upbringing, his time with the Pirates, and humanitarian work. Part of the book discusses the racism Roberto Clemente was subjected to."

Even DeSantis found targeting this specific book ridiculous, but the reactionary panic seen in Duval County was/is caused by him.

Of course the shelves were stripped; the DeSantis edict (HR 1467) puts educators in jeopardy, criminal jeopardy.  

As reported, in the National Review: "In mid January, in response to the new state law [HR 1467], leaders of the Manatee County school district, south of Tampa, sent guidance to their teachers and staff about their classroom libraries. Kevin Chapman, the district's chief of staff, told National Review their intent was to direct teachers to temporarily remove any unvetted books from their classroom libraries until they could be approved by a trained media specialist. And there was urgency, he claimed, based on an existing law that said "if there was an inappropriate book found in a school, that person or persons could be charged with a third-degree felony."   

That "existing law" mentioned in the National Review excerpt states Florida adults face felony charges if they provide access to “Any book, pamphlet, magazine or printed matter that contains explicit and detailed descriptions or narrative accounts of sexual excitement, or sexual conduct that is harmful to minors.”

Sexual excitement.  This includes nudity.  See Vitruvian man above.  I suppose teaching Leonardo da Vinci could cost you your freedom in not really free Florida. The Christo-fascists are really messing with our minds, literally.  They want absolute liberty to do as they choose and think as they think, but if others choose or think in ways contrary to them, look out. Why?  Back to my lifelong and not so original diagnosis that these control freaks have very afflicted, dirty minds.  And they probably hate themselves, loathing their bodies and nature in general.  What do they see when they look at The Vitruvian Man?  Do they see the artist's love of proportion?  His view that the human body is an analogy for the universe itself?  Probably not.  I think they do a "groin check" and gasp at how that might upset little Liza, or, worse, possibly excite little Larry.  The conservatives say Woke Progressives are the fun-killers in one breath and in the next, say we are out of control hedonists. Many in their ranks would react suspiciously to praise for someone being a polymath (like Leonardo himself).  Keep them stupid; train them to be compliant workers in a consumer society; avoid "exciting" their spirits. The overarching mission is simple:  kill their wild and wonderful souls.

Well, dear Florida, it is time for us to choose, da Vinci or DeSantis?

2023, and I am actually posing a question like that.  Who would choose ignorance over enlightenment?  Millions would.

Like I said, total mind-fuck.

#Resist

Love,

Still here, Joyce

Questionable February Fashion

Dear you,

Happy Valentine's Month, Super Bowl Month, and State of the Union Month!

About last night, POTUS Biden surprised us all with an unexpectedly lively speech and sassy interaction with the insurrectionist hecklers. The sparring was as entertaining as the bad fashion on display. As featured above, Sinema's mustard yellow costume certainly made a . . . statement.  It reminded me of that dinosaur with the wing-y things around his neck.  And then there's MTG in her fur collar coat. Was it cold in there, Marjorie? Both of these women and their clothing choices are inexplicable to me.

Unfortunate fashion can also be sported by Super Bowl fans and Valentine's Day celebrants who want to look super sexy.  The Super Bowl:

The item is also available in Philadelphia Eagle's green.  I'm sure the ladies who live in Philly's Main Line mansions are happy to hear this.

For Valentine's Day:

This is called the Kasanova shirt.  Mercifully, Kasanova is dead and unable to see the horrors his legend inspired. Shades of Seinfeld's puffy shirt episode.  But the shirt seems quite compatible with Sinema's ruffled dress.  Perhaps she should buy one for her beau or "beauette".

Clothing crimes make me smile. But I don't want to dwell on this too much because:

Joy Harjo from "Emergence":  

A human mind is small when thinking/ of small things./ It is large when embracing the maker/ of walking, thinking, and flying.

I want a large mind.  And a large heart. Happy February, in spite of "it" all. 

Love,

Joyce

Note: My mind and heart hover over the earthquake victims in Turkey and Syria, and, as ever as always, my mind and heart #StandWithUkraine.