I think about things. All the time. Admittedly, my thoughts aren’t always fully formed or fleshed out, but I’m hopefully refining things as I go.

I was awake at 3:40 this morning thinking about Maui, and Ukraine and Putin and the political mess we’ve been facing with Trump still hanging around. I was thinking about the unnecessary pressure we put on ourselves to impress those whose opinions matter to us more than they should. Thinking about how none of us had a say in being here, and apart from a certain moral imperative to avoid chaos, how dare anyone tell us what to think or how to live our lives, or what to be interested in vocationally!

I think about this stuff all the time. It weighs on me, it angers me to think about unrealistic expectations, to think about people who want things to be so different and so rancorous and ugly. Sure, democracy is messy. But it shouldn’t be this messy.

It infuriates me to think that Trump can still be so damned popular!

I overheard a conversation yesterday that had me thinking, “Wow, a Fox News junkie, in the flesh,” spewing bullshit and opinions he probably hasn’t given much thought to, but apparently wants to believe—about how solar panels and wind farms are next to useless, electric vehicles are part and parcel of some nefarious cabal, and the Democrats are evil and to blame for everything.

Fuck you, you unthinking lemming, you cackling parrot.

I obviously have some things to learn about expressing myself in a calm, level-headed manner. It’s just that I hear stuff like this from one person and realize I need to multiply it by, what, 70 or 80 million?

What’s inexcusable and truly tragic is that we’ve taken a perfectly good environment and pretty much neglected to care for it. There has always been a balance to be kept, and every reason to tread lightly and avoid excess. But instead we’ve treated this planet like it’s too big to fail.

In true literalist fashion, we’ve filled the earth and done our best, i.e. worst, to subdue it.

It won’t fail, though—in the big picture. It’ll fail us because we have failed it. The earth will heal itself, or continue on in some wounded fashion, but without us, without the source of its pain, the source of its neglect and abuse. It is us who have to go.

That process seems to have begun.

My proofreading needs improvement. In the previous post, please note the quote is from Wallace Broecker, not Walter. And in the next paragraph it’s breathe, not breath.

Going forward, I will take more time looking things over.

By the late 1800s, according to a USA Today article, scientists had already figured out that burning coal could “enhance” the Greenhouse Effect- the process that works to keep the planet warm.

Measurements taken in 1958 revealed what was the beginning of a steady rise in CO2 levels.

The term “global warming” was first used in a 1975 paper where one Wallace Broecker asked the question …”Are we on the Brink of a Pronounced Global Warming?” In 1998, Broecker added, “The climate system is an angry beast, and we are poking it with sticks.”

In 2023, there have been headlines touting worldwide temps having been the highest in the last 125,000 years. Canada has been on fire all summer, the air everywhere has been unhealthy and dangerous to breathe, the Atlantic Ocean temperature off Florida reached 90 degrees, and has gotten to 100 degrees in the shallower depths.

Hurricanes can be sustained when the water temp hits 80 degrees.

The combination of an El Nino and warming led to devastating flooding in… Vermont, among other places. Now the wildfires on Maui have decimated Lahaina and taken at least 53 lives, and most likely more.

I suppose someone could look at all this and pass it off as just a perfect storm of rare occurrences happening in the same year all over the planet…

They probably have a white collar job at Exxon, represent the good people of West Virginia, or just believe every word that comes from the mouth of the average Republican on Capitol Hill.

“It feels increasingly hard to find institutions in America that aren’t knee-jerk conservative or progressive. Beyond that, Christian institutions—whatever their doctrine or ideology—often hold in common a thirst for power, an unrepentant self-defensiveness, and a lack of courage that altogether belie the gospel. Many of them don’t seem to function all that differently than institutions outside the church.” — Tish Harrison Warren, Christianity Today, June 2021

It’s that last sentence that grabbed my attention, which is why I underlined it.

My religious faith, such as it is, has been molded in the Lutheran Church. More specifically, the LCA and then the ELCA– the more progressive expressions of the denomination. Martin Luther’s wrestling with scripture and grace, and his dying words– “we are beggars, that is true”– have cast a long shadow on how we view ourselves as a denomination and as individuals making our way through life. I don’t believe we’re near the top of the list of those who, as Ms. Warren puts it, “hold… a thirst for power” or “an unrepentant self-defensiveness.” If anything, we may be too quick to defer to louder voices. In our defense, though, we find ourselves enamored of shades of grey, convinced that seeing only black and white solutions does not adequately address the complexities of life and faith.

While she might come on a bit strong in some of her assertions, I believe Ms. Warren has zeroed in on at least one reality with her observation that churches don’t necessarily behave any differently than other clubs or civic organizations with particular charters and philosophies and mission statements. And it may have to do with, as the author puts it, this “lack of courage that altogether belie(s) the gospel.”

If people want a place to socialize and gossip and be with like-minded souls, they can join the local VFW or DAR or the Elks or the Rotarians. The church is necessarily a different animal. And if it isn’t, then those who attend are being done a disservice.

In certain respects, the gospel is offensive, revolutionary, intrusive, and just plain hard to embrace, because it calls on us to question or even let go of certain assumptions and beliefs, along with the dispensed “wisdom” of those whose opinions we may respect. It demands that we listen to the New Testament witness of Paul and others, not to mention… Jesus!

This is the glaring failure, as I see it, of those who espouse the vision of Christian Nationalism, which apparently chooses to root itself in the Old Testament witness of a sometimes judgmental and angry God; which embraces the belief that the Declaration of Independence does not declare all (men) as being created equal, and which cannot admit that the same document– and perhaps even the Constitution and certainly the Bible– cannot speak with authority to more current observations and discoveries concerning race and human sexuality. Among other things.

