Siren Songs

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So now I read that Europe and Japan are considering ways to dissolve the constipation in the Strait of Hormuz.

No, dammit! Don’t cave to the moron-in-chief. I understand that the choke point is causing pain at the pump and the cost of diesel is going through the roof, so do it for those reasons, if you feel obliged to do something, but don’t appease Donald Trump.

Tie yourself to the mast! Do whatever it takes to avoid falling under whatever spell he’s able to conjure. He just says stuff and expects people to listen, to fall in line. You’re under no obligation to follow through on his cockamamy demands. Don’t save his ass! He is bereft of honorable intent.

Good luck threading this needle while not contributing to the conditions that lead to WWIII, and remember: fossil fuel alternatives are too woke. “Drill, baby, drill!” is where it’s at…

Yikes.

Rubber-stamped advocacy

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Markwayne and Rand had a bit of a testy tete-a-tete to lead off Mullin’s confirmation hearing yesterday. A real tone setter.

Another delightful Trump appointee sits before the committee, being grilled by Democrats (and Paul), but soothed and defended by Republicans with the now-familiar defense of just another folksy guy with a homespun style. Qualifications are an issue with just about any Trump appointee, but none of that matters for Republicans on the committee, since it’s a Trump appointee and the mission is to just push him through.

The Dems are always the worrywarts, uncomprehending of folksy charm and apparently hidden qualifications that the Republicans somehow always see. It’s smarmy, and sickening to watch. These hearings end up being mere formalities, regardless of qualifications, or lack thereof.

Wow– how bad an option was Matt Gaetz? Was he intentionally thrown under the bus as a trial balloon, a sacrificial lamb, as a way of making anyone who came after him look like a saint?

Pinnacle

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Daily writing prompt
What was the best compliment you’ve received?
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I often felt as if I was on the outside looking in, when it came to grasping certain tenets of systematic theology. Truthfully, my eyes often glazed over the way they did in high school trigonometry class.

It must have been a seminary requirement, since I wouldn’t have chosen such a class as an elective, and one with a term-ending final paper. Ten pages, single-spaced, annotated, in which I was to summarize and share my own systematic distillation of the Christ event.

I was hoping just to get a passing grade on this project, but ended up getting a 39 out of 40– which I now realize might have been an arbitrary, tongue-in-cheek way for the instructor to let me know he liked what he read.

The last page contained this grade and a paragraph of commentary from the instructor that included what, in my view, were surprisingly kind and complimentary words. It’s one of the few items I’ve kept from those years at Gettysburg, because it represented an accomplishment, in my mind, and recognition from one of the intellects in this particular field of study.

I was and still am proud of it, even as I’ve grown to question the whole enterprise and would most likely write a very different paper if I had to do it over again, and didn’t care about graduating.

A Slight Miscalculation

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Where does he get off, angling for help from allies to keep the Strait of Hormuz open?

First of all, what allies might he be talking about? I didn’t realize we had any allies left who were on speaking terms. He’s been doing such a great job of alienating everyone, I figured by now we’d pretty much be on our own. Well, except for Israel. They’re like two peas in a pod—Trump and Netanyahu.

It’s really rich—Trump just demanding that NATO pony up, take on trying to extricate his sorry ass from a debacle of his and Bibi’s making.

Hold your ground, western Europe and others. There’s no need to indulge this farcical brain trust.

The Scenic Route

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Daily writing prompt
You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?
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Most likely car. It gives us flexibility, since we wouldn’t be in a terrible hurry. Of course, getting there by plane in a few hours, compared with a few days, has a certain appeal. Not only would we be traversing all manner of hill and dale and urban areas, needing places to stay, spending money on food and fuel and tolls to get out there, we’d have to do the same on the way back– unless we took a different route and really turned it into a lengthy sojourn.

We’ve occasionally talked about how nice it would be to take the train across Canada, maybe make our way to Alaska, but that’s a pipedream. A transcontinental excursion by car might probably maybe be more likely.

The world, their oyster

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Daily writing prompt
Who is the most confident person you know?
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Confidence, I think, is often present in someone who’s curious and a bit fearless. I’m not sure I know or have known anyone who is always sure everything they do or try is going to come together the way they want it to. It’s more that they’re not afraid to try things, and not afraid of failure. When they set their mind to something, or when their curiosity is piqued, they go into action. They abide by a “Why not?” mantra, and little is off-limits to them.

So… three people come to mind– a sister-in-law’s husband, and an uncle of mine on my mother’s side, along with his wife– my aunt, rest her soul.

Chronic Angst

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Daily writing prompt
What strategies do you use to cope with negative feelings?
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Sometimes I mope, even at my age, which is admittedly sad. Most times I’m able to recognize that the negative feelings have a shelf life, that they’re sometimes self-inflicted, and that I’m often my own worst enemy. I’ve never enjoyed a very high opinion of myself, though I can muster enough self-confidence to get me through a day.

What I have ongoing trouble with, and what often looms like a dark cloud and puts me in a sour mood, is my sense of where we’re heading as a species, given the current leadership at the top here in the U.S., and other places around the globe. There have been too many days of throwing up hands, looking skyward, and muttering under my breath– even when a certain narcissistic, egomaniacal man child was out of office.

Let’s just say that I often don’t like the odds of being able to recover from the damage being inflicted, which is why so many of my blog posts may sound like the ranting of an angry, glass-half-empty sad sack.

A certain “leader of the free world,” whose last name rhymes with “rump,” has long worn out his welcome, so I’m grateful for this outlet where I can get things off my chest and try to deal with a steady diet of lunacy that was foisted on us over a decade ago and continues unabated.