My gripe with the Church runs deeper than current assessments that its problems lie basically with people whose priorities are messed up, i.e. lazy and convenient interpretations of Scripture, Sunday morning soccer practice conflicts, being too tired from the stresses of parenthood or a crazy work week to bother rallying to attend worship somewhere, or a more general “what’s in it for me?” attitude– as if a key consideration in attending church or not is ROI– return on investment, bang for your buck.

My concern is more elemental than these things, even as they contribute to the declines. As I’ve tried to explain in previous posts, what nags at me is the thought that the church, after all these centuries, is losing its authority as a function of becoming an anachronism. As science and knowledge fill in certain gaps, religion recedes and simply becomes a target for pointed questions about its relevance.

And an unsettling realization may emerge: for a long time, the church enjoyed its lofty perch at the expense of people who lived both literally and figuratively in the dark, who had few choices besides being told what to think and believe. The church flourished because it was the only game in town– for centuries. It offered a sense of community, promised salvation, threatened damnation, all against the backdrop of a certain ignorance, gullibility, and desperation.

I hate to think that maybe the jig is up, yet I can’t help but be concerned for an institution that continues to express hope in a 20-century-old event of mythic proportions that’s fading into the mist and increasingly feels more like wishful thinking than anything real.

The Ohio special election didn’t go the way the GOP was hoping it would. Maybe the only way that could have happened would be if they had just sprung it on the public a day or two in advance, which would have looked even worse and more suspicious than what they actually got away with.

Apparently, abortion is so distasteful to Republicans in the state that they were trying to change the threshold for passage of any future ballot measures, hoping to assure that abortion rights would never again mount a comeback. And by holding this vote in August, they were banking on a lackluster response at the polls.

It didn’t work.

So yet another red state voices its disapproval of the Supreme Court decision and the Republican crusade to take abortion rights away from women. The GOP, the Grand OLD Party, is getting what it deserves with regard to this issue. It’s a hot potato they’re finding they can’t hold onto.

I‘m glad it’s working out this way for them. They need to reevaluate and reconsider their Christian Nationalist aspirations, and find a way to drag themselves into the 21^st century.

The forecast was for severe thunderstorms late in the day, and they arrived late afternoon, around supper time. Amazing sound—a sustained rumble, like one might hear in a bowling alley, only deeper. Fairly heavy rain but not much wind, which would seem to indicate we weren’t in the path of the most intense energy, which is ok– who needs property damage?

Anyway, we got some moisture. Looking forward to checking the rain gauge.

It’s the little things.

With regard to verdicts and sentencing, prosecutors, judges and jurors should not be worried that they may set precedents in the Trump proceedings. This should be a ways down the list of their concerns.

Trump is not the “average” defendant, and not just because he was once a sitting POTUS. He has thumbed his nose at the justice system his entire life. His recklessness and sense of impunity are not so much legendary as they are indicators of his arrogance and immaturity, his disregard for boundaries and standards of behavior befitting an adult in American society.

His blatant ignorance and selfishness almost make him a caricature, maybe have some asking if he’s for real, or if he just enjoys playing some sort of game. The trouble with that is he’s played it on the grandest of stages and at great cost to all of us– even to those who, for whatever reason, still indulge him at his detestable, ego-feeding rallies.

His behavior has been and continues to be stunningly shameful, even unforgiveable, and there’s no reason to think that would ever change. He is the poster child for incompetence, and ambition run amok. For him to suffer no consequences—and for him to even entertain the notion of running for another term as President?!—stretches credulity to its breaking point.

There are many things that trigger fatigue nowadays. And not necessarily a physical tiredness, but more an assault on our mental acuity and well-being. You know– the usual suspects– stress, guilt, anger.

Take, for instance, the current news that gas prices are rising again, approaching their highest levels since the last time they were manipulated by the Saudis and Russia.

Every time this happens, we bang our heads against the wall for a couple minutes, maybe take some blood pressure medication, complain a bit, then get on with our day. It’s a familiar cycle. We’ll be briefly placated by the explanation that the changeover to a summer blend or a winter blend will cause supply issues and attendant fluctuations in price. But as much as this may be the case, it doesn’t really help quiet the nagging thought that we continue to feed the beast that is the fossil fuel industry.

I’d like nothing more than to drive less and feel good about that. And if I was driving, all the better if it was a hybrid or electric vehicle. The brick wall, though, is the cost of going this route. These types of vehicles aren’t inexpensive, and the ones that are somewhat reasonable are too small to consider as an option.

Anyway, it’s one of those days when anger stirs at the thought of being part of the problem, being a contributor to the CO2 glut, and, perhaps most infuriating of all, being sucked into falling in line and playing the part of just another dutiful consumer doing his best lemming imitation for his highnesses in Riyadh and Moscow, or wherever they hide out.

Try to imagine another four years of Donald Trump and what that would mean for the country.

We have to keep our heads, focus on a voice of reason and calm. The only recourse we have will be the ballot box, if that can be protected. Nothing, apparently, is going to stop the son of a bitch from campaigning and becoming the nominee, so the only thing left to us will be not voting for him. And in the meantime, the majority of us will also have to figure out how to not give up on our system of checks and balances.

With everything else on our plates, we have to endure this ongoing madness, a sinister quest by a guy whose primary motivators are anger and vengeance. He’s pretty much dead inside. His presence in the White House would have nothing to do with wise, rational governance.

The noise, the unrelenting distractions, the whole-cloth fabrication of a defense of this runaway loser are simply beyond the pale. Lawyers will work for anybody for the promise of a paycheck and a chance to do some creative writing. In this case, they have time to weave a magnificent yarn.

I hope Jack Smith and the rest are adequately prepared for the coming shit storms